#Like I can't put it up anymore cause it's too short to stay in a ponytail

[luvyeni]

THEY GO TOO FAR 𖹭 엔하이픈 ( reaction ) !

genre yandere 𖹭 warning dark fic, mentions of hitting , blood , starvation , psychological torture — parings OT7! enhypen x fem reader | back to library .

request: what about yandere!enha when they've gone too far ? like punished you/messed with you enough to the point the person is non-verbal/fainted/really mad at them etc.

— what happens enhypen goes too far with a punishment?

「 authors note 𖹭 」

﹙ 𐙚 : heeseung﹚ .ᐟ

he doesn't think he went too far , in fact he got you exactly where he wanted — all to himself , that's why he did this , this why he isolated you from your friends, your family; anyone who loved you — cause only he could love you, you were his. all you did now was follow him around the house , not wanting to leave his side, you even sat on the toilet while he showered. he couldn't even leave the house without you screaming for him to stay , and that made him smile wickedly , he went too far and he loved it. "pl-please don't leave me." you sobbed , grabbing his arms , he wasn't even going anywhere, he just wanted to see what you were gonna do , smiling , he closed the door , pulling your shaking body into his arms as you begged him not to leave.

"see how easily i can leave , remember that."

﹙ 𐙚 : jay﹚ .ᐟ

when you did something he didn't like, he withheld everything from you; shower , food water for as long as he saw fit , he even ordered the maids and everyone else to ignore you. this went on as long as he saw fit , mostly a week , but he wanted to try and prolong it to prove a point to you. — until one day he heard a thud and scream of a maid , you had fainted. "shit." he pulled the tie of his suit. "don't just stand there pick her up take her to the room , call the doctor." he sighed. "how long did she go without eating?" He asked ,everyone was silent. "how long!" he shouted. "about a week and a half." he cursed , he went too far.

"stupid girl i told you to listen to me , call the fucking doctor."

﹙ 𐙚 : jake﹚ .ᐟ

jake knew he'd gone too far, you didn't care anymore. you didn't cry when he cut himself anymore , you didn't stay up for days making sure he didn't hurt himself , you were desensitized to his actions and he didn't know what to do , you were gonna leave him for sure now , he no longer had control. "I'll really kill myself this time , I promise." you stood there watching him bleed from his arms , every emotion flowing through your brain — you snapped , picking up the knife. "fine." he watched you put the blade to your arm , slicing it. "y-yn." you screamed as he began to cry. "shut up , shut up." you shouted at him. "you wanna die? you can't live without me? let's die then." you said , he was watching you go crazy.

he didn't know what to do , he'd gone way too far.

﹙ 𐙚 : sunghoon﹚ .ᐟ

sunghoon was short tempered at times , and you both knew it was only a matter of time before he went too far with his punishments , and he did. "su-sunghoon please." you could see he face turning red. "i'm sorry." he didn't hear you , all he saw was you hitting him and running towards the door , it was locked and he had the key , but he was pissed. "sunghoon please im sorry." all he wanted to do was push you to the floor , but he pushed too hard , you fell to the ground not before hitting your head on the table , knocking you out cold. "shit." he ran his fingers through his hair , checking your pulse— you were still breathing. he picked your body up off the floor taking you back to his room.

he actually felt bad this time

﹙ 𐙚 : sunoo﹚ .ᐟ

it happened too fast , you were leaving out the door, you were gonna leave him all alone , you were falling for his manipulation tactics anymore , you didn't pack anything ready to leave , he blacked out , like everything was in flashes; one minute your hand was on the door knob , another flash and the lamp was in his hand and he was behind you , then another flash and you were on the floor , he'd hit you. "oh no." he dropped the lamp , tears welling in his eyes , you were breathing but you were out cold . "im so sorry." he sobbed , holding you in his arms. "yo-you were gonna leave me , i couldn't let you go." he cried. "I'm so sorry." he moved you to the bed.

"i-im sorry i went too far."

﹙ 𐙚 : jungwon﹚ .ᐟ

so maybe he left you in the isolated room too long; normally it was only a week, he knew you could take it— so then what about 2 weeks? 2 and a half weeks? 3 weeks? no you couldn't take it , and jungwon soon found that once he stopped hearing you scream , when he went to give you food , you barely ate it , then you stopped eating all together. he started to fear you were dead , he didn't want that , so he opened the door , where you were balled up in a corner , hair messy , you whimpered from the light shining into the room. "hey come on." he said, you didn't move , he tried to come near you , but you tried to bury yourself into your knees , muttering im sorry over and over again , until he picked you up from the floor taking you to his room.

when you crawled into a ball silently sobbing to yourself , he realized he went too far.

﹙ 𐙚 : ni-ki﹚ .ᐟ

ni-ki doesn't think he went too far , he didn't even twist your arm that hard , why are you crying like a baby? "it's not broken , get up." you don't get up , so he grabs you by that arm which makes you scream in pain , he drops you on the couch. "shit." he realizes it might actually be broken. "i told you not to leave again and you did , this is your fault." he said , how the hell was he gonna explain this to a doctor? he won't , cause he's not taking you to the doctor, well not at first. "go take a pain killer and stop screaming before someone hears you." he only takes you to a doctor because he's sick and tired of hearing you scream.

"fine i'll take you , just shut up."

[max0chist]

filling up my energetic puppy with water "don't want to you to dehydrate, puppy." While I tip another glass into your mouth, maybe I'll mention a hike. energetic puppies love hikes. you immediately agree, the ache in your bladder being put on the back burner. I make sure to pack a lot of water bottles. "we're going to be sweating a lot puppy, need to stay hydrated" by the time we arrive, the ache in your bladder is unable to be ignored, but you assure yourself you can hold it. that is until our first water break, only 10 minutes in. "Drink up, got to keep you hydrated. me? oh, I'm fine, I drank earlier." You manage to drink the whole bottle, and by now, your pants are feeling way too tight. we continue on our hike. you start having to waddle and take more breaks, which I use to pump you full of more water until you can't get up anymore. "What's wrong puppy, you're never this tired on our hikes?" I feign innocence looking at you squirming, wiggling on the rock trying to hold your legs together to keep from wetting yourself. "Aw, does puppy need to go, then go, puppy. no one is around." "Go on." I take your hand, pulling you up from your rock, causing you to leak into your shorts "aw you really have to go puppy, come here" I lead you to a tree, pulling your shorts down, leaving you completely exposed. pushing your bladder, trying to encourage you to go on the tree. "Good puppies, go in the woods, come on, all puppies mark trees." I hold your little tdick in my hands, they massage the sensitive skin, encouraging you to go, to mark the tree like a good puppy "go on puppy, no one is around, just you and me" I walk you closer, your cunt practically rubbing on the bark. seeing you're still reluctant, I press my fingers into your warmth, fingering your puppycunt as I press down on your bladder. you let out a squeal and try to close your legs, the hot liquid bursting from you, instantly soaking your thighs. "Good boy, yeah, just like that, just like that, let it all out, puppy." I hold your tdick in an upright position. your piss soaks the bark; I smile, watching you mark the tree. I pull up your soaked boxers and shorts. "Now, let's get going again :)"

[ihatethecrowdsyouknowthat]

what a bland goodbye - spencer reid x fem!reader

reader goes to spencer's apartment for a needed breakup. no matter how much they love each other.

genre: angst wc: 935 warnings: breakup, reader wears heels, crying (duh), no happy ending, right person wrong time???, mentioned emotionally unavailable spencer

based off loml by ts!!! (im sorry), also this is much shorter than i intended!!!

The hallway is colder and your heels are louder than you remember. Snowflakes cover your head, your nose freezing from the cool, winter air. The familiar building somehow pains your heart with how much you'll miss it. You're not sure how long it'll take for the route here to be wiped from your body's autopilot. Even the door marked "23" is comforting. Something you'll have to get over soon.

His unsuspecting and far too joyful form when he opens the door makes you immediately want to rethink your intentions. Spencer's arms wrap around you as inviting as they've always been, the smell of coffee and laundry detergent unwelcome for the first time.

"You said you wanted to talk, what's going on?" he murmurs almost mindlessly into your shoulder.

Already, your eyes burn. You pull back and look up at him with an apologetic smile that hurts.

Chapped lips part as his eyebrows furrow. It's like he can feel how torn you are. But he doesn't get it. "Morgan says that when a girl says 'we need to talk,' it means that you're in trouble. I told him that's ridiculous but then I started to overthink and thought that maybe I did do something so I went through the last couple weeks but... I don't know what I did."

He nervously laughs, "he's ridiculous, right?"

Well, not exactly. It wasn't an easy decision to come to. It took a lot of convincing from your smarter side. You just couldn't put up with it anymore. The long hours were bad enough, but he'd never open up, despite eyebags showing just how much he needed to. Long hours were spent wondering if he'd be coming home unharmed or with an extra scar that's yet to be healed. As much as you want to, you can't stay. He's tortured. He needs someone with more to offer. More to give. You're not what he needs.

Glossy eyes find his hopeful ones and you feel despicable. "Spence..."

"What?" he whispers shakily.

It's now or never, you figure, inhaling an unsteady breath. No going back. Like a bandaid, right? If bandaids caused more tears, maybe.

"I want to break up." You attempt to sound firm, decisive, valiant but your voice wobbles and you sound nothing short of pathetic.

Beautiful, delicate features you've spent so long memorizing distort into a mixture of pain and confusion. The same features you've kissed and ran your fingers over every chance you got. You mourn those moments silently as he tries to understand. You know he won't. In only seconds, his eyes match yours in terms of despair, like he's already picturing the moment you walk out and leave him behind like a bad memory.

"Why? Is it... something I did?" he asks, voice so soft and breakable it makes everything ache.

"No. It's-it's me. I just can't... I can't." Tears gather on your lashes before spilling over onto cold cheeks.

"Can't?"

The way he's trying so hard to get it is what makes the moment last forever. What could you possibly say to explain yourself? It all feels so insignificant right now.

In his suit and tie, so pretty, he exhales sharply in frustration, a shot to your softened soul. He waits for your answer but you're not sure you have one to smooth the crease between his eyebrows.

You sigh and mutter, "I can't be in this. We don't work, Spencer. You don't talk to me, I-" you sniffle, sobbing hard, "I can't do a relationship where you're never here and, even when you are, you're- I don't know..."

He shakes his head and breathes out as his lip trembles. "You're the love of my life," he whispers, saline rolling down.

"I know." A particularly loud sob leaves you and you nod. "I just can't."

"Can't or won't?" he asks bitterly.

You shake your head, "don't do that."

Somber eyes you love look down at you, begging you wordlessly. In a simple glance, small moments that shaped how you saw and felt about him, it was truly legendary. But you couldn't deal with just those flickers of forever. They were momentary. They're not enough.

He pleads, "we can work it out. We can-"

"Stop. Please."

"So that's it? You're just leaving? I can't say anything?" he breathes desperately, crying in a way you've never seen.

You hate how your mind shows you only the things you wish you could unrecall. All the soft pants, gentle kisses, coffee dates, library trips, interlocked fingers and goodnight texts. Every memory that's only making this harder. "I'm sorry." Small sobs shake your body as each breath seems more difficult.

Spencer shakes his head, pretty curls falling in front of his face. "That's it?" he says in fear.

Sadly, you nod, wishing things could be different. Maybe they could be. One day.

"Goodbye," you whisper through a low sob.

He looks at you with a love that you know will never quite be buried. Not for years, at least. Part of you wants that love to come back to you. When he can be what you need and you can be what he needs.

He mutters, "bye," and you leave, for the first time with a heavy heart. You've never loved someone as much as you've loved Spencer. The breakup was needed but how long will the ache last? How long will you hide away in your room? How long will you dream of a reunion?

How long will it take for the thought of Spencer Reid to not leave you feeling homesick over something you're never sure you had?

tags: @1mnshw @sweetestthingonthissideofhell @punkndisorderrly

[fictoweirdoesten]

tw: self harm, use of the nickname 'pipsqueak' and 'baby'. Read at your discretion.

author's note: ...im tired, and I'm too tired to proofread this. If I wasn't a coward I'd make this nsfw, but I'd rather not embarrass myself anymore today. Be prepared for the cringe, and thank you for reading.

---

It was a long day today. You're lying on your bed listening to heavy music...but it's not working, none of it's working. You still feel this numbness in your chest, this pain that won't go away.

Why doesn't anyone like you? Why can't you get along with anyone?

Are you a freak? A monster? Do you have a sign on your back that reads, "Stay Away"?

The numbness in your chest grows stronger. Your tears start to fade, replaced by a sudden, impulsive urge to do something, to get rid of this irritating feeling...

You slowly make your way to the bathroom, dragging your feet against the wooden floors. Your eyes narrow at the bag of razors when you walk in, your hand instinctively reaching out to grab one.

You need to feel something, anything. This is the only way you know how.

You sit on the toilet lid and slowly move the razor to your arm.

It hurts, it burns.

Your arms shake, and your breathing starts to grow heavier.

The numbness goes away, replaced by a sudden anxiety attack that borders on full panic.

Why do you do this to yourself? Is it really any better than feeling nothing at all-

"Pipsqueak?"

Caleb...

Caleb

What's he doing here? He was supposed to be visiting you and Gran next week, not today.

"Pipsqueak? I know you're here, I can see your shoes at the door!"

Oh god, what were you going to do? How were you going to hide these scars?

You cut too much, and you cut in rows like an idiot. Blaming it on a cat wouldn't work this time.

You panic, hearing his footsteps slowly make their way up the stairs.

You run out of the bathroom and into your room. Yeah, totally not obvious at all, but you rushed as you quickly put on a long sleeve shirt, just hoping he didn't notice that you were wearing a short sleeve as you zoomed in front of him.

He knocked on your door gently, his voice hesitant and quiet:

"...Hey...are you alright in there, pipsqueak?"

"Y-Yeah, I'm alright...come in!"

So he did, slowly opening the door until his violet eyes met your face, immediately studying your expression as he closed the door behind him.

Then he looked down at your arms, and you freeze up. Did he figure it out already, surely not-

"Do you know how hot it is? What are you doing wearing a long sleeve?"

...You're finished.

"I...I just wanted to wear one today. I felt...a little insecure about myself..."

Caleb shook his head, letting out a sigh as he moved to sit next to you on the bed.

"Insecure? Pipsqueak, how many times do I have to tell you that you're-"

As he speaks, he gently moves his hand on top of your arm, causing you to jolt and yank your arm away from him.

That makes him pause.

You silently curse yourself for reacting that way, hoping he won't question you about it-

"...Show me your arm."

That's it. You're dead.

This wasn't the first time he caught you. He remembers when you were in 6th grade, suddenly very impulsive and sensitive, you self harmed for the first time. You acted the same way back then, jumpy and nervous, and the long sleeve you're wearing right now made it even more obvious.

When you sat frozen in place after awhile, he decided to reach his hand out and move you closer to him instead. He slowly revealed your scars, his breath hitching at the sight.

He let out a ragged sigh, his hand slowly making their way to your scars, his fingers gently rubbing over them as his violet eyes looked up at you in desperation, sympathy, but never pity.

"...You should clean them...come on," he muttered before grabbing you, his grip on your arm tightening a bit as the two of you made your way to the bathroom.

You grimaced at the burning as he poured peroxide on your wounds, before gently patting you with a cotton ball. He was right behind you, leaving no space between the two of you.

His eyes looked over your arm again, noticing the other, tinier faded scars. His frown deepened, wondering just how hurt you were over these past months when he couldn't see you. How much you needed him when he couldn't be there for you.

He'd text and call you every day, always asking the same simple question: "Are you okay?" You'd always reply with a 'yes' but never elaborated, never talked about what you did at school, anything interesting that happened, any drama even. Instead, whenever he even dared to ask you about anything else going on in your life, you suddenly got irritated at him, saying that he was being 'too nosy' and shut him down.

He should've known...

"Pipsqueak, you risk getting an infection if you don't take care of these, yknow," he whispered, leaning down closer to your ear. "Come here."

His voice was low and gentle as he took your hand into his and led you back into the room. Everything about him is gentle right now. How he sat on the bed. How his eyes looked up at you with a slight smile on his face as he pulled you down to his lap. How his arms wrapped around you. How he leaned down and rested his head on your shoulder, letting out a hum as his hand started rubbing over your scars again.

He was treating you very delicately, as if you would break in front of him at any moment and shatter into little glass shards on the floor.

"We only have bandaids, and that won't do. I'll get you some gauze wraps when you go to sleep tonight, okay?"

You nod, leaning your head against him as you feel yourself slowly dozing off in his embrace.

"Don't fall asleep yet. Tell me what's been bothering you lately," he whispered once more. You looked over and saw his eyes on you. They were pleading, begging you to open up to him. "...please?"

So you told him everything. How lonely you felt at school, how you can't get along with anyone, how terrible it is sitting alone at lunch watching everyone else hang out with their friends...

How much you miss him

He couldn't help himself, especially when he saw those tears roll down your cheeks. He leaned in and gave you a kiss on the forehead, his free hand moving down to your waist as he rubs your sides in a soothing pattern.

"Baby, why didn't you tell me any of this? Why keep this all to yourself? Do you not trust me?"

Baby. A petname you only hear him call you during moments like these, when either of you are at your most vulnerable. You can't help but admit how good it makes you feel when he calls you that, of course, you'd never tell him that.

Before you can respond, he interrupts you. You feel his hand on your waist pause, his lips moving to your cheek as he plants another kiss there.

"I love you, you know that? You're beautiful and so-so smart. I love you so much pipsqueak."

"Caleb-"

"Who cares what everyone else thinks, hm? Aren't I enough for you?"

"I-"

"I'm sorry you've been feeling lonely lately, baby, it's all my fault. I'm so sorry."

You're about to rotate around his lap and shut him up with your hand, but as you turn around to face him, you see it:

He's absolutely infatuated with you. His pupils are dilated to the point where you can barely see the color in his eyes. He's panting as if he just ran a marathon, and his face is flushed. He moves his hand from your waist to the back of your head, pulling you closer until your noses are barely touching.

You pause, struggling to breathe with how close the two of you are.

"Caleb..."

"Pip...squeak..."

He moves closer, his eyes narrowing down at your lips.

He's about to kiss you. Is he really going to-

You watch as he bites his lips and lets out a groan, appearing to be frustrated before he quickly pulls your arm to his mouth, kissing the scars on your arm feverly instead, letting out all of his supressed desires on your arm instead of your lips.

You hold back a frustrated groan yourself, wanting to crush this stupid boundary he has with you, but you can't deny how much you love the scene in front of you as well, how he looks at your scars with love rather then disgust.

He pauses, his eyes flickering up at you, seeing how flushed your face is before letting out a chuckle against your skin, causing a chill to run through you. He then slowly moves you away from his embrace, his hand lingering on your hips for a moment longer than necessary before getting up and stretching.

"Hungry? Let's go out to eat tonight, pipsqueak!" He turns around to look at you with a smile, evidence of his earlier frustration gone as he quickly pulled himself together.

You, on the other hand, are still very much flustered. He extends a hand out to you, and you grab it. He effortlessly pulls up up and moves to stand beside you, resting his hand on your waist once more as he looks down at you with nothing but love in his eyes.

"Ready?"

[callsign-rogueone]

i know you've been busy so no sweat.

but i'd love a fix with one of the older boys where reader has just been getting their ass beat. In challenges, at battle brief. they just can't seem to get out of the slump. comfort fic? can also be angsty/smutty whatever but I just want some love y'feel?

🏷️: a day (several months) late, and a dollar short (under 1k) but here you go! I went with Gare for this one. fem reader who has a period, and hair that could be put in a clip (not specified what kind). garrick is a tease even (especially) with his girl. one semi major spoiler for fourth wing, but none for IF or OS.

Garrick isn’t surprised at all when you climb right into his lap and hide your face in his neck, letting out a soft whine that he knows means “I don’t feel good, pay attention to me.” It’s about to be that time of the month for you, and judging by your choice of attire — plain, dark colored underwear and one of his giant shirts — you’re feeling crappy, and you’re ready to go to bed early tonight.

He rests a hand on your back, the other moving to squeeze your hip. “Hi there. That time again?”

You give him a soft hum in reply, settling down against the plush muscle.

“I’m sorry, angel. Nature’s a bitch.”

“S’ not fair,” you mumble. “Jus’ cause I didn’t feel like having a baby this month, I gotta bleed n’ cry for five days.”

You can hear the slick grin in his voice as he replies. “Well, if you ever do feel like it, you know who to ask.”

You raise your head to glare at him, feeling a laugh rumble through his chest. “Not the time.”

“Okay, okay. What can I do to make you feel better, hm?”

“Just wanna stay like this,” you say softly.

“Alright.” His hands slide up your back, roughened palms stroking up and down, up and down. “How was your week? I didn’t see you much.”

“Awful,” you mumble. “I overslept on Tuesday and was late to Battle Brief, and got so much shit for it from my squad leader.”

“Dennis? What a fucking tool.”

“Messed up my ankle in challenges on Thursday, and I’m drowning in work for Kaori’s, because I missed two lectures last week.”

“At least you’re not sick anymore,” he offers. “I don’t have to worry about you sneezing on me again.”

Your cheeks warm in embarrassment. “That was a one time thing! And we agreed to never speak of it again.”

“I didn’t agree to shit,” he defends, “but please continue — I feel like you were building up to something there.”

“I was,” you mumble, quieting. “I lost my favorite hair clip.”

“Which one? The one that’s shaped like a flower?”

“Yeah,” you say softly. “I know you were the one who gave it to me — I shouldn’t have been so careless with it. I’m sorry.”

He takes one hand off your back, reaching for something. You hear the soft slide of a drawer opening and closing, turning your head to see it in his hand. “You left it here on Sunday, when you slept over. I held onto it in case you wanted to use it when you’re here — I know you don’t like having your hair in your face when you’re studying.”

You squeeze him a little tighter, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I love you,” you announce, settling back against his chest contentedly.

“I know.”

You whine, pouting up at him.

“If you gave me a second, I was gonna say that I love you too, and I was going to suggest that we go to bed early.”

“You don’t have watch tonight?”

He hums. “Xaden does, which means he’s gonna be in a mood tomorrow morning.”

“He’s been… different lately,” you say quietly, chewing your lip. “I’m worried about him.”

“I think he’s got a crush on the little Sorrengail in Callwell’s squad.”

“She’s really pretty,” you admit, “but what about Cat?”

“We both know he never loved Cat. And this… this is different. I can’t explain it, but it is.”

“He deserves someone to be happy with. But can he really get past who her mother is, and what she did to him? To all of us?”

“We got past it for Brennan.”

“I guess so.”

He pats your hip. “Alright. Let me go shower, and then you’ve got me for the next twelve hours.”

You cast a glance at the clock on his desk, doing the math. “You aren’t going to the gym tomorrow morning?”

“Nah. I’d rather stay in and take care of my girl.”

[astonmartinii]

i don't wanna be funny anymore | daniel ricciardo social media au

pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem podcaster!reader

i don't wanna be funny anymore, i got a too short skirt, maybe i can be the cute one. is there room in the band? i don't need to be the front man, if not then i'll be the biggest fan

based on i don't wanna be funny anymore by lucy dacus (this song speaks to me, i love lucy (she's also AMAZING live))

MASTERLIST | TIPS

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 341,203 others

yourusername: hey girl hey, new ep coming at you fast this friday all about rotting. as the twilight weather rolls in and it becomes the season of all too well, we'll talk about rotting, how we can do it right and how not to lose your mind this october (a cautionary tale, i've already lost mine)

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user1: my queen hands down five stars already

user2: the bag is so real and the way i know it's a tote that does NOT stay on your shoulder

yourusername: it's the enchante tote, shameless plug for my man

danielricciardo: you singlehandedly sell out my totes every time baby

user3: not this actual fan erasure 🤨

user4: babe be real, she has a massive platform and there was a direct correlation between the first time she plugged a tote and the fact that they sold out that day you guys just love being mean

user5: i'm mean cause i don't want some leech taking credit for dan's hardwork and his fans?

user6: he fucking said it? you guys grasp at straws every time so try and justify your agenda against her

maxverstappen1: idk what rotting is but i'll still listen to every second

yourusername: thanks maxy, though i'd say going on the sim for up to 14 hours of the day is bordering on rotting

maxverstappen1: productive rotting !

yourusername: yes, i guess your sweet little treats are trophies?

maxverstappen1: that would make sense (don't tell my trainer but i do enjoy the little fruity drinks from starbucks)

user7: yall wanna say we're mean but she's literally invalidating max, saying he's rotting on the sim is so invalidating to everything he went through when he was younger

user8: how did we get there? this grasp on straws has to be studied... from a joke about the sim to invalidating abuse?

user9: i honestly thank the lord for dan and max because they're so supportive no matter the shitstorm that yall throw at y/n everyday

user10: literally max is even listening to podcasts... real friends, i hope one day she feels confident enough to come to races

danielricciardo

liked by maxverstappen, georgerussell63 and 1,034,239 others

tagged: yourusername, enchante

danielricciardo: buckle up, enchante is going to the rodeo 🐎

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user13: i shall be breaking the bank

user14: dan so smart, he looks like a good boyf for including y/n but didn't include her face

user15: yall ever listen to yourself talk, you need to be put in time out for real

yourusername: we all know the phrase, save a horse, ride a...

danielricciardo: daniel?

yourusername: YUP

user16: ugh there are children who are fans of daniel, she's so gross

user17: do you ever get tired of doing all of that mental gymnastics?

yourusername: can't wait for the tote drop for this collection, yall WON'T be disappointed

user18: yes, i will always trust mother's tote recommendations

user19: anyone who carries that much shit knows what makes a good tote

yourusername: this one has survived two dostoevsky book, an unreasonably large water bottle, a laptop and microphone

user19: thank you ma'am

maxverstappen1: real love is dressing as a cowgirl for your needy boyfriend

yourusername: the things we do for love (i actually had so much fun)

user20: here y/n goes doing all the publicity, but never going to races, clearest gold digger attention whore wag of all time

user21: surely a real attention whore would go to every race to get the screen time and papped and all that jazz?

excerpt of y/n y/ln's podcast where she addresses her absences in the paddock.

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 412,349 others

yourusername: life recently lol, the enchante tote is taking a beating

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user24: she's such a crybaby making dan use up an entire portion of his interview to coddle her

user25: she doesn't come to races cause of people like you invading her privacy and being rude and here you are ... proving her point

danielricciardo: pretty lady i can't wait to be back in your arms

yourusername: waiting outside the airport now

danielricciardo: we haven't even taken off yet babe

yourusername: i know i just miss you and can't wait to see your handsome face

user26: dan must be saying this shit at gun point cause there's no way he actually thinks she's pretty

user27: are you clinically blind? cause we must not be seeing the same girl

maxverstappen1: the aperol rawdogging the bag, you are SO brave

yourusername: living life on the edge, is this that thrill all you drivers talk about?

maxverstappen1: i may drive at over 200 kmh but i'd never risk my tote like that

yourusername: is it worse that i have a jar of olives in there as well, one drop and it's so over for me

maxverstappen1: OLIVES? remind me NOT to hug you when you pick us up

danielricciardo: if you want that hug you gonna have to get in line boy

user28: she picks them up from the airport? that's so cute

user29: someone tell her the gross girl aesthetic isn't cute

user30: babe don't worry no matter the aesthetic you have daniel will never want you x

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc, christianhorner and 982,344 others

tagged: yourusername, danielricciardo

maxverstappen1: finally went on my bff's (no 1 in the world) podcast after i finally convinced her yall ain't shit - oh and dan was there for emotional support x

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user31: SO ICONIC

user32: ep on repeat forever, they're so funny

yourusername: for a man who hates podcasts, you were a star i think the memes hit you hard

maxverstappen1: i enjoy the PROFESSIONALS could you imagine doing a podcast with lando

landonorris: why am i catching strays

danielricciardo: i wouldn't say that too loud, i got about 20 texts as soon as you posted this demanding i ask y/n to be on the show

yourusername: oooooooooo the girls are fighting

landonorris: so can i come on?

yourusername: i'm sure we can schedule something

maxverstappen1: don't say i didn't warn you y/n

user33: ugh now she's going to whore around the rest of the grid

user34: for real wasn't dan enough? she's not even pretty enough to whore herself out

user35: you people have no reading comprehension cause you see how dan says yall are insane and yall keep proving him right

danielricciardo: i'm so proud of you pretty girl

yourusername: i love you cowboy

danielricciardo: forever obsessed with you

user36: i'm living for y/n basically telling all these insecure weirdos to fuck off

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, christianhorner and 603,451 others

tagged: danielricciardo

yourusername: who was gonna tell me these cars are loud as shit irl

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user39: someone tell sky to stop zooming in on her i don't pay to her her ugly ass

user40: cry your heart out bro everyone else is happy

danielricciardo: oops i think you're my lucky charm you now have to come to every race ever sorry not sorry

yourusername: gosh i think that might be true - i'll be there! (but for real you are so so talented and don't need a lucky charm)

danielricciardo: i'm just so happy to share this with you, i love you so much, i'm sorry people have been so cruel

yourusername: people are passionate about you and rightly so, but i appreciate you protecting me baby

user41: imagine being this irrelevant and demanding protection in the paddock ... the audacity

user42: you finally came to the paddock and this is what you wore?

user43: she's wearing danny merch? if she didn't yall would have a problem with that as well so please just be quiet

maxverstappen1: i need you to come every weekend cause you're the only one drunk danny will listen to

yourusername: we had practice with all the wine tasting we did for his wine line

danielricciardo: i am NOT that bad

maxverstappen1: tbf it's usually him just crying about how much he loves you

yourusername: AWWWWWW (i also cry about how much i love you)

user44: gosh this is my favourite f1 couple

user45: hopefully now she has her dose of fame she'll fuck off

user46: HAVE A DAY OFF

danielricciardo

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 1,451,677 others

tagged: yourusername

danielricciardo: as we're nearing our two year anniversary i wanted to say a couple things. one. i love you so much. when you came into my life i was in a bad place and you truly taught me to love myself again and how to love my sport again. you're the most amazing woman ever, the kindest soul and the most beautiful girl ever. two. i am so thankful for the support i have, i do not allow the disrespect some have given y/n. you guys have no real perception of relationships between athletes and fans. you do not have the right to comment on y/n in the way you are. you take extremely low blow and have the gall to confront her in public as well. do not call yourself a fan of mine when you treat the people i love like this. my team will now begin to monitor comment sections and will seek to block and report accounts doing this. thank you and i love you y/n.

comments on this post are turned off.

note: hope yall enjoyed!! i love danny and i saw the danny ric honky tonk this morning and had to write about him. i'd also had this idea for a while but didn't know who to write for lol. please listen to the song i love lucy so much and the song is so relatable xx

also anyone who has requested - i am working on them (but as per some questions in my asks, as for right now i do not write for footballers, if i become less disillusioned with the sport (thanks chelsea) this may change)

[whenlilyfallsinlove]

not anymore.

luke castellan x reader - college au, only one bed, enemies to lovers.

im back!! sorry for being afk, ive had lots of exams!

"oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me." you hear luke say as you drag your suitcase into the room.

you rolled your eyes at the sound of his voice, already mad as it was. this was supposed to be a fun weekend: your college has organised a trip for students to go to new york, which you had been excited for.

the trip was off to a great start - you and your friend clarisse had explored the city where you had eaten the best bagel in your entire life.

your happiness, however, was short-lived.

"I'M SHARING WITH WHO?!" your voice echoed through the hotel lobby, causing clarisse to nudge you.

"luke. apparently." clarisse says, almost amused.

"that can't be right. how is this even allowed?" you frown.

"well you're adults, so you're probably trusted-" she starts but you cut her off.

"i can not share a room with him clarisse, i fucking despise him." you groan. you had hated luke since kindergaten and he hated you. that was the way it had always been.

"it's only two nights." she tries to comfort you.

"ONLY TWO NIGHTS, THAT'S TWO NIGHTS TOO MANY." you despised him. he was the bane of your existence.

"you think I want to be sharing a room with someone as stupid as you?" a new voice came from behind you, you turned round to see luke stood, glaring at you. next to him was chris, who waved at clarisse.

"i'm way smarter than you. i have every right to complain." you glare back.

"oh, do you even hear yourself right now? you sound ridiculous." he replies.

"literally shut up, your opinion is irrelevant to me." you say.

"you're so fucking annoying oh my god." luke groans.

"i'm annoying?! you're the one who-"

you continued to bicker, completely forgetting your surroundings. chris and clarisse shared knowing looks with each other, the two of you claimed that you hated each other, sure. but the tension between the two of you was unmatched.

"hey.." clarisse says, dragging your attention from luke "at least there'll be two beds, you can just ignore each other."

this put a smile back on your face.

"thank fuck.." you say and the two of you begin to walk up to your respective rooms.

"what is it-" you were about to come out with some form of insult until you realised what his reaction was for.

there, in front of you, was your hotel room. with only one bed.

"are you taking the piss?" you let out an exasperated sigh.

"i think i'm going to die." luke groans.

"oh shut up, go see if we can change rooms." you remark.

"why can't you?" he responds.

"because i can't be bothered to come up all those stairs again" you respond, rolling your eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"you're so lazy." he replies.

"are you gonna do it then or what?" you put your hands on your hips.

"fuck yes." luke replies, and leaves the room.

when he is gone, you let yourself fall onto the bed and groan. this could only ever happen to you. having to stay in a room with the boy you've hated since the age of 6 was one thing, but sharing a bed with him? even worse. you wish you had never come on this stupid trip. then you'd be at home, no luke, curled up in bed, watching the new season of bridgerton. was it too late to-

your thoughts were interrupted by the return of luke, who looked as if he was going to kill you for even breathing near him.

"well?!" you stand.

"there's no other rooms. this is the only one, we have to wait till tomorrow." he frowns.

"oh for the love of god." you say, putting your head in your hands.

"yeah. that's how i feel right now. stuck in a room with a freak." luke says.

"i hate you." you glare at him.

"the feeling is mutual." he glares back.

"you're such a dick."

"only because you are the most annoying person on earth."

"fuck this, i'm having a shower." you grab your pjamas and make your way too the bathroom.

"be quick. i want one." luke calls out.

"i want, doesn't get." you stick your tongue out at him.

"what are you.. eight?" he glares.

you flip him off and shut the door, locking it, and get in the shower.

the hot water calmed your anger, as you tried to take as long as possible. maybe you should try and drown yourself? i mean it would get you out of this situation. that was what you needed.

you continued to ponder the logistics with this until you realised your skin had gone a bit wrinkly from being in there for too long. you got out, dried yourself, and put your pjamas on. you regret how little you brought. the heat was stifling, so you had only brought some shorts and a small crop top. in your defence, you thought you'd be sharing with clarisse.

you opened the door, and walked out the bathroom, luke was layed on the bed, on his phone.

"fucking finally, are you done in the bathroom yet, you took-" he blinks, stopping once he sees what you are wearing.

"oh shut up. i'm done." you glare.

luke nods awkwardly - what the fuck was up with him? - his gaze lingering on your figure. he clears his throat.

"uh yeah. um good." he finally responds standing up.

"the fuck is up with you?" you give him a funny look.

"nothing weirdo." he snaps out of it, and makes his way to have a shower over his own.

you frown at his reaction - why was he being so weird. you shake your head, and get into bed, laying on the edge, and go on your phone.

after about fifteen minutes, luke responds and gets into the other side of the bed.

you lay in silence for about fifteen minutes, both not knowing what to say.

"you still awake?" luke asks you, turning over to look at you,

"why wouldn't i be?" you retort.

"it was just a question.. why are you always so hostile?!"

"because you annoy the living daylight out of me."

"you can't even look at me when you say that." he smirks.

he was right, your back was still turned. you roll your eyes but turn so you are facing him.

"yes i can. you annoy the living daylight out of me." you say looking into his eyes.

his eyes.. were they always this pretty? what was up with you? it was luke. LUKE.

"i know i do." he smirks, looking into your eyes.

you feel flustered. the two of you go quiet for a minute until luke breaks the silence.

"why do you even hate me anyway?" he asks.

"because you anger me." you respond.

"but why?"

"do you not remember when you pushed me off my bike when we were 6?"

"oh yeah. that was so funny." he smiles at the memory.

"no it wasn't." you retort.

"it was." he looks at you again.

the two of you go silent again. what was happening to you? was luke moving closer or was it just you? no he definitely was. was he leaning in-

"turn the light off. i'm tired." luke suddenly demands, catching you off guars. you immediately move away from him.

"um no? i'm not tired." you respond back. you weren't crazy.. you swear you had just had a moment with him.

"do i care?" he asks, avoiding eye contact with him

"i'm not doing it." you retort, rolling you eyes.

"fine. i'll do it." he gets up and turn the light off, leaving just the lamp on the corner on.

"oh you are so irritating." you glare, looking up at him.

"whatever, just go to sleep, we have to meet early tomorrow." he responds and gets into bed, turning his back away from you.

you mock him whilst his back is turned, and turn away yourself.

how were you supposed to get to sleep? you swear you were about to.. i don't know.. kiss luke. your mortal enemy.. except not really. you knew for sure he was right back to being the same old luke as before.

you frown and lay there for about ten minutes, trying to fall asleep.

"(y/n).. i'm.. sorry." you hear luke mutter, next to you. luke had NEVER apologised to you before. EVER. but you were still mad.

"go to sleep." you repeat what luke said to you. you were petty, what can you say?"

"i can't." he responds, making you roll your eyes.

"you can't?! you literally said you were tired." you say.

"how in the hell do you expect me to sleep when you're right there and i can't stop thinking about you?" he raises his voice, catching you off guard.

what. the. fuck. what did he mean. what.

you turn over, to see luke already staring at you.

"what.." you feel your breath hitching in your throat as you see luke already looking at you.

"you're the bane of my existence. i hate you. you get under my skin. but fuck.. why do you have to be so beautiful?" he says, looking into your eyes.

"luke.." you mutter.

"i can't hold back any longer, (y/n), i can't keep pretending i don't l-"

you interrupt him by crashing your lips onto him, kissing him hungrily. luke happily returns the kiss, wrapping his arm round your waist.

after about ten seconds, you pull away.

"i'm sorry, i shouldn't have-" you aplogise.

"don't be sorry. i liked it." he replies, making you smile.

well one thing was now certain for sure. you definitely didn't hate each other anymore.

[winteringdream]

cherry blossoms

✩ ⋅ pairing. bsf!woonhak x gn!reader

✩ ⋅ genre. fluff, friends to lovers

✩ ⋅ warnings. none!

✩⋅ wc. 794

The first days of spring had arrived, the sun is rising earlier and birds are singing again. The weather is slowly getting warmer, which meant only one thing: cherry blossom watching.

Every year you looked forward to the magical short period in which all the cherry blossom trees colored a beautiful pink color. The small petals falling everywhere on the ground, covering the road you walked on in that same beautiful color.

You shoot up at the sound of a knock on your bedroom door. It's a little after lunchtime, and you had just finished eating lunch.

"Who's there?" You exclaim, not looking up from your phone.

"It's Woonhak." You hear the voice reply from the other side of the door. What was he doing at your house? The door slowly creaks open, his brown hair followed by his face peaks into your room.

"Your mom let me in." He smiles his signature bright smile, "Guess why I'm here."

"You ran out of ice cream?"

"Pshh, I never run out of ice cream." He laughs, "I've decided that you need to get out and do something."

You stay silent, prompting him to continue speaking. He fiddles with his fingers a little awkwardly, standing next to your desk.

"Let's go see the cherry blossoms." He suddenly blurts out after a short silence. "I know you like them and right now it's the perfect time to see them."

His request takes you slightly aback. Did Kim Woonhak, your best friend, just surprise you with a date?

"So, you mean a date?" You joke, putting your phone away, a teasing smile on your face. You watch as he almost drops the pen he had picked up from your desk.

"A WHAT?" He exclaims loudly, "I just wanted to take you to do something nice." He mumbles, but he can't seem to hide the fact that the heat is rising to his face and ears. Woonhak quickly presses the back of his hand on his cheek, trying to cool his face down.

"I'm just kidding, Woonhak." You chuckle as you get up from your bed. "Let's go see the cherry blossoms, I'm excited to see where you'll take me."

As the two of you approach the cherry blossom area, Woonhak seems to grow more nervous. You don't notice it as you're too busy looking at the approaching cherry blossoms.

"You know, they say this is the place most couples go to during cherry blossom season." You tell him, recalling the last time you went to this place. At the time you didn't know it was such a popular space for couples to go to. Embarassed, you had looked around for a little bit before going to another spot.

That day, you had rambled on and on to Woonhak about how embarassed you were to see all those couples. You told him how no one was alone, which made you feel bad.

"I remember." He replies, "You wouldn't stop going on and on about how you thought that the couples were glaring at you because you were there all alone."

Woonhak chuckles and stops walking. He looks up, and you do the same. A fresh breeze cause the branches to sway a little, a few petals already falling. When you return your gaze back to Woonhak that's when you notice he isn't standing next to you anymore

You look around and see him standing near a branch that hangs lower than the rest. He's closely looking at the flowers, his hair hanging in front of his eyes. It's moments like this that make your heart skip a beat, moments where you look at him and realise you want to be more than best friends.

"What are you doing?" You shout out. He looks up and flashes a big smile.

"Just wait, don't come over." He replies. "I'm almost done."

You watch as he jogs over, holding something behind his back. His eyes twinkling, and his smile wider than ever.

"Here." He says, revealing what he is holding behind his back. It's a cherry blossom ring in a box. Woonhak takes a deep breath in before continuing.

"Can I be your boyfriend?" He asks, holding out the ring towards you. His heart is beating in his throat, yours feels like it's going to jump out of your chest.

"Yes you can." You answer, as you hold out your shaky hand. Woonhak laughs at the sight of it, and carefully puts the ring on your finger.

"Nervous?" He teases, as he takes your hand with the ring. Your fingers intertwine with his, and you shake your head.

"Not anymore, because I'm with my boyfriend at the famous couple cherry blossom spot." You laugh, "Now the couples can't glare at me anymore."

[jpitha]

Allergies

This is a rewrite of one of my oldest shorts. As a writer - especially one who posts online - never worry about redoing some old work and posting the new one. Artists often will show their old work against their new right? No reason writers can't do the same either. Be proud of all your work, but feel free to show your improvement too!

The small station was in a popular shipping lane, so it had high amounts of traffic. Even though the humans had brought their wormhole generator drives, many people were still used to using the Gate system. Retrofitting every starship would be too costly, take too much time, and (some worried) would shift the power balance towards the humans too much. One didn't have to be human to be set in one's ways.

Because of the high amounts of traffic, most of the people on the station worked in the service industry. Providing meals, entertainment, refreshments, repairs and other such things, the population was quite diverse. In their off hours, they mingled and socialized.

Generi stood there awkwardly, still wearing the uniform of the trinket shop he worked in, his tail drooped and his ears low, trying to make sense of it. “Explain allergies to me one more time?”

Meg sniffed and wiped her eyes, but she smiled softly. She was sitting at a table in the resident's lounge. At her feet was a bouquet of flowers “Our bodies have this compound, called histamine. It's released in response to an attack - an internal attack - on our bodies. It's meant to help our bodies expel an invader. You know about itching? I've seen K'laxi do it. It's one of the regulators of our itching response. Mind, you, Histamine does way more than that, but we're talking about allergies right now."

"Wait, what do you mean by attack?" One of his ears perked up. This went from embarrassing to interesting very quckly.

"I know you have bacteria Generi, I also know your bodies digest food for energy. What happens when you get an infection?" Meg said, raising an eyebrow. Her sniffles and tears had subsided now that the bouquet was away from her face.

"Oh, I've never heard it called an 'attack.' Uh, our body temperature lowers, and we go into a kind of torpor. We lay down somewhere safe and stay still. Since the bacteria only can thrive in a narrow range of temperatures our bodies cool until our immune systems can take care of it." Generi puts his paw on the chair opposite Meg and looks at her, questioningly. She nods and he takes a seat.

"Really? Cools? But wouldn't that have put your ancestors at risk for predation- wait you didn't have predators, you were apex in your niche, weren't you?"

"I'm... not really sure. I'm not an anthropologist."

"Me neither, but I think I remember reading something like that. Our bodies are different. They raise their temperature to fight infections. It's more dangerous than your torpor because we can... well, die from it." Meg shrugs. "It doesn't happen too much anymore, but it used to be more of a thing."

"That sounds like a human, yes. In a race between killing your infection and killing yourself." Generi's tail flicks - a grin.

"We're getting off topic." Meg gestures towards the flowers, "in the case of an allergic reaction, our bodies call for histamine to be released when a harmless-" She glanced over and saw Generi's face "Fine, harmless - for us - substance enters our body, but we treat it like an invader."

"And this happens to everyone?" Generi was amazed at this impromptu biology lesson. It certainly seemed like humans were nearly constantly at war with something. Their own bodies, themselves, their neighbors, no wonder they were so good at it.

"No, not everyone, but a lot of people. It's fairly common. Anyway, in some people the body overreacts to the substance and produces histamine which causes the allergic reaction. Sneezing, runny nose, itchy eyes and body, congestion, things like that."

Generi flicked his ears and nodded, combing the two species gestures for assent. "Okay, I understand now. So the flowers...."

"Yes, I'm allergic to Roses." Meg blew her nose.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Generi was despondent. "I read about giving humans flowers as a sign of affection and I...I wanted..."

"Oh, I understand the intent Generi, I'm touched, really!" Meg reached over and patted his paw. She noticed his fur rise just a little bit. "I'm just allergic to Roses. Next time, try a different flower." She stood. "Wherever did you get them?"

"One of the humans over in Little Earth is growing them. He has a whole garden." He voice was filled with wonder.

"I had no idea. I can't believe the station authorities allowed it, some human plants are downright... prolific." Meg stared at Generi for a second. "How about you take me down to see them? I'll take an allergy pill first, and we can look at them together before it's shut down and it has to all go into the incinerator."

"You mean, like a date?" Generi's ears stood straight up, and his fur rippled once.

Meg started to laugh but held it back so as to not hurt his feelings. "Sure, just like a date. It'll be fun."

[shiki-jin]

liar ♢

kaeya x gn! reader, reverse comfort

somehow my period cramps turned into kaeya revcomfort. do not ask me how this happened. also you should maybe expect another kaeya comfort fic cause i have a separate idea id like to write ....

i should probably redo my masterlist actually it's getting kinda ugly (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

CWS — implied suicidal ideation (kaeya), some self-deprecation (kaeya), talks of death at the beginning, alcohol

—

he's a liar down to his very core.

he knows he is; he was born one, and he'll die one. it'll be written on his overgrown gravestone, he thinks. he finds entertainment in the thought; maybe having a grave covered by flowers and vines would be the ultimate irony. he is a destined sinner covered in lies and pretty deception, and so his death will be ugly stone covered with colourful, lively plants.

he's not dumb enough to think anyone will visit him. even his own brother hates him, and for good reason. still, he's foolish enough to hope you might pour a bottle of death after noon above his rotting body. to hope you hold him dearly in your heart, but not too close. he doesn't want to lose you like he lost his family because of his predetermined sins. he's scared of the thought that he might really break if you leave. that his heart might fall down and shatter, that you might look at him in disgust, rage, and betrayal.

your voice is the one to take him out of his drunken spiral. speak of the devil, he chuckles, not really listening to what you're saying. he wants to, he does, but he's downed a few too many bottles to make out anything you're trying to tell him.

even so, the vague comfort of familiarity is enough to tear his eyes away from below, and he turns to try and look at you. he thinks you're wearing the knights' uniform, and he absentmindedly wonders if you'd come to check on him right after you had to deal with overtime after your regular shift. he doesn't want to know if it's the alcohol or his heart keeping him warm.

he just knows it feels nice when you wrap his arm around your shoulder to make him lean on you while you walk him downstairs. it's not as nice when he can't hear your voice anymore.

he leans his head against yours, trying to get you to talk again. he thinks you give him an annoyed glance, but he hums, satisfied, when he hears you speak. he tries his best to not inconvenience you too much and to walk on his own, but when he keeps stumbling, he realizes he might've gone a little overboard with the alcohol tonight.

he feels bad for you, having to make sure your own captain doesn't die of alcohol poisoning after nearly every shift, even when it's well past midnight. being forced to walk — no, carry — him to his own home and put him to sleep, listening to whatever words his drunk mind wanted to get out.

it must be exhausting, he guesses.

he must be exhausting.

he sits down on his bed, watching you calmly take his jacket and shoes off. you follow up by setting all the little accesories he wears aside and similarly discarding all his clothes — well, besides his shirt and shorts. you stand up with his boots in hand, but he can't stop himself from holding onto your fingers desperately when he thinks you're about to leave.

he looks towards the floor. he doesn't think he can bear to ask you what he wants to if he sees you, so he settles for your shoes. he slurs his words, but he's being genuine now.

“don’t go.”

he sees your shoes staying in their place, facing away from him, like you're contemplating whether to give in or not, and he adds a whispered “please”. he feels warmth around his wrist, and thanks the god he doesn't care for that he can actually understand what you're saying now.

“okay. i'll stay.”

he hears you drop his boots before you undo the tie around his hair, threading you fingers through it carefully a few times. he's lifted and laid down onto the bed with a gentle arm around his waist. he swears the mattress dips down and that he can see you sitting next to him, but he can feel his fatigue catching up.

he gives your hand a soft squeeze, and when he closes his eyes, he gets one in return. it's the only night in weeks that he's gotten actual sleep.

when he wakes up, he knows he definitely drank too much. he groans lightly, feeling even shittier than before. not like he'd expected anything else. he tries to grab the clock on his bedside table, but feels something cold.

a water bottle. next to it, a box of pills. he can just barely make out what it says, and realizes they're to be taken during a hangover. he looks to his side and notices your slumped form, still sitting on the bed, still leaning against the wall, still holding onto his hand. you're breathing quietly, chest rising and falling lightly while he just stares.

he thinks it's an uncomfortable position to sleep in, but you seem so serene he doesn't try to wake you.

it isn't long before he gets nauseous again, and decides he should probably take the water and pill if he wants to keep admiring you. he swallows them without much complaint, turning back to you.

he thinks he understands why others love to love now.

he doesn't deserve it, and he's probably the person most afraid of it on the entire planet, but he gets it now. why poets write verses filled with endless praise again and again, why artists create paintings with the same muse over and over.

he grasps your hand just a little tighter, willing you not to dissapear. he leans in closer, eyelids drooping while he studies the structure of you.

kaeya alberich was born a liar. he will always be one, and forever be destined for loneliness.

but he doesn't care as much about what fate says when you're next to him. he doesn't care about the sins staining his soul as much when you care for him like this; like he's precious, fragile, worth something, anything at all.

he doesn't care about the deception and lies that bind him every second of the day, because right now, he isn't lying when he whispers a confession of love to your resting figure.

[hyunsuks-gf]

WANT YOU

pairing. idol!hyunsuk x idol!oc

warnings. smut. studio sex. dom! hyunsuk. oral (f receiving). dirty talk.

──────────────────────────────

i just wanna hold you, wanna party...

...tell me, do you wanna feel my body?

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the knock on the door was so soft that hyunsuk could barely hear it over the music on his closed studio, causing him that confusion instantly as he wasn't actually waiting for someone. his members were at the dorm, at least most of them as he knew some were practicing on the dance room, but they wouldn't give up some practice to hang out, so he actually didn't knew who could it be. at least before thinking about her.

the knock was noticed once more as the room went quiet for confirmation and he stoop up to open the door, just to stay shocked were he was. she looked amazing. her long black hair wasn't there anymore, which only attracted more attention to her cat-like eyes and that cute natural blush that appeared as his intense gaze wouldn't stop analizing her. her hair was short, shoulder short, it was more of a blue dark than the black one she had. she was beautiful.

"hey." she chuckled, almost bringing him back to reality. "can i come in?"

"sure..." his voice still came out unsure, almost as if he couldn't get his mind straight.

her eyes stopped right on the computer illuminating the dark room, which now had the producing programs opened as well as the tracks he had worked on in the passed few weeks. she knew he would had planned staying on that studio for most of the night, probably even past late night hours, but she had to at least steal some of his time for her. just a little bit.

"too busy?" her eyes went back to the purple-black haired boy, which just stayed in place and couldn't look other way that wasn't her new look and how good she looked on that baggy fashion outfit.

she was definitely made for him.

"i was just finishing up." he denied with his head, even knowing she wouldn't catch up on that lie. she knew him too much. "something's up?" he walked over to his chair, sitting on it before closing his computer.

i mean, she could lie to him, but her eyes wouldn't, so it was worthless to even try. hyunsuk could see more than just her words and maybe that's why she decided to come up to him, especially on her situation. he could maybe understand her.

he would understand her.

"yea." she sighed, sitting on the couch aside as he came back to his original position on his chair, this time facing to her with undivided attention. "we just came back and we are already planning on the next one to put it out in a month, and my mind is all over the place with everything so i can't kind of seem to focus right now on what i have to do so..." she started yapping on the storm of thoughts that were going through her head, not even stopping to get a single one out in a right way.

"wait, wait." he stopped her in a chuckle, finding totally adorable the way she just wouldn't stop talking. "slowly, baby." he smiled reassuring he was listening, just to find her doe eyed stare at him back.

baby.

god, it was such a long time since he called her like that.

"i can't seem to get a rap right." she summarized in a sentence that came out like a soft murmur, sighing as she looked embarrassed at her fingers. "i've already wrote like fifteen raps and none is good enough."

yeah, he didn't believe that.

since they were trainees, akari was the best girl trainee at rapping, in every single way, from rap writing to the delivery to the pronunciation, even if she was a foreigner totally unaware of the korean language. her writing was something he totally looked up to every time her group did a comeback, so he definitely didn't believe her.

"show me." he asked, looking at how she stopped playing with the hem of her fingers, totally dumbfounded. "please"

she could totally say no, she could just say it was an exaggeration and she could just leave, but then there was her logical thinking. she was there for a reason, and that was that hyunsuk knew perfectly how to help her.

he'd know how to get it right. like every single time.

she opened her purse, putting out of it the USB pendrive she had prepared with anticipation before standing up and walking towards him, stopping right by his side to plug it onto the computer. the problem? she totally forgot what it was to be that close to choi hyunsuk. how could she forget the way it felt to have his gaze fixed on her? or how his strong perfume miced with his scent was good enough to make her melt? and she would definitely not talk about how bad she just wanted to kiss him right now.

and that's how she understood how difficult it was to plug a fucking pendrive.

"lemme-" he chuckled, taking the pendrive off her hands to help her plug it instead. he took the mouse and immediately started to open the archives, looking up to her after seeing a lot of files.

"uhm, yeah, here." she leaned, trying not to invade his personal space while looking for the archive, but it was definitely impossible.

he just could laugh at how cute it was the way she tried to keep space between them, specially knowing about their past and how they wouldn't even care about it. so why would they now, right? his hands immediately stopped at her hips, bringing her down to his lap in a spam of two seconds where she barely could understand what just happened.

"suk." she looked back at him with a flustered look and her warning tone, just to find his intense gaze signaling the computer in front of them.

"show me."

she was fucked.

her eyes went back to the device, opening the files with the most unreadable face she could make, feeling those fucking nerves appear in her stomach every second that passed by. her voice started to bust out of the speaker, totally embarrassing her enough to click pause and lower down the volume, playing it again just for him to evaluate it. it definitely wasn't as bad as she thought, but it didn't feel like fully her; there was something missing, and he could immediately say what. she played another version, biting her lower lip the second she realized it.

his right hand was on top of her lap, and his left one didn't even try to move away from her hips. fuck.

"why don't you try a change of flow here?" he leaned a little bit forward to replay the part he wanted to point out. "like that, you can give it more dynamics and make a contrast with the song." he explained shortly, at least before looking up to her eyes.

"yeah." she nodded dumbly, staring straight to his eyes.

yeah, she would definitely do that.

hyunsuk chuckled, knowing perfectly she wasn't paying that much attention anymore and was more distracted with the situation they were in than with whatever she had to be doing. and to be honest, there was nothing that satisfied him the most than knowing he still had that effect on her.

"what happened, baby? don't like it?" he tilted his head with a teasing tone, going back to that nickname she could feel her legs give up for.

"no, no, i just..." she tried to explain, looking back immediately to the computer. focus, akari. "i don't want to make you lose your time." she mumbled some weird excuse, trying to get off of his lap before even thinking of doing something else.

yeah, he was not allowing that.

"where d'you think you are going?" he pulled her down to his lap once again, this time closer to his body than before. "i'm going to help you." he stated, looking directly to her eyes.

"how?" her voice came out in a whisper, totally flustered about how close they suddenly were and how hot he looked right there.

she didn't even get how good he can look in long hair. and the purple strands he had now? she could just feel like pulling them while...

"you are just too stressed." he interrupted her thoughts, leaning directly to her neck in a bold move that just got her paralyzed, melting slowly under his breath and the wet trace of kisses he started to deposite right on those spots. "you are doing good, baby, too good..." a sigh escaped her mouth, closing her eyes as her body decided to give in with so much thought. "trust your skills, i know you can do well." he looked up to her while talking sweetly, leaning forward just enough to brush their lips slightly. "right?"

"mh." she nodded, totally flustered still, hypnotized enough to not think in anything else that wasn't crashing their lips together. "oppa..."

"mh?" he looked up to her again, feeling too engaged to how cute her lost expression looked.

"i..." she sighed, looking away a second before looking back at him. fuck it.

her lips crashed against his like she had been thinking about since she stepped on that studio, leading her hands to his face as her tongue intertwined with his, savoring their mouths as they hadn't in such a long time. hyunsuk couldn't help but chuckle at the feeling of their lips moving against each other, he just found her nervousness and the way she hesitated for every move so cute for him to resist not wanting to take control.

"let me help you..." his voice came out in a whisper panting as she couldn't stop kissing him not even a second. his right hand made it's way to her jaw, stopping her to pull her away in a possessive way. "let me help you relax, aka, i known you can." he looked up to her eyes, watching her nod in agreement almost immediately.

she didn't even have to think about it twice.

"please..."

and he didn't have to listen it twice either.

hyunsuk immediately kissed her without a second thought, pulling her up from his lap a millisecond to change her position, now her legs straddling it for a comfortable one. his right hand was now on her lower back, pulling her closer to his body as his lips slowed down a shivered path down to her neck, holding back that desire of marking every single inch of skin that was under his control. this was bad, both of them knew that, but they definitely couldn't stop once the logical thinking was out of hands and all they had was the heat of their bodies against each other.

"i missed having you like this." he panted before coming back to her lips, letting his fingers danced over the button of her shorts immediately. "all just for me." he inclined until their foreheads touched, brushing their lips together before pulling her up once again but this time sitting her down on his desk. the single idea of tasting her once again was enough to make him go insane. "up." he commanded, watching how she obeyed right away so he could pull her shorts down to the ground in a quick move.

god, wasn't she so beautiful?

"suk..." her legs closed immediately after, totalled shy about the sudden action that didn't happened since too long ago.

"no, no." his hands stopped her right away, opening them for his eyes to see. "open up, baby, i wanna taste..." he murmured, noticing the wet patch in her panties in an instant. "already so wet f'me, baby?" he chuckled, leaning to her thighs to start kissing them up.

"shit, please..." she whined out, impatient enough already to look down at him. the sight was magnificent. "suk..."

"i want to take my time." he mumbled, letting the wet kisses send those goosebumps along her skin, stealing a pout from her. "you are so beautiful, aki..." hyunsuk chuckled, leading his hands to retire her panties with such a slow pace he could even melt at the sight. his fingers lingered at the hem of her panties, pulling them down once he thought her asks and her cute whimpers were enough to make him impacient for her taste. "fuck..." he cursed at the look of her dripping cunt, making her mouth watered at the sight.

he didn't hesitate enough because the moment his tongue took a taste, he knew there was no going back. his wet muscle made it's way through her folds in a slow and long pace, taking his time to enjoy her taste and the trembling whimpers she was letting out thanks to him. she tasted so good that the memories immediately went back to his head, letting out a soft moan at simple thought of having her again. akari looked down with the flustered expression he had caused, gripping the desk with her left hand while letting her right one stop at his hair strands right away as her ideas came back in. his eyes went up once he noticed her grip, smirking as their eyes encountered each other before he leaned in once again.

a wet and hot kiss was left right on her clit while the eye contact was maintained, sending shivers through her spine in a second as a moan put of pleasure left her mouth. it felt so good she could just cry of neediness right there on his studio desk. hyunsuk closed his eyes as the hunger striked in, thirsty enough to take his job seriously right away. his hands guided her legs over his shoulders, making her gasp as he sinked in that addictive pussy.

"is that good, baby?" the tone of his voice didn't even matched the way his tongue was moving against her core. the whimpers and moans coming out of her mouth tried to be an answer at his question, making him chuckled while stopping his movements. "words, aki, i want to hear you."

"yes, suk, t-that's soo good." she gasped at the feeling of his tongue doing magic against her. "fuck, fuck." she whimpered as she closed her eyes strongly.

"c'mon, baby, let go." he whispered, caressing her right thigh with his fingers slowly, contrasting the rapid pace of his tongue. he could feel the way her breath itched, how her body tensed as her moans got even more desperate. the signals of her orgasm getting closer to hit her.

"shit, just like that, suk, right there..." she cried out, feeling the frustration of her close orgasm manifesting in tears. "yes, fuck!" she whimpered, pulling his hair to bring him even closer to her core.

her orgasm hit her with such a breathtaking punch, reaching it's climax as her fluids were left on the tip of his tongue, slurping every drop she could leave.

"mh..." he savored in a moan, enjoying the spams of her overstimulated clit before pulling out.

"oh, god..." she panted, closing her eyes the second she felt the rush of calmness going through her body.

hyunsuk couldn't help but chuckle, cleaning the rest of fluids left on his chin with his fingers, leading them to his mouth immediately to keep on tasting her. it was definitely his drug.

"now i just gave you the inspiration you needed, baby."

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hey! just a reminder english is not my first language and i'm new writing here! if you want to be on a taglist for this you just have to comment! tysm;)

taglist ! — @purrplegyuu ...

[topgunruinedme]

I Got Dreams But I Can't Make Myself Believe Them

Word count: 7.5k

Parings: Rooster & Maverick, Rooster & Iceman, Iceman/Maverick

Summery:

'Hey it’s Mav, leave a message. And no Ice whatever they’re accusing me of, I didn’t do-' He jabbed his finger on the screen again. Tears in his eyes. It couldn’t end like this. It just couldn't...please... It rang. Once Twice- “Hello?”

His face hurt. Pulsing with a vigour that he knew he should take his pain med and yet…he hadn’t. Because he deserved this pain. He deserved this. 

This aching, the dagger-like sensation deep in the muscle when he tried to move. Still, it was not even close to a fraction of what he made them feel. So, he deserved this. 

The pain. The punishment. They always did tell him he was a masochist. Fretting over his father being gone, whether Mav missed him, why  he  didn’t miss him. Worried about his mother's health, if they would lose the house, why wasn’t she smiling anymore. Would Mav stay or would he leave him without his favorite Bradshaw's; after all Mav wasn’t his babysitter. Was he going to be stuck alone in this world struggling to finish high school with the crushing debt of his mother's hospital bills and house lines that he discovered showed under her bed two days after the funeral. Was he going to die hungry or cold? And his newest one, would anyone care if he burnt in? 

At least he had an answer to the last one. No. It was so painfully clear now, he had pushed too far and they had given up on him. The phone calls and messages left unanswered, the lettered read tearfully and shoved in a box under  his bed  that stayed with him religiously through deployments. The Admirals who bumped into him occasionally in deployments which he  knew  was their way of checking on his health after all files can only offer so much. 

Yet…no one had come when he called. When he had laid on that hospital bed terrified out of his mind, cold, bloodied and half the mind that either he was Nick Bradshaw or he was seeing him. And no  one,  had come.

His NOK. His dad. He called. 

No one.

No one cared anymore.

He remembered the nurses holding him down as he screamed out in short panic bursts as what he now knew were  cold induced  hallucinations raged through him. He remembered managing to grab a nurse's arm and begged them to call his father.  Begged.  Over and over again, demanding she keep trying until they sedated him somewhere between the  forth  redial.

No one came.

His dad didn’t care anymore. 

He had gone too far and they had given up on him.

He pressed his face into the tattered plushy pushing down the whine of pain as it agitated the stitches on his chin tugging at the cuts. He curled around the soft toy in the limp bunk at his base housing trying to breathe through the pain. Wheezing as the position put a strain on his already sore ribs, bruised but thankfully not broken, but there was only so much they could do about the bruising caused by the harness. They marked up his chest, around his shoulders and down his back, making him look like a mummy who went through a fight and became a kickboxing victim. They weren’t pretty overall. He certainly wasn’t going to be winning any medals any time soon.

It was strange what  near death  situations did to a person. Twelve hours ago he was filled with such hurt, such hatred towards Maverick's actions, not him as a person but hurt about how he went behind his back and stopped him from succeeding…he just couldn’t see why they couldn’t have talked about it. Now. After spending all those hours alone trapped in a hospital wing, half aware of reality, strapped down to his cot like some dangerous criminal. All he wanted was to hold his father's hand. All he wanted was to go  home. 

But the question stood, did he even have a home to go back to now? 

He remembered the  crokard  post box from that time Mav had tried to teach him to drive and he accidentally mixed up his accelerator and brake. But despite the years, Ice never fixed it. Maybe he was also a sucker for memories. 

He remembered Ice’s fond smile as he helped apply the coloured paint to his hands after he insisted on putting their handprints on the mailbox after watching the new Disney movie UP. Ice had simply shaken his head, dug out some paints from one of Maverick's abandoned side projects and let himself be dragged out to the front lawn laughing all the way. 

He remembered the loose and wobbly handrail to the stairs in the hallway that always made Ice sigh and roll his eyes anytime he heard it creak, yet he never got it fixed even when Ron apologized for being too careless while roughhousing with Wolf and offered to fix it himself. 

He remembered the way Maverick would be waiting for him in the kitchen every morning before school. Chiding him to get dressed as he snagged a piece of bacon from the pan while Ice wasn’t looking only to complain that it was  hot,  when he  himself  was  bare chested  new and faded marks across his chest with low sweatpants on his hips, bed hair wild around his head. 

The way every Thursday without fail their house would be filled with his uncles, spread out around their living room in various stages of a food coma, gorging themselves on the sweets Mav would spend all morning making with a pleased smile. He always had been his happiest providing for other people, seeing they were happy. 

He remembered the board game night, the nights they would spend curled up on the couch together with some nonsense show that no one was really watching, and the nights they sometimes spent out watching the stars. 

He remembered them cheering at his little league games despite being tired from a long day at work or having just returned from a deployment, which he now knew they would have been dead on their feet just wishing for a bed. He remembered their concern muttering when he was sick and their fingers through his hair. He remembered Ice’s mother's lullaby that the man would hold him through the wee hours of the morning and hum under his breath when they thought he was asleep.

He wanted to go home, he wanted it all. But he had lost it all when he cut off contact. And he was half terrified that they were angry at him, every time he sat there and thought about calling, about turning up on their doorstep to ask for forgiveness he would just stare at the number of missed calls, he would think about the hundreds of voice messages. He’d feel the burning of the box of letters all unanswered under his bed as he laid down and hugged his goose plushier that they had given him all those years ago. No doubt abusing Ice's powers to discover his address when he heard that he was in hospital in his junior year of university. The seams were now ratty from how often he ran his fingers over them, the fur carefully taken care of but despite his efforts the old plushie was dying, and unlike everything else in his life it was leaving him too. He could no longer preserve the memories within it. 

He bit his lip only for the sharp pain that shot through his head to remind him why he shouldn’t do that. He winced, not from the way the fur rubbed up against the fresh stitches, although it wasn’t comfortable, but over the fact that Maverick was right. His heart jumped in his throat. He wasn’t ready. 

Because Maverick had almost just lost him like he had lost Goose.

He had been reckless, and   arrogant; he had been a kid thrown into a jet and told he was good, his ego was inflated and he  hadn’t been ready. 

And he had fallen out of the sky. He had burned in. And he was damn lucky he didn't take anyone else out in the process.

He had paid his price, and it had almost been his own head.

A few more seconds…  the doctor's words ran through his head like a gunshot echo, warning him of the tragedy that could have occurred.

What will you tell their parents when they don’t come back? When they come back in a casket. What excuse will be ready then Lieutenant…  His commanding officer  lecture  piggybacking from his nightmares,  what excuse will be acceptable then? 

There wasn’t one. This was his fault, his own failure. What would they have told them if he died? 

You have my condolences Mr Kazansky,  Mr  Mitchell. However, your son has died in a training accident - having not even made it out of Top Gun - by his own stupidity! 

Yeah, he could see that going over well.

He ran his thumb over the screen of his phone nervously, should he call? He had called- the hospital had called. But maybe they don’t answer unknown numbers, old people were like that… right? His fingers felt clammy as he took a shaky breath, whining quietly as he thumbed through his contacts to find the right number and listened to the phone ring quietly.

Once. 

Twice.

Three times.

Each ring felt like a bullet in the chamber, he could hear tone ringing out around him as tears welled in his eyes, a sob building in his chest as the phone clicked, the call unanswered.

Too close, switching to guns. 

'Hey it’s Mav, leave a message. And no Ice whatever they’re accusing me of, I didn’t do-'

He jabbed his finger on the screen again. Tears in his eyes. It couldn’t end like this. It just  couldn’t…please… 

It rang.

Once 

Twice-

“Hello?” A croaky voice answered, indubitably not Mav.

"Ice?" His voice shook, "Pops?"

“Shit ”  .  Something rustled loudly over the phone and he could almost see Ice scrambling to sit up on the bed. A  bitten out  swear carried lowly over the line and it almost made him smile as he heard something clatter to the ground with a thud, no doubt the older man knocking something off the bedside table in his haste to grab his glasses and slide them on his nose to look at the phone. “Bradley?”

He sounded so hesitant as if he was afraid he was hearing things. It pained him to wonder how often his Pops had woken in the middle of the night hearing his voice and wondering if it was real or a  sleep deprived  hallucination. How often it left his Pops laying in his bed curled up with his hands over his ears trying to ignore his imaginary self calling for him for help, and not being able to help the man come back to earth. How many times had his Pops suffered silently and alone and he hadn't even known about it. 

“Pops” he sobbed, chest aching from the force of his whine and the pang of his heart at the thought of how many times he had been the reason for his parents to cry, the cause of his parent's pain over the years. 

“Bradley baby. What's wrong? Come on baby bird, I need you to speak to me”. Ice’s familiar level tone sounded unusually anxious, “Come on daring, you can do it. Take some deep breaths for me”. 

He hadn't even realized that his  panic induced  sobs had pushed him into the dangers of hyperventilation. His gaps of breath between his  chest shaking  sobs became shorter and more panicked as he acknowledged the lack of oxygen. 

“Breath,”  Ice pleaded. “Baby please”. 

“He didn’t answer” he gasped out, whimpering “He wasn’t  there  ”

“Bradley, honey what-?”

He could hear Ice’s underlying confusion as he whined in pain hissing behind gritted teeth as he burrowed his face further into the soft teddy irritating his stitched cuts. “Mav” he whined, his voice muffled as he pressed it further into the soft fabric, ashamed of his clingy neediness for his parents despite being 25. The mortification of crying out to them over a little crash. He felt like a kid creeping into his parent's rooms during the night after a nightmare, sweat still clinging to his brow, stomach rebelling as he hovered by their bedside unsure whether to wake them or not. But despite the early hour they had always opened their arms to him, shifted and made room for him between them on the bed. Always. Maybe…after all this time, just maybe Ice could spare a little room to allow him a few moments to recuperate and shuffled away in shame. 

Realistically he knew that Ice couldn’t see him. He knew that Ice wouldn't care, that the man would simply look at him with pursed lips, his brows furrowed in concern and coo quietly as he gathered him in his arms, careful to guide his face over his shoulder to prevent him from aggravating his wounds further. Despite what many people thought Ice had been more of the mother hen type than Maverick. Mav had been the cool uncle, then he became the serious dad he needed to be but Ice, Ice had been the cool dad. Ice had been the one to take on his missing mother role, the man had melted into it without blinking. Always making sure that someone was there to kiss his brow and tuck him in at night. Who made him breakfast in the morning and took time out of their day to help him with homework when Mav got sick of trying to help him and stomped off frustrated. He was the person who would stand on the guidelines of his games with a cooler of drinks and bulled him into letting him apply sunscreen while he ate the sandwich he had been prepared for lunch while Mav got into an argument with the couch. Ice was the one who would smile at him empathetically holding him when he cried over a crush. Who gave him his  talk  and he was always there a hand away to allow him to crawl into his lap no matter how old he got to comfort him. 

Mav may have been his dad. But Ice had been his Mum, his Pops. He knew that Mav loved him in his own way, but he also knew that he was partly there for his guilty hand in his father's death. He also knew that Mav had promised Carole he would be there for him (Hospital walls are not as soundproof as you think Mav), that he would take his Godfather duties seriously. Whereas Ice,  he  never had to stay. He knew they were wingmen and they tackled problems together but Ice never made him feel like a problem. He always made sure he was included, he never pushed him. Ice never has to stay, and while the man harboured his own guilt over Nick, he never pushed it, never brought it up. They spent his memory day sitting on the patio in the backyard and  drank  Kool-Aid with him silently. Ice didn't have to step in but he did, he didn't have to stay but he chose to. 

He didn't think he could have a mum again after Carole but he did. And that was partly the reason he couldn't bring himself to hang up. Because despite his shame, the agony of his embarrassment and fury at Mav. Cutting Ice out had been the hardest decision of his life and now hearing the man's voice he couldn't find the strength to hang up. Not when he was so close, his smooth voice in his ear begging him to stay. 

“Baby” Ice cooed in concern, it was soft and familiar. It reminded him of the warm feeling of home, the same tone Ice would use as he sat on the edge of his bed letting him climb onto the man's lap clinging to him when his mother was in hospital, not caring that he was far too old to be doing so. He could almost see the soft frown and those gentle eyes staring down at him, and feel the carding of the man’s fingers through his curls. “Baby, are you looking for Mav? He’s out at the hangar tonight. The idiot forgot his phone. I promise he didn’t ignore it on purpose sweetheart-“

“The hospital called” he choked out “I know. I begged them too”.

“Hospital?” Ice sounded alarmed “Bradley-“

“I asked them to call and  he didn’t come ”.

“Bradley Bradshaw”. The soft tone shifted to a firm disciplining one, one he didn't often hear coming from Ice’s lips. It was rare to see him step up into the role of the displeased parent, but that didn't mean it hadn’t happened. Like when the man crossed his arms across his chest with pursed lips and a disapproving look when he caught him sneaking into the house  at  the early hours of the morning when he had been specifically grounded, or when he went drinking for the first time while underage or when the older man had caught him clumsy stubbing out a weed join on his windowsill eyes wide in alarm. This doesn't sound like Ice was disciplining him, no it sounded panicked as if Ice was trying to hold himself together and keep himself from panicking him further when his breathing had just started to slow to a reasonable speed. 

“Bradley baby, why were you in the hospital? Are you ok? God-  please  be ok” Ice sounded desperate. And for a moment it warmed his chest, the next it made his stomach clench uncomfortably. 

He had always taken Ice’s compassion for granted and he had used it against Mav more times than he could count to get what he wanted. He had been a spoiled brat and at the time he hadn't cared about what it would do to the two wingmen. And the worst part about it was that while Ice picked up on it he never made him stop even when it led to the two wingmen arguing or sleeping at different houses. But he always came back. It made him feel sick because  fuck  Ice really did care about him and he still cared about him. Even after he threw him to the curb, after he chewed him out, cutting away their bond and years of love with a rusty knife in hopes it would rot away and get infected. Even after he ignored every call, deleted every message and refused to read the letters and cards the man sent. Even after that horrid ceremony; after he so blankly disregarded Ice’s rank and achievements in front of  everyone . Ice had still stuck by his side. Because despite his�� 7 year long  temper tantrum, Ice had stuck by him faithfully. He had respected his wishes and avoided getting the same posting as him, doing his maternal duty to send him away if he was anywhere close to them even if he couldn't prevent himself from sending someone to check up on him occasionally to settle his worry. Even if he couldn't prevent himself from sending cards, or from sending him letters each deployment knowing he wouldn't read them just to remind him that someone would care if he burnt in. 

“Today was hop 31” he whispered out with a croak, the demons that accompanied the words settled on both of them, however, there was an unusual heaviness to his. As if more weight had been added on in an attempt to make his knees buckle and maybe there ha d.  Every time he closed his eyes it was no longer the spinning of the Pacific ocean around him as he was strapped into the jet, he no longer heard his dad's voices calling out in a panic, he didn't hear the sound of his father's neck snapping against the canopy or the rough tug of air as it detached. Now he heard the panicked voice of his wingman. He heard Hangman scream out of him  “Roosters heading out to sea! I repeat Roosters going out to sea! Permission to follow-” “Denied Lieutenant''.  He now saw the  stomach clenching  sight of mountains dropping around him as his jet dipped dangerously out of the training zone towards the sea where their adjective had been. It had been simple: fly through the terrain, don't get hit, and get back to base. Where had it gone wrong? When had Hangman’s taunts turned into fearful screams, when was the annoyed fighting turned into the sound of his jet screaming at him to pull up?

He let the line fall silent, taking a shaky breath trying to pull away from the shaking of the jet, the sharp tug of the G-force and the claustrophobic feeling of the canopy closing in on him as the piercing scream echoed in his head, his death sentence. 

“Low Altitude, pull up. Low Altitude, pull  up- ”. 

He could hardly hear anything but if that was the gun cocking then it was Hangman's fearful cry that was the bullet,  “Rooster-!” 

He squeezed his eyes shut and instead let Ice do what he did best and allowed the man to gather his evidence and piece it together himself. 

“I’m not Goose” he rasped out,  barely,  when the response took too long. Reminding the man of his hand in one of the worst mistakes of his life. But it was necessary as much as he hated it because he knew Ice, unlike Mav who blamed himself publicly not afraid to attempt to redeem himself for his hand in it, Ice suffered silently letting his mind run over the scenario looking for a way they could have saved Goose, looking for a scenario that didn't exist. Ice loves to torture himself, and like him, Ice  was  a masochist. “It was fine. I was on my way in and an engine blew. I couldn’t- I went into a flat spin and collided with the ocean” he continued and let out a humorous snort “I burnt in Pops”.

“Christ kid”,  Ice's voice sounded suspiciously wet.

“I’m ok” he mumbled, “I wanted you there.” He tugged the plushy tighter to his chest, closing his eyes as he listened to Ice shift the sheets and audibly stood up from the bed hearing the man mutter to himself quietly as he began to move around the house. There was the recognizable creak of his childhood stairs then a door shut and the phone clicked falling into a vain eerie silence. Had- Had he been wrong? He bit his lip shoving down a sob, his lips wobbled, his eyes squeezing shut. 

Had Pops- he hadn’t hung up had he? He wouldn’t leave him, right?

Pops loved him…he wouldn't leave him. He wouldn’t, but he wouldn't blame the man if he had. It’s not like he had done anything to instil confidence into the older gentleman. He had brushed him off, thrown his offers back into his face, disgraced the man's title in front of the brass and thrown more venom at the man in the last 7 years than he had shown love. 

He let out a wounded noise sob ripped from his lips, teeth chattering as his chest tightened. Ignoring the taste of blood in his mouth as he curled around the plush, squeezing it so tightly it made his shoulders ache and wrist click in protest. No longer making a conscious effort to keep the blood from smearing on the white fabric.

“Bradley?”   

His breath hitched eyes, snapping open, tilting his head back to look at the phone that had fallen from his grip to rest on the mattress to his left as he curled onto his side, the line was still connected.

Ice's worried voice wobbled through the line. “Baby bird can you hear me?” 

“Pops! You- you-“

“Deep breaths honey” Ice reminded him gently. 

“You didn’t leave ” .

“Never” Pops promised firmly. “I’m sorry darling I should have warned you, I forgot there was a lag when the phone connected to the car”.

He blinked and swallowed thickly, reaching up to rub the thick tears from his face sniffing snotty with a grimace as he used his sleeve to rub the evidence from his skin,. His voice clouded with tears as his still scattered brain tried to process the information “Car?”. His head was still pounding and the impromptu crying was not helping in the slightest but the nurse had told him he would be sluggish for the next few days until he healed, then again she had also told him to avoid phones and screens for the next 72 hours. Of anything it was their own fault for allowing him to talk his way out of having a supervisor to watch his every move. Telling him not to use a screen was like telling a pilot he couldn't fly when the new F-25 was sitting right in front of him. 

He was going to do it. He would do anything he had to at this point to hear his Pop’s voice, even if he had to fly to DC and burst into his office himself- that is if they are still posted there. But no, he remembered the creaking of the stairs, the sound was seared into his brain. They had to be down in Miramar, they had to be…right?

That was home. They wouldn’t change that. 

“Yes sweetheart, we’re going to go find that idiot of a father of yours” Ice chuckled fondly.

“Why-“ he stuttered hesitating as he worried the words around in his brain for a moment before finally dragging the dreaded question he's been worrying about since he stomped out of their lives 7 years ago from his lips, “Why isn’t he with you? Did I-''. Had they separated because of him? Why weren’t they living in the same house, they had lived together for as long as he could remember, they all had. 

“No Bradley. You didn’t do anything. He’s just at the hanger, said he needed to do some work on his baby” Ice soothed apparently knowing him too well, perhaps it was a leftover skill from having to learn how to predict his mood swings as a teenager but Ice had always had the knack of knowing what he needed in the moment. He had been so sure on more than one occasion that the man could secretly read minds, but maybe he just knew his thought patterns too well. 

He frowned in confusion, “He has a hanger? Like…his own?”

“I was not impressed” Ice huffed in assurance with a heavy  put on  sigh “If anything he certainly topped the retriever incident, I think he was trying to win some obscure challenge. Then again I wouldn't mind so much if he was actually home more and cared for it”.

“Retriever?”. His stomach clenched as he blinked away tears as he listened to Ice smile fondly as he recounted his wingman's antics. He bit his lip subconsciously. How much had he thrown away? 

Listening to the fact that their lives continued on without him hurt but deep down he knew he hadn't really expected the world to stop spinning. He hadn’t expected for them to stop living their lives just because he had left, but to hear confirmation that they moved on, just as he had…it hurt. 

How much had he missed?

“I came home from a meeting a couple of months ago and Slider was supposed to be watching him but apparently he got  distracted  ”. He let out a wet laugh as Ice drawled in an unimpressed tone. A woman then, they had always been Uncle Si's weakness. One he had seen the others exploit many times to win bets or escape babysitting duties. It was almost a game within the group, or at least it used to be. He could almost hear an Ice smile behind his grouchy tone “Anyway I got back and there’s Mav, dozing away on our couch with a baby golden retriever on his chest. She’s the cutest little thing” Ice cooed only to fall into a brief moment of awkward silence when neither men knew what to say before Ice broke it gently, “We named her Rooster”.

He felt like he was going to be sick. Even after all this time, after all he put them through they still wanted him just as much as he did. 

“Pops,” he cried wetly.

“I'm here baby bird” his Pops promised “Now. Tell me about what you’ve been up to in the last few years since we’ve seen you”.

“You're an Admiral, shouldn’t you already know that? I know you help keep Mav updated” The tone wasn’t accusingly just…tired.

“I do,” Ice said quietly, not bothering to do anything to hide his involvement, “But I want to hear it from you”.

So he told him. He started by explaining how he had driven to the edge of town and checked into a motel after he stormed out of the house, how despite having sent Mav away with his tail between his legs he couldn't stand staying in that house anymore knowing Ice would come home and convince him to stay. So he did what he did best, he fled. He told him about how he called up admissions to California University and reversed his refusal; one of the conditions of a bet he lost to Slider a few years ago that he would apply to the same university that his uncle had graduated from, at the time it hadn't meant anything to him a mere joke. He explained that the university had been surprisingly accommodating once he spun a tale about a Navy relocation that was changed last minute allowing him to attend the university, a lie that Ice lowly chastised him for over the line. How he packed up his limited belongings that night with only his broncho, a few hundred dollars in his account and a quickly  put together  duffle to his name and left that night to drive all the to California. Driving from dawn to dusk trying to sober up from his  7 hour  drive huddled up against the window of a coffee at 5am in  the morning  curled around a cup of coffee trying to stay awake long enough to get his keys from the rental company and crash into the first empty bed he saw. 

He laughed about how he met Jackson for the first time. How his roommate had been allegedly studying at his desk reading through the textbook for their economics and aerodynamic classes when the door of their dorm opened, but before he could greet him apparently he had chucked his bag, letting it fall to the ground and stumbled towards the only undressed bed in the room. Jackson had told him he looked like a zombie dragging himself around dead on his feet, bags under his eyes slurring as he muttered to himself, practically throwing himself halfway across the room at the chance of a wink of sleep, only to misjudge the distance and land half on the edge of the bed and roll off with a startled shout. Jackson had told him after laughing so hard he ended up tilting off his chair and joining him on the floor that he had just stared silently at the ceiling blinking slowly with a confused look as he registered  falling  off the bed.

He confessed how he spent that first night laying awake (of course that was after his frankly illegally long nap, if you could call it that) unable to sleep as he tapped his fingers against his phone that rested on his stomach, fully aware of the missed calls and messages from his uncles, his parents. But the burning need to respond just hadn't been enough to rival the flames of fury curling around his heart like barbed wire. He spent the whole of his first night conflicted, wondering if he should give up and change his mind and go home, that he should beg for Mav to tell him  why  he did this, why he wasn't good enough. Surely there was a reason, something he would fix to make Mav love him again. The memory of Mav recalling in on himself, jaw flexing as the words left his lips leaving a cold grip around his chest as Mav turned on his heels and walked out of the house. 

Go away and never come back  old  man. I don’t want murderers in this house! 

He told Ice about how he powered his phone off and got a burner phone for the first few months, unable to look at it with the burning anger that made him want to throw it at a wall hoping it would break. Knowing he wouldn't be able to resist the temptation to reach out if he saw the calls waiting for him. Knowing that he  needed  to do this, that he couldn't give in yet, that he needed to fight for this. For him. 

He told him about how he got a job waiting tables at a nearby mum-and-pop dinner run by an elderly couple, who reminded him of frighteningly grandpa Viper. About how the older couple had stepped in and who took care of him when he was struggling. How they bullied him into staying after his shifts for dinner or pushed hot chocolate onto him and waved away his money when he tried to pay, and how inventive he had to get to hide his tips around for them to find, knowing they would pull his ear  like  Uncle Wood used to with an exacerbated fond look. 

He relaxed back into the mattress smiling as he recounted his subjects and the people he met. Even going as far as to admit that he found most people his age immature and recounted some of the drama and frat initiation he had witnessed. He had never really gotten along with them, instead he chose to hang out with Jackson most days. Unlike him Jackson wasn't heading for the Navy, the man was instead aiming to work as a consultant for the Pentagon. The man loved aerodynamics but the man had admitted that flying made him queasy, and he very much preferred to keep his feet on the ground. 

He whispered out the painful admission of returning home for the break not having the will to go anywhere else for the holidays only to book out a hotel room and hide out there afraid of running into any of them. He recounted the nights he had sent in the cold bundles up in his truck outside their house watching the lights go off, unable to take the step of actually knocking on the door. Trying to ignore Ice’s sharp inhale pained with the knowledge that he had been so close. 

He talks about how Jackson and he lost contact after graduation both being busy with their new jobs as the man moved out to Texas and as he  himself , moved to Annapolis after finding someone who allowed him to enlist and how he got accepted into the academy. He talked about how he was the oldest kid there and the prejudice he faced from the other recruits due to it. How he was dismissed by the teachers and scrutinized by instructors who urged him to find a new career that suited him better. About how he graduated second in his class only beaten by one person, Jake Seresin. 

He discussed his frustration and rivalry that bloomed and continued through their deployments only to pop back up, like the leach he was because Seresin was a damn cockroach, as his competitor when he was accepted into Top Gun. How it was only due to a surprising friend from the academy popping back up, Natasha Trace, who kept him sane (and likely from being discharged from punching the man's perfect teeth in) and later became his best friend (one who was very unhappily to find out that they were being separated after graduation, she was being stationed out at Hawaii, hours away from his station in Japan). He talked about how close the points were, about how their rivalry seemed to fizzle out in the moment his jet tipped to the side unresponsive and the man cried out for him. How in that moment, the trophy didn't feel like it mattered anymore.

“They always did put too much focus on that damn trophy” Ice muttered, “The point of Top Gun used to be about being the best, as a team. Now… we’ve lost too much with the encouraged competitiveness”. 

He hummed limply as the conversation fell into a sort of lull as he realized how long he had been talking, it was almost 1:23am, almost 2 hours since the call started. And Pops was still here, listening. Who had recognised his distress, and had woken up at an ungodly hour to go and drive out to wherever Mav had boarded himself up for the night simply because he needed him. 

“Hey Pops”

“Yeah, kid?”

“I'm wearing your hoodie”. Part of him knew he should be embarrassed at the admission, he ran the cuff of the old faded grey hoodie between his fingers finding comfort in it even though he could no longer smell Ice’s expensive Italian cologne clinging to it. But he couldn't bring himself to be. Sitting comfortably on the centre of his chest covering his sternum was a dark blue and red image, a familiar image, a dark blue circle surrounding a white F-15, marking his chest with his destiny. The words that had been engraved in his mind long before he had ever set foot on the ground before him;  United  States Navy: Fighter Weapons School.    

“Your Top Gun one”. It had given him a connection to them all, being so far away from them, wearing it was the only time he was able to scratch at the nauseating homesickness that rocked his whole being. It had given him a homestead, the name printed across his shoulder blades connecting him to his lineage and the bond connecting his family together. 

Kazansky. Graduate of Class 1986, Top Gun.  

“I know,” Ice said quietly, “I noticed it was missing not long after you left. You know…there's a photo of you in it up on Penny's bar, at the Hard Deck” Ice corrected before chuckling lightly, “You've grown into it well, I remember when you were a scrawny kid and it just dwarfed you but you refused to wear anything else”. 

“I used to take it when you were deployed,” he swallowed, “It was stupid but it made me think that you would come back for it”. 

“Brad's,” Ice sounded wretched, “It was never the hoodie I came back for, it was you”. 

“I know. I know that now. But…it reminds me that maybe one day…you'll come home again”. 

“Bradley-”

“How is everyone” he interrupted sniffing and  swallowed  down his regret. There was a pause, clearly Ice contemplating chasing up the chain of thought before the man sighed reluctantly submitting to the change of subject. 

“Well, you have two new nieces and nephews. Wolf and Wood adopted a little boy three years ago, and Sunny's wife had a surprise kid a few years ago while he was out on deployment, surprising them both” Ice commented dully. 

He frowned in confusion, “But I thought Anna was infertile?”

“So did we” Ice hummed but slowly allowed them to fall into the comfortable lull of the conversation as Ice updated him slowly with everything he missed, careful to add in details he thought were pertinent; like Slider retiring from being an Admiral and becoming a commercial pilot, apparently the man was much happier now. Or Wood and Sunny who had co-opened a bakery and coffee store that they had named ‘the smiley shorts’ which honestly didn't surprise him as much as it should have. Or about how Cougar was working in a hospital under his wife who had been promoted to the chief of surgery. And slowly he started to mend a little more. 

“Bradley baby, you still with me?” 

He blinked tiredly not realizing that he had closed his eyes at some point, he tried to shake sleep from his limbs as it attempted to claim him. He yawned, jaw cracking in the effort as he rolled onto his back tilting his head back towards the phone where it sat on the mattress next to his head. “Pops, right here” he mutters in confirmation, “On your wing”. 

“That's right baby bird” Ice let out a small chuckle “Right on my wing. Talking about wingmen. We’re about to find one”. 

“Mav?”

“Yeah, darling”. The engine spluttered in the background, and he heard the keys jingle as Ice muttered lowly  ‘It's too damn cold for this’ . He listened trying to picture where Ice was as he heard a door opened then the crunch of dirt under boots. He frowned, brows pulling tensely as he tried to picture a desert, or somewhere with a vast amount of land that would allow Mav his solitude but was dry enough to crunch this time of year. He jolted slightly in confusion at the sound of old metal banging against something with a clatter and the loud noise of something heavy rolling. 

He almost wept hearing a tired confused voice, “Ice? Honey what are you doing here? It’s almost 3 am”. Mav sounded the same, that lovering concern that he had been on the receiving end of all those years ago and he could see the way Mavs eyes would be pinched in the corner, lips tilted down as he studied them for any injuries, trying to figure out what had happened before they could form a warped lie. 

“I have someone who wants to talk to you”, this time he could see Ice's smile, the one that bloomed behind his closed eyelids, the small jump in his lips that bloomed into a gentle smile as the phone travelled hands.

“Uh-hello?” Mav asked, sleep still evident in his voice and he slivered at the flash of memories of seeing the man stumble into the kitchen wrapping his arms around Ice’s waist as he pressed a sloppy kiss to the man's check knowing he would swat him for it as he did every day with a grumble only to pair a cheeky grin to Ice’s unimpressed loom. How he would stay attached to Ice for the rest of breakfast swaying with him a step behind the blond seamlessly ducking out of the way without needing to be asked, passing along ingredients to distract Ice from the wondering fingers trying to snatch a piece of bacon front he pan before it was plated only to end up with a lecture and a wooden spoon to his hand. He remembered Mav’s pouting only for him to turn with a wink as he used to stick his tongue out to tease them. 

“Dad?” His voice trembled faced the fact he was speaking to his father for the first time in just under a decade. 

Mav hailed sharply, “Baby?” Mav sounded awake, startled by the concern that dragged into his voice. He sounded  happy , shocked but happy. 

“Dad” His heart slowed his chest aching but relieved as the sense of home finally settled over him. 

Home.  

“Bradley honey what’s wrong?” Mav asked worriedly. 

“He said the hospital called you but you didn’t turn up” Ice rumbled in the background quietly allowing them to have their own moment, no doubt the man had led Mav to sit down holding him close, tugging him into his side. 

He could go home. 

“Shit, I didn’t have my phone- I didn’t realize until after I got here-”

“Dad,” he interrupted the man's panicked rambling with tears in his eyes as he looked down at the goose in his arms that had offered him so much comfort in the last few years but dispite the memories it carried, it was nothing to rival Mav’s hugs, or Ice’s kisses. It wasn't like curling up with Mav on the couch or being tucked in by Ice. It wasn't home. 

“Yes, baby?” 

He took a deep breath trying to push back the emotional overload that once again threatened to overtake him, that clung to him weighing him down in the ocean dragging him further underwater like a parachute filling with water with no tactical knife to free himself with forced to watch the rope tangle around his body trapping him as his body jolted at the lack of air. His voice trembled, breaking as the tears became evident in his voice, “Can I come home?” 

“Of course, baby” Mav sounded choked up almost as if he was crying as well  “God Bradley,  of course, you can come home. You were always welcome home”.

And for the first time in  years  he took a deep breath and his  heart felt  weightless  and  he smiled and thought of home, only this time, it was closer than he thought.

[mydearestbeloved]

Movie night with jinwoo, reader and either jinho or jinah where they watch The Descent. When the creatures appear and chase down the group, reader's and jinwoo's hunter instinct kick in and they start animatedly discussing how to best take the hoard down like taking advantage of the creatures' sharp hearing, using the complex structure of the cave etc. out of work habit. Meanwhile, jinho/jinah is there like this isn't a horror movie anymore you guys are ruining the mood 😭

This scenario fits them so well I almost can't believe it 😂

Unfortunately, I'm really bad at anything horror in general. There are only some horror comic/anime that I can stomach just because of their art/animation. Live action is a hard pass, I apologize. I'm a bit better at thriller though 🙏

So, I could only do so much research on The Descent without traumatizing myself. And since I'm not sure if I can put this scene in Trial Player AU official story despite this fitting so perfectly in Jinwoo's and Reader's dynamic, I hope you'll enjoy this short blurp I managed to write somehow:

---

The living room was cozy, dimly lit with the faint glow of the TV as The Descent played on the screen. Jinwoo, you, and Jinah were huddled together on the couch, surrounded by snacks and blankets. The eerie silence of the cave scenes drew everyone’s attention, the tension building as the group of explorers stumbled upon the terrifying creatures.

When the monsters lunged out, Jinah let out a yelp, clutching a pillow to her chest. But instead of joining her in the panic, both you and Jinwoo leaned forward, eyes narrowing, the gears in your heads visibly turning.

“Did you see that?” You said, pointing at the screen. “They rely on sound to hunt. If they just stayed completely still and silent, they could avoid detection.”

“True,” Jinwoo replied, nodding. “But if they had to fight, the creatures are blind. You could take advantage of that by using misdirection—maybe toss something to make noise and attack from a different angle.”

“Exactly! And the cave’s layout is complex enough to set up ambushes. Funnel them into tighter spaces, limit their mobility—”

“Or use the stalactites as natural weapons. It’d take some effort to break them, but with the right leverage, they could cause a collapse to take out several at once—”

“ARE YOU TWO SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?!” Jinah’s voice cut through your animated discussion, her face a mix of horror and exasperation. She looked between the two of you, utterly scandalized. “This is supposed to be a horror movie, not a Hunter Strategy 101 seminar!”

You blinked, momentarily startled by her outburst. “But we’re just—”

“NO!” Jinah jabbed a finger toward the screen. “The whole point is to feel scared and helpless, not to turn this into a tactical training session! Do you even realize how much you’re ruining the mood?!”

Jinwoo raised an eyebrow, glancing at you. “We’re just… analyzing.”

“Stop analyzing! The monsters aren’t even real!”

“But Jinah,” you interjected with mock seriousness, “if you think about it, the group could totally survive if they—”

“OUT!” Jinah threw a handful of popcorn at you, her glare enough to make you and Jinwoo raise your hands in surrender.

Jinwoo smirked as he leaned back into the couch, clearly amused by his sister’s frustration. “Alright, alright. No more strategy talk.”

Jinah huffed, hugging her pillow tighter. “Good. Now let me enjoy the movie before you two decide to strategize about how to survive Jaws next week!”

You stifled a laugh, whispering to Jinwoo, “Bet we could totally handle Jaws too.”

Jinah groaned. “I heard that!”

---

Thank you for your ask! 💞

[margotw10bis]

Pretty Baby.KNJ [m]

sugardaddy!namjoon x sugarbaby!reader

Genre: smut; short-story

Words: 4.9k

Synopsis: Namjoon is your sugar daddy. However, you can't deny how your heart is jumping in your chest when he calls you his "pretty baby"…

Warnings: rough sex; unprotected sex; anal sex; first anal; oral sex (f. receiving); Namjoon is huge 😳; he loves ass; use of "daddy"

1 → 2 → 3 (Bonus : Memories ; Doubts & Possibilities)

What just happened? Namjoon is so shocked about your demand that he just stays still for several minutes. He has never imagined, in a thousand years, that you, his pretty baby, would put an end at your relationship like that. Were there signs he didn't see? Were you unhappy? He genuinely thought that you liked spending time with him, especially since he started to make efforts to know you better. He even thought that you liked him. But you obviously don't.

He wanted to tell you to change your mind, to think about it, that he could change if you wanted him to, but it would have been selfish. It was already too damn selfish willing to keep you for himself when he was fucking other girls — even if he doesn't anymore.

He thought that something changed the last time you two had sex. It was different, more real. Did he imagine everything? It looks like it since you just stepped out of his office after throwing a bomb at him. Fuck. But then, why would you look so sad? Everything is messed up in his head, he can't think straight.

More than the surprise caused by your announcement, Namjoon feels something truly unpleasant in his chest and he wishes it was just his ego. But it's not. He knows damn well it's his heart. Once again: fuck.

————

"I don't understand you, honestly" Jimin sighs

Yeah, you neither. You regret so, so much what you did yesterday. You clearly let Lisa messing up with your brain. You should have trusted Namjoon rather than her. You were so afraid of being hurt that you pushed him away and you hurt yourself instead. That's fucking stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

"I don't need you to tell me I've fucked up, Jimin. I need you as my best friend to support me and tell me everything is going to be fine" You say with a shaky voice, ready to start crying, again

"Come here" He whispers to hug you and rub your back

"Can I stay here tonight?"

"Of course you can. We are going to watch your favorite show on Netflix and eat some pizzas. How does it sound?"

You look at your best friend and feel so damn lucky to have him. You rub your eyes to get rid off the last tears and get the TV remote.

In another part of the town, Namjoon opens the door of the apartment. Your apartment. He can't just give up like that, without even fighting. But the place is desperately empty. No lights on, no noise. You are simply not here. He still has a ridiculous slight hope when he opens the door of your bedroom. Yet, your face is no where to be seen. Namjoon's heart squeezes. Where the fuck are you?

He is not sure you will show up tonight so he decides to leave and go meet his parents. Maybe he could use some advices from a 40-year married couple.

Namjoon's mom is super excited to see her busy son. It's pretty rare he comes eat with them. But her smiles fades when she notices the look on his face. He looks tired and sad. Defeated. It breaks her heart to see him like this.

They sit in the comfortable and huge sofas of the living room. Every single furniture of their mammoth house is expensive. Namjoon's parents love buying costly things but also giving their money to people who need it. Maybe that's why Namjoon doesn't have any problem with spoiling his sugar babies.

"Can I ask you guys something?" He asks, unsure

"Of course, honey" His mom says

"How did you become a couple? Was it easy?"

His parents share a glance, half surprised half amused. Namjoon has never wanted to hear about love before.

"It was certainly not easy" His dad starts "Your mom is pretty stubborn. I gave her many presents, expensive jewelries and so on. But she didn't care at all. I honestly thought she wasn't interested"

"I didn't care about the money. I cared about him and his feelings. You know, love is not just words but acts too. However, the acts don't have to take the material form of gifts" The woman continues

"So how?" Namjoon asks

"Spending time with each other. Small acts of consideration. Actually, the best acts of love are the simplest ones because they show how sincere you are and that you care about the small details" Her mom answers

Namjoon takes a few moments to think about it. He has shown his affection with presents. Expensive ones, even. But you, you are full of those simple acts of consideration his mom is describing. You made sure he wasn't tired or that he ate well. You changed your shampoo when you noticed Namjoon's scrunched nose at the smell of it even if he didn't say anything about not liking it. You distracted him with a mind-blowing blowjob on the day he lost a huge contract. Fuck, everything you have done the past few months was little acts that made him slowly fall in love with you. But maybe you didn't think Namjoon cared about you too.

"Is this about the girl from the mall?" Namjoon's mom asks carefully

"Yeah, but I'm not sure she really wants to be with me" He replies honestly

"I think she does. The look she was giving you, it doesn't lie, honey"

Those words are what Namjoon needed. Now, he has to find a way to see you again.

————

You have thought about it all day. Should you? It's Namjoon's birthday and you were invited by his mom. But it's also true that you told him you wanted to end things... However, you miss him so bad and it has only been five days.

You check yourself in the mirror. Yes, you have thought about not going but you have still gotten ready. Your heart beats so loud that you wonder how it is not showing through the soft material of your white silk dress — great metaphor of your willing to go back from the start and start on a new page.

It's Namjoon's birthday. And you miss him. And you love him. The only thing holding you back is you and your fear of being hurt. Are going to stay alone your entire life because of that? That would be so pathetic. Fuck, Namjoon gave you so much confidence, where did it go? You would be so disappointed in yourself if you don't at least try. So you fix your mascara for the last time and head to Namjoon's party.

The house is way bigger than you thought, especially because it's in Seoul center. You can't imagine the price of it. You knock on the front door and a fucking butler invites you inside. You are stressed, you can feel your hands shaking. Thankfully, there are no too many people — you guess just family and close friends. That makes you wonder what you are doing here. Everyone is so elegant and, even if you have put on one of your most beautiful dresses, you don't seem to belong here.

"Boring party, isn't it?"

You jolt as a male voice whispers in your ear. You turn your head and meet some very handsome man. He could easy be elected World Wide Handsome. His brown hair looks smooth and his eyes are sparkling with playfulness. Let's not talk about his juicy and plump lips. Fuck, every women must be jealous of it.

On the other side, the stranger is quite amused by your shyness. He also wonders what such a pretty girl is doing it. If his friend Namjoon has you as a friend, Seokjin would be upset and disappointed that he didn't introduce you to him before. Yes, the man is a womanizer but a very picky one: he seems to date only the most beautiful women.

"I'm Seokjin by the way"

"Y/N" You reply, shyly

Seokjin's eyes widen. Are you Y/N? Like the woman his friend can't shut up about lately? Oh, things are about to get interesting... Now he understands Namjoon. You look very pretty in that dress, almost a sexy version of a cute bride. Yep, Namjoon will go crazy when he sees you and the slight shadow of your nipples through the thin and smooth fabric. But for now, he is not here and Seokjin is a flirt.

"I'm honored to meet the most beautiful woman of the night" He says with a seductive tone

You don't really know what to say so you just thank him. Is he flirting? Oh my god, how are you going to escape him?

"It's the glass I wanted to bring to my friend but I rather offer it to a pretty girl" He continues, handing you a glass of champagne

You take it. You need alcohol to gather your courage, especially if Namjoon tells you to go fuck yourself after what happened in his office. You drink the glass one shot.

"Well! You go faster than Dom Toretto!" Seokjin jokes, laughing so loud than a few people turn toward you

His laugh also attracts Namjoon's eye. However, he doesn't see his friend. The only thing that seems to be visible to him is you. You came. And you look so fucking gorgeous. Namjoon recognizes the silk dress, it was his birthday gift for you. It looks so good on you that Namjoon's brain starts picturing you in all kinds of situations — both with and without the dress on. He wonders if it's the kind of dress you would wear for your wedding day. And after your marriage, what you would look like with a baby in your belly, his baby. How proud he would be to have you by his side and how everyone could see you belong to him.

Okay, his brain is definitely sick because those are ridiculous thoughts. You said you didn't want this relationship with him. But, what are you doing here?

Namjoon walks toward you and your heart stops when you see him. He is the definition of handsomeness. And he is wearing a fucking black — Prada it seems — suit with a white shirt. It's the look you prefer on him. This is torture for you, especially if it's the last time you see him.

"Hi" You almost whisper

"Hi" His voice is neutral and you don't know if it's a good thing "Can I talk to you, in private?"

You gulp and nod. Fuck, you are stressing so much. He invites you to follow him and he leads you to his bedroom. A huge place actually with not only a king size bed but also a sofa and a large bookshelf. All the furnitures are matching, even the pattern of the fabric. The color scheme, warm beige with hints of green here and there, is soothing — something you really appreciate right now.

There are so many things you want to say but nothing seems to form on your tongue. You can't look at him. You are so overwhelmed by your feelings that you could cry.

"I'm surprised you're here" Namjoon says

There is no reproach in his voice, he is just sincerely surprised. You can understand. But is it a good or a bad thing?

"I can leave if you want"

'But please don't say you want me to leave' You pray internally

"No, I'm actually glad you're here"

Your heart does a backflip in your chest and you look at him with hope.

"I'm so sorry for what I've said" You say as you are gathering all your courage "I don't want to end the contract"

"But I do"

Your whole body freezes. Your heart stops too, in a painful way. It hurts so bad, like your soul is torn apart. So that's it. It's the end for Namjoon and you. Fuck, you wish you could go back and never went to his office. You would do anything to go back in time.

A breathless 'Oh' leaves your lips, like you have received an uppercut in the stomach — well, it's pretty much what you feel.

Namjoon gets closer and notices your eyes watering. Words are not enough to express what he is feeling so he does what he does best. He captures your lips and kisses you deeply. You moan both in surprise and pleasure. You don't know what the kiss means but you are ready to take whatever he is giving to you if it's the last time you see him.

Namjoon wraps his arms around your small frame. The silk of the dress is so smooth under the tip of his fingers, but not as smooth as your skin. His hands go down and find your ass. He makes sure to lift the fabric and digs his palms into the flesh of your asscheeks. The cold air on your hot skin makes you gasp in pleasure. He growls as he missed it so much.

You pull him closer by grabbing the back of his neck. His lips travel down your jaw and then to the thin skin of your throat. His wet kisses make you shiver and create a pool of arousal between your legs, especially when Namjoon sucks on your skin. A reddish mark adores your neck. Namjoon smiles at it. You are so beautiful, you can't go out without a stamp of him.

Namjoon doesn't stop. He firmly grabs your ass and lifts you up. You wrap your legs around his torso and secure your arms around his large shoulders. You are now higher than him and it gives him the opportunity to dig his face into your breasts. He messily kisses your boobs and captures your harden nipples with his teeth through the fabric of the dress. Namjoon smirks when he notices you don't wear a bra and bites your nipple a little harder, making you whimper. Your head rolls back and you arch your back to give him a better access.

Your soaked pussy also needs friction so you start grinding on his abs. You need him so bad. You are stressed and horny when you think about what you are going to do.

Namjoon walks to his bed and sits on it, you still inside his arms. The new position makes it easier for you to grind on his lap. You can clearly feel his hard-on against your clothed cunt. You tug on his hair to access his lips and you kiss him like there is no tomorrow.

"Damn, baby, you're on fire" He jokes against your lips

"I want you" You moan, there is no better way to say the truth

You pull off and stand up between his muscled legs. You can see lust in Namjoon's brown eyes but also some affection in them. It gives you confidence to carry on. You take off your dress and the sight of your body almost completely bare makes Namjoon's cock twitch in his pants. He can't help but caress himself through the fabric, and his dick gets even harder. You slid down your ridiculously small and wet panties to stand entirely exposed in front of him. You finally take off your heels, your feet thanking you for that. You feel fragile but also proud to have the courage to completely give yourself to the man you love. You will have nothing to regret, even if tonight is the last night you'll ever spend together.

Your breathe is shaky and your hands are sweaty. Fuck, stress makes your legs weak but you have made up your mind way before entering Namjoon's parents' house. You are prepared, both mentally and physically for what is coming. You now have to trust yourself and Namjoon. You turn around and give Namjoon a perfect view of your ass he loves so much. You slightly bend over so he can see both your holes. Your pussy is so wet that Namjoon's breathe on it makes you clench.

"Fuck, baby" Namjoon whispers as it was the most beautiful thing he has ever seen

"It's your birthday present" You say shyly

Namjoon is taken aback. Is it what he is thinking about?

"What do you mean?" He asks, clearing his throat — he wants to be sure he is not over-interpreting

You take a deep breathe and reply.

"You can have my ass tonight"

It's like a dream came true for Namjoon. He has been dreaming about it for months. Your perfect ass. He wanted to stretch it every time he squeezed your cheeks. It must be so fucking tight. Just thinking he will finally be able to dive in it could be enough to make him cum in his pants.

He doesn't waste any time and starts licking your glistening pussy. You moan about how starved he looks. He is literally making out with your pussy and it's so fucking hot. His tongue rolls on your clit, then digs in your entrance to go back to your clit again. It's so good that your legs quiver. At some point, Namjoon takes a fat licking from your sensitive bud to your pussy entrance but continues higher to your other hole.

You whimper as Namjoon takes big laps of it. The new sensation is beyond words. You feel way more sensitive. You have to grab his hair behind you when he enters your pussy with two fingers, still wetting your puckered hole. Namjoon's face is so deep between your asscheeks that it's scandalous but fuck it feels good.

He leaves your hole one second to bite on the flesh of your perfect ass. His fingers pumping into your dripping cunt are delightful, especially when he goes deep and fast, making your legs weak. You can feel some arousal going down your inner thighs.

"Keep going, I'm gonna cum" You moan

Seeing you liking it makes Namjoon so fucking happy. He could eat your ass all day. Your hole is damn soaked right now and Namjoon starts entering it with his tongue. You're so sensitive, you're not sure to can handle it. Namjoon speeds it pace in your pussy and you almost scream. You tighten your fingers in his hair, bringing him deeper against your ass and he growls. Your pussy clenches and Namjoon digs his tongue further in your hole, almost not able to breathe. You know how sinful you look but fuck, Namjoon is tonguing your ass. The wave of bliss you know well in growing inside you but there is something different, something that makes it more powerful and your teased area is more sensitive. You can't hold any longer and you cum on his face and fingers. Choked screams of his name escape from your lips. Namjoon grabs you in his arms to prevent you from falling.

He puts you on his bed delicately as you're coming back down to Earth. He lets you rest a little and take off his clothes.

"Are you sure you want this?" He asks you, kissing your lips tenderly

"Yes, just be gentle" You say

You are crushing everything in him right now. The trust you put in him doesn't only fill his pride but also his heart. He promises: he is going to fuck your ass so good that you won't ever want him to stop.

"Tell me if you want to stop, okay baby?"

He kisses your forehead and spoons you. You feel his large and buff chest against your back but the way he holds you is so sweet that you push your ass closer to his cock with an urged need of feeling him. He places your upper leg a little forward to have a better access to your ass. He also makes sure to bring a good amount of your juices to your hole and to his large cock to lube them.

"I'm going to stretch you a little, I don't want to break you" He whispers in your ears "Yet" He adds playfully to make you laugh

Namjoon slowly pushes one finger in your so tight hole and you gasp. You hold on his other arm wrapped around your waist. He softly starts back and forth moves. It hurts a little but it's also so fucking good.

"Try to relax, it will hurt less" Namjoon says as he pecks your shoulder

You do as he says and you notice how easier it makes for him to finger you. He adds other finger and you almost cum instantly. Fuck, it's so good. You can't even describe how it feels. It's like you can feel him better, deeper. All the sensations are increased.

Namjoon enhances his pace when he sees you feeling more pleasure. He can't wait to put his dick in and to make you cum all over it. Your tight hole is going to feel so good around his length.

"Fuck, I need your cock"

Namjoon is beyond happy to fulfill your wish. He pulls off his fingers and grabs his cock. You feel his tip slightly entering your pussy to gather some of your arousal and then going up to your ass. He pushes to enter you but he is so fucking big.

"Come on, baby, I know you can take it" Namjoon encourages you

You gasp as his tip is inside you. You feel so fucking stretched. Pleasure and pain have never been this connected. You dig your nails deep inside his forearm but he doesn't care: you are fucking taking his cock in your fucking ass. Namjoon caresses your stomach to soothe the pain and keeps kissing your shoulder. He is so gentle you could die.

"Are you okay?"

You nod and Namjoon pushes deeper. You feel every single inch entering you and stretching you. You know he is not entirely in you but you're not sure to take more of him. Namjoon seems to feel it and he slowly pulls over, not completely, to push inside again. You start moaning, louder and louder as Namjoon pounds faster. The pain is still here but the pleasure... Oh god, it's beyond words.

"Fuck, Joonie" You moan as he enters your hole deeper

"You're doing great, baby. It's the best birthday present ever"

He grabs your asscheek and squeezes it hard. He spreads it to look at his dick fucking your ass. Feeling your very tight hole stretched by his huge cock is delightful. Especially when he is the first one. The thought makes his dick twitch inside your ass. He enhances the pace a little when he sees you relaxing and having pleasure. He feels so proud of it, that his cock provides you pleasure. That his cock is fucking your ass. He growls when he realizes it.

"You're so fucking perfect. Your ass feels so good"

The bliss is driving him crazy. He could fuck you so rough that you wouldn't be able to walk for days. But it's your first anal, he can't just destroy you. He grabs your chin to kiss you. Your hand reaches the back of his head. He gives you one hard dick stroke, making you scream his name. You don't even care that other people in the house hear you.

"That's it, scream my name, baby. Tell everyone who fucks you good"

"It's you, Namjoon" You moan loudly

He starts pounding pretty hard and fast in your ass and you're on the edge. Namjoon captures your throat with his large palm. He is almost entirely inside your ass and you feel him so deep. You have never felt so full. You start feeling a huge orgasm building inside you, despite your empty and clenching pussy.

"My pretty baby" He moans when sounds of skins clapping starts filling the room

You're so close to cum. Namjoon looks at your perfect ass taking his cock. Your cheeks get spanked by his thighs and abs every single time. He is not as gentle as at the beginning but he can't hold himself, especially when he notices how fucked up you look. You love his dick in your ass, he can feel it. He swears, he is going to fuck your perfect little ass harder the next time and you will beg for more. The show is so sinful that it spurs Namjoon to push deeper inside your ass, now entirely. He doesn't even know how you manage to take his dick in your tight hole but one thing is sure: you do and you do it fucking well.

"Oh, fuck!" You hiss "I gonna cum"

Namjoon smirks and slaps the side of your ass. You feel your empty pussy clenching. He seems to hear your silent prayers and the hand around your waist goes South to slide two fingers into your cunt, making you groan loudly. You feel so full of him that you can't help tightening your holes. Namjoon is fucking your ass so good. He hides his face in the crook of your neck and hugs you tighter in his arms as he pounds you deeper.

"Cum for me, baby" He whispers, almost begging you as he feels he won't last long

Your hole is too tight and it feels too good to have you in his arms. It feels so good to see how much you trust him — you let him fuck your ass for god's sake!

"Yes, yes!" You scream, loosing your mind over the pleasure

"Fuck, I love your ass" He growls, the vibration echoing into your core

You can't hold on any longer and you cum hard on his cock and his fingers buried deep in your pussy, almost crying of how huge is the wave of pleasure washing over you. You mumble some words you don't even know as you are high. So high, way beyond clouds.

Namjoon pounds a few more times into your tight ass and releases his cum inside. He hugs you so tight, leaving your pussy empty again but still inside your ass, like he is afraid you vanish.

You two stay like that a moment. You can't believe Namjoon just fucked you ass. You also can't believe how much you liked it. You almost fall asleep, you don't want to leave his embrace. You feel good, peaceful. You hum in content and scoot closer into his chest.

"Did you mean it?" He asks suddenly

"What?"

"That you love me"

Your body tenses and your eyes open wide. What? How does he know? You pull over, running at the opposite side of the huge bed. You try to cover your naked body with your hands. You look so panicked, almost terrified.

"It's okay if you didn't mean it" Namjoon reassures you, even though it breaks his heart to see how you are reacting right now

Did you just confessed your love while you were having an orgasm? Well, the best orgasm ever, but still. You're so ashamed. You didn't want to tell him like that. Fuck, when you tell Jimin you said 'I love you' to Namjoon while his dick was in your ass, he is going to laugh so loud...

You are ready to deny it but when you see Namjoon's face, you can't lie. You do love him. You can't keep being a coward and lying to Namjoon and to yourself.

"I meant it. I love you, Namjoon" You confess in a whisper

The silence is killing you. Especially when it's the exact moment you brain chooses to remind you that Namjoon said he wanted to end the contract too.

"That's a good thing" He says, surprising you "Because I love you too"

He gets closer to you and caresses your cheeks. Okay, you have always loved how kind he was after sex but the way he is looking at you right now, it make your heart melt so much it hurts. You can't help kissing him. Namjoon chuckles against your mouth and hugs you tighter. Honestly, he could fuck you again. No, he could make love to you.

"Say it again" You ask

"I love you"

His bright smile with his dimples brings so much happiness to you. Is it possible to die over joy? Because you could right now.

"Okay, there is no contract anymore but I'm not gonna lie, you're still my pretty baby"

You giggle.

"I have to tell you something" You say, pricking his curiosity "I'm jealous so don't you dare having another baby"

"I'm all yours" He reassures you

Like you said, Namjoon has always been honest with you. So you believe him when he says there is nobody else.

"I think we should go back to the party. I can't not showing at my own birthday"

You nod but wince when you sit.

"Are you okay?" Namjoon asks, worried

"Yes, it just hurts a little" You confess, cheeks reddening

Is it bad that he feels proud of it? He wasn't exactly soft but he definitely can get rougher and honestly, he can't wait to pound into your ass again. Or your pussy. He doesn't care as long as he can give you pleasure.

Namjoon helps you standing up and getting dressed. Your beautiful silk dress is now completely crumpled. You pout at it and Namjoon finds you so pretty. Now that he knows you love him, his brain is even crazier than before: images of you in a white dress walking down the wedding hall or of you with a round belly are stuck in his head. But he definitely can't go as fast, he will scare you.

Does that mean that he will wait for years? Absolutely not. His pretty baby better be prepared for her Christmas present. Especially after the best birthday present he has ever had: you saying that you loved him too. 

3 → Next

Taglist @gimeow @whoreseok723 @wecanpretendit @missbangtangirl @dprmoon @baechugff @parkinglot-nights

[grims-sunshine]

hello! How are you? I see your requests are open? If it's alright, can i request some angst, but with a happy ending because I'm too damn soft🥲 Fem Tav being absolutely devastated when Astarion confessed but also that he was originally manipulating and using her? I never see anyone writing Tav being upset over that, like she's in love with him, but is rightfully angry and upset with him and just sobs while avoiding him for a while? 🥲

Hi hi anon! I'm good, thanks for asking <3 I hope you're alright too!

I love this idea so much aaaaah! I had to start writing pretty much immediately ahaha

Thanks so much for the request, I hope you enjoy it <3

🤍 Feel Better 🤍

Pairing: Astarion x Tav

Word count: 1.7k

Tags: angst with a happy ending, some mild anxiety, arguing, Tav says a few not so nice things maybe

"I care about you."

It's true when you say these words to Astarion. At least you think it's true. At least it was true just five minutes ago.

You're pretty sure it's still true.

You pull Astarion into a hug, and aren't sure if you do it because you want to hug him, or because it feels like the right thing to do.

He hesitates for a moment, but puts his arms around you as well. You're overcome with a wave of happiness that he hugged you back, then sadness that he just admitted to having manipulated you, then anger that you were dumb enough to fall for it.

When he holds your hand, you see a glint of sincerity in his eyes. But you're not sure you can trust your own judgment anymore. Part of you wonders if he actually means it this time.

You know it wouldn't make sense for him to lie again, right after confessing his last lie and admitting that he felt bad for it.

But it didn't make sense for him to lie the first time either.

You've been defending Gale when the others were mad about his secret, and he wasn't sleeping with you. You tried to stand up for Wyll when Mizora showed up, and he hadn't shown even a hint of interest in you. You sided with Karlach and helped her deal with the paladins when you didn't even know her yet.

In short, you've been doing your damnedest to protect the people around you, not because you wanted anything in return, but because you're all in an unfortunate situation, just trying to stay alive, and you believe it'll be better for all of you to help each other. You would've done the same for Astarion, without him ever doing so much as touch you.

Your thoughts cause unease to rise within you, getting worse with every second. Once he lets go of you, you excuse yourself, rushing off to a quiet place, out of view from the others.

You sink to the ground, leaning your head back against the wall as your vision goes blurry. Before you even notice it, tears stream down your face and you suppress a sob.

You feel betrayed. Astarion played with your feelings just to gain a benefit from you, with seemingly no care how it would make you feel. You should've gotten angry at him, told him off for manipulating you, screamed at him for hurting your feelings.

Instead, you gave him a hug and said you care about him.

Underneath the anger and hurt, your feelings for him are still there, maybe stronger than ever. If you could just move past this, maybe the two of you can be happy together after all.

It makes you feel like a child, thinking that you're in some kind of fairy tale romance. But you're not the protagonist of a storybook, and you're starting to have serious doubts that Astarion is the prince who will sweep you off your feet and bring you eternal happiness.

And yet, that small part of you makes you decide to stay with him for now and hope everything will work out for the better. You're not sure if you're naive, stupid, or if Astarion really is worth trying, but you trust your gut feeling, even when your brain is telling you to break things off immediately.

Still, you can't help feeling hurt over everything that happened, so over the next couple of days you pull away from Astarion. It's not your intention, but whenever you're close to him, you start to feel dizzy, sick even. You feel your chest tighten and a knot form in your stomach that gets worse the longer you're around him.

You used to not get enough of being close to you, now it feels like your whole body recoils against his presence.

Astarion doesn't seem to notice that anything has changed -- Or if he does, he doesn't show it. If anything, he's become even more affectionate with you.

He's been seeking out your touch more often, giving you occasional hugs and stealing kisses from you. They make your heart beat faster, but you can't tell anymore if it's because you love him or because it sends your brain into overdrive each time, wondering if he's doing it because he wants to be close to you or because he wants to keep you hooked so you won't turn away from him now.

You hate that you have to question him. You hate that you feel like you can no longer trust him when you blindly would've put your life in his hands just a few days ago.

To make things worse, life has decided to hurl even more struggles at you while you're dealing with your feelings.

The Shadow-Cursed Lands have been getting especially cold at night. You try to stay as close to the fireplace as possible, but it feels like the darkness sucks away any warmth provided by the fire, so you're left shivering and wishing you could lie in a warm bed with several blankets instead.

"Wanna cuddle a little for warmth?" Astarion's voice catches you off guard and you almost flinch when you notice him standing beside you, watching you shiver and grasping your arms.

"Not that I have much body heat to give off, but, you know… I could be there for you in spirit." He continues, giving you a smile that looks almost a little shy.

You're hesitant at first, but something about the way he looks at you plugs at your heartstrings. You can't resist him, not when he looks like he's sending silent prayers to the gods that you'll agree.

"Yeah, sure. At the very least you'll block off a bit of the cold, right?" You say, earning a chuckle from him.

"I'll do my very best to shield you from the cold, darling."

He settles down facing you, wrapping one arm around you to pull you closer to his chest.

You try your best to relax, but your body still tenses around him, even when you try to just swallow down your feelings.

You lie in silence for a while, until Astarion sighs.

"Is everything alright, dear? You've been acting a little off lately. I wasn't sure if I should mention it at all, but to be honest, I am a little worried." His tone is serious, void of the usual playfulness in his voice.

Damn it. He noticed.

"It's nothing, really," you say, hoping that he'll drop it. Instead, he just looks at you, sceptical.

"Are you sure? You can talk to me, you know." He frowns brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "It's just," he hesitates, like he's unsure of what to say, "I feel like you've started avoiding me ever since I opened up about my feelings. So, I've been thinking, maybe I misread the signs and you actually never wanted to move past… Whatever the hells it was we had before," he rambles. Then, a little quieter, he adds, "You know, I've never done this whole relationship thing, and I really don't want to make a fool of myself by pursuing someone who doesn't like me that way." He lets out a nervous chuckle.

Oh hells no.

"Make a fool out of you?" The words break out of you, louder and angrier than intended. "What about me, who made a fool out of herself the whole time thinking you actually liked me?" You should stay composed, calm yourself before you say something you regret, but at that moment, all the complicated feelings you've been having swirl together and explode within you. "You didn't stop once to think about that, did you? But when it's about you having to deal with something unpleasant, suddenly it's a problem. Don't you think that's a little selfish of you?"

By the way Astarion looks at you, you'd think he'd just been slapped. Then he averts his eyes and you feel his hands tightening, gripping the back of your shirt.

"Right," he sighs. "I deserve to be called selfish, I suppose."

Astarion takes a deep breath, his jaw clenching as he thinks about what to say next, before he relaxes it again. "I know what I did to you was wrong. I manipulated you and you didn't deserve that. At all." His voice quivers a little as he continues to speak. "And I know it's no excuse, but this is what I've done for two centuries. Manipulate people to avoid getting hurt. I have no damn idea how to navigate a relationship with someone who isn't trying to make me suffer at every turn, or someone who I know will meet a terrible end because of me."

He looks at you again with a pained expression. "I really do care about you, despite what I've done, you know? I didn't intend to care about you, but you crushed all my intentions just by being your wonderful, amazing self. And if you're willing to give me another chance, I promise to make this right. I promise I won't ever try to deceive you again. I want to be someone worthy of your love and I'll do what I can to be that kind of person."

This time you're absolutely certain that he's sincere. There's not a sliver of doubt in your mind about that.

You don't even realize that you haven't said anything in a while until you notice Astarion grow increasingly nervous, looking at you like he expects you to cuss him out and tell him to leave any second.

You grab his hand and press a kiss to his palm. "I am willing to give you a chance," you say, seeing the instant wave of relief rush over his face. "I know you're new to all of this, and I know you've been through a lot. I should've talked about this sooner instead of just avoiding you. And I shouldn't have yelled earlier either. So I'm sorry as well."

Astarion presses his forehead against yours, pulling you into a close hug. "So things are good between us now, right?"

You nod, leaning in to kiss his cheek before nuzzling into his chest. "Yeah, everything's alright."

Title inspired by this

[mercillery]

ok can we have a part 3 for yandere zenon x cheater reader? im so totally absorbed in this scenario. For part 3, zenon somehow finds out that dante forced himself to reader and reader chan was loyal and faithful all this time. ((but now after the isolation and abuse reader chan went through [that she didn’t deserve ofc], she does not harbour any sort of feelings for zenon anymore. basically she’s now numb and emotionally unavailable)) zenon also finds out that dante ordered his dark disciples to twist the what truly happened which caused to put all the blame on reader chan. basically dante being dante and spreading his evilness. what would happen now that everything has been uncovered?

BTW I REALLY LOVE YOUR WRITINGS I HOPE YOU ARE DOING WELL. THANKS SO MUCH 💝💕🎀

WARNINGS: FEMALE READER + YANDERE THEMES + DANTE SUCKS + NOT PROOFREAD

NOTES: I honestly did not think I’d ever get to part 3 with this. Sorry this was so short, anon. And thank you for your kind words, I hope you’re doing well too 🫂🩷🩷🩷

I read this request and did the biggest 😮 of my life

Okay, so imagine Zenon, standing in the dim, ominous corridors of the Spade Kingdom’s fortress, a place so lacking in interior design you’d think they hired someone who exclusively works with shades of "doom" and "gloom." He’s brooding as usual, probably wondering why they ran out of skull wallpaper for the meeting room. And then—boom—news drops like the world’s most dramatic mic: Dante had forced himself on you, and you, the loyal soul that you were, got framed, slandered, and thrown under the metaphorical bus while Zenon fell for the whole twisted story like it was some top-tier villain plot.

How does Zenon find out? Picture this: A Dark Disciple, sweating like they're in a sauna, stumbles in, eyes darting like they just got caught in a game of "Who Told Zenon the Truth First?" Maybe this Disciple is one of those rare ones who took a philosophy course once and grew a conscience. Or maybe Zenon overhears a whispered conversation while passing by, because let's face it, his ears seem to pick up everything—he’s like the NSA of the Spade Kingdom, minus the Wi-Fi.

The moment the pieces click into place, the atmosphere drops about 20 degrees. Everyone nearby suddenly finds a very urgent task to do elsewhere. Dante’s penchant for turning every situation into a melodramatic power play has finally caught up with him. He had you cornered, used his twisted charisma and brute force to strip away your peace, and then had the audacity to spin lies thick enough to strangle your truth. Zenon never fancied himself an emotional man, but realizing you bore this cruelty alone ignites something he can't quite name but feels suspiciously like...regret? Rage? Maybe even shame? Oh, we’re venturing into feelings territory, and Zenon didn’t sign up for this emotional rodeo.

Enter Zenon’s response: the guy's ice-cold exterior shatters. Anger seethes through him in waves so palpable you could surf on them. He doesn’t yell—Zenon isn’t exactly a karaoke enthusiast—but his silence becomes so sharp that even the bravest Dark Disciple in the room considers updating their will. In his head, he’s calculating: How do you punish a brother who holds all the arrogance of a peacock that just discovered mirrors?

But here’s the kicker: as he processes this, he knows how numb you've become—how the light in your eyes that once flickered even in darkness now looks like someone turned the “Open” sign of your soul to “Closed.” And it hits him in a way that no bone magic ever could. The one person who stayed true, who endured his coldness and the insanity of being tied to him, was left shattered and empty because he couldn’t see through Dante’s lies.

And let’s not forget, Zenon is not a talk-it-out kind of guy. He’s more of a “this ends with me breaking several laws of nature and decorum” type. Once the truth settles, and he stands before you in that isolation chamber he should have burned down ages ago, there’s a new weight in his stare. No words will fix the cavern between you now, and he knows it. You’re a shell of who you were, and Zenon’s about to realize that revenge on Dante isn’t just personal; it’s poetic justice wrapped in a tragic bow. And Dante? Well, let’s just say his evil cocktail is about to become the least of his problems.

The bloodlust that ignites in Zenon when he finally pieces together what happened isn’t just your run-of-the-mill rage—it’s the kind of fury that could power a medieval war machine. And the best part? This time, it’s not directed at you; no, you’re the one thing in this twisted story he doesn’t blame. All that anger has one target, and it’s wearing Dante’s smirking face. The fact that it’s his brother who crossed the line? It doesn’t matter. Family dinners were awkward enough before this, but now, they might as well be battlegrounds.

He should’ve seen it coming, really. That nagging thought needles at him like a thorn he can’t pull out. A part of him knew Dante might one day take an interest in you—it’s Dante, after all, a man who considers “personal boundaries” a foreign concept, especially when it comes to beautiful women. But Zenon thought he had kept a tight watch on you, sure that the shadows of his vigilance were enough to protect you. Turns out, even shadows have blind spots, and Dante knew exactly how to slither into them.

And as that anger festers, Zenon’s usually ice-cold logic burns with a single focus: Dante. Dante, who knew you were Zenon’s, who saw that invisible line in the sand and not only crossed it but danced on it. Dante, who left you a shell, drained of feelings, left with nothing but numbness where there used to be warmth and hope. Zenon knows you aren’t to blame. Not for this. Not for anything. The thought anchors him even as the violent storm inside threatens to break him. You were his; you were true and faithful, even when he was too cold, too distant to see the truth.

The million-dollar question: what now? What’s Zenon’s next move, and what kind of trouble has Dante unknowingly signed up for? Well, let's just say the Zogratis family reunion is about to get an upgrade—from “tense” to “bloodbath, guest-starring the Grim Reaper.” Listen, Zenon’s been holding it together with that controlled, cold demeanor of his, but finding out what Dante did to you?

Dante might have a reputation as the charming, ego-fueled ladies’ man of the Spade Kingdom, but he messed up—big time. He should’ve known better than to touch you, Zenon’s one precious, untainted thing in a world full of corruption. Zenon isn’t impulsive, no; he’s meticulous. He’s the guy who plots three steps ahead even when he’s playing chess against himself. But with this revelation, his obsessive tendencies are cranked up so high that the needle might as well snap off the dial.

And don’t get it twisted: this isn’t a rage-fueled rampage. Zenon’s not going to storm down the hall, screaming like some low-level henchman caught in a tantrum. This is a hunt, a cold, methodical execution where Dante is the prey, and Zenon is Death with a bone to pick. Because in Zenon’s world, harming you is a cardinal sin, punishable by, well... death. Family ties? Irrelevant. Brotherly bonds? Not like that ever existed in the first place. Dante didn’t just cross a line; he set the whole dang map on fire.

Don’t think Zenon is going to play fair or drag this out. He’s not the “monologue and let the bad guy escape” type. He’s the “I’m going to remove you from existence before you even register what’s happening” type. Dante is powerful, sure, but Zenon’s on a mission fueled by obsession, betrayal, and a smoldering, controlled fury. If you’re worried Zenon might not win this? Don’t be. Dante’s facing a man who’s decided that brother or not, you messed with his world. And Zenon doesn’t just plan for victory—he guarantees it.

Zenon’s attacks are like clockwork: precise, merciless, and unforgiving. Each blow he lands isn’t just a strike—it’s a declaration of betrayal avenged, a reminder to Dante of just how far he crossed the line. Zenon doesn’t waste his breath on dramatic speeches or curses. No, his silence is deafening, a silent promise that words would only cheapen what he intends to do. The only sound between them is the sharp clash of their power, punctuated by the chilling realization that Zenon isn’t here for a fight; he’s here for an execution.

Dante, in his typical fashion, tries to laugh it off, throwing taunts like they’re worth more than the air he’s wasting. But Zenon? He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t react. Dante’s bravado falls flat, lost in the shadow of Zenon’s ice-cold, calculating expression. A face so still, so controlled, it could freeze the blood of anyone foolish enough to witness the carnage. The fight itself is brutal, a display of Zenon’s sheer depth of possessiveness and hatred, honed to a deadly edge. When the final blow comes, it’s swift and final, a moment so silent it almost echoes.

He emerges victorious, a grim conqueror of a battle that wasn’t just personal—it was sacred. But here’s the thing: victory doesn’t taste like anything at all. Not when he returns to you and finds your eyes as distant and cold as the deepest, most unfeeling void.

The sight of you, numb to the core, eats at Zenon in ways no physical wound ever could. He hides it well, of course. That’s what he does best—keeping his pain locked up so tight it would take a miracle to crack him open. But the reality is, seeing you so lost, so detached, shatters whatever satisfaction he could have drawn from avenging you. He knows he can’t force a reaction; demanding you to feel again would only be another cruelty added to the list of things you never deserved. So, he waits, resigned to the idea that your trust, your warmth, might never come back to him. That he might have won the battle, but lost the war for your heart.

But Zenon is nothing if not relentless. The yandere in him, that twisted, obsessive part, doesn’t mind waiting. If all he can do is dedicate his life to protecting you from the distance, even if you stay cold and unreachable forever, then so be it. He will guard you, care for you, and devote himself to you, even if it means living with the torment of knowing that redemption is out of reach. Because for Zenon, loving you—even from afar—is a battle he’ll keep fighting, whether or not you ever feel again.

Although you’re now as emotionally numb as a frozen fish stick, Zenon’s trust in you skyrockets. Why? Because nothing screams loyalty louder than surviving Dante’s twisted schemes while staying faithful to the guy who basically invented stone-cold silence as a personality trait. So congrats—if Zenon’s trust was a vault before, it’s now a fortress with “No Trespassing” signs aimed at everyone except you. Gone are the days of cold punishments and harsh treatment. Turns out, finding out that your brother is the villain of the century makes Zenon reevaluate his methods faster than you can say, “Therapy, maybe?”

Now, Zenon knows you’re numb, probably for good, but that doesn’t mean he’s planning to make it worse. In fact, punishing you is out of the question now. He won’t say it—because if Zenon admitting fault out loud isn’t the eighth wonder of the world, I don’t know what is—but he realizes his old ways of dealing with his feelings won’t exactly be much to help you feel again, you know?

So he tries to reach out. Tries being the keyword here. He approaches cautiously, as if you’re a wild animal that might bolt, or worse, give him that blank, thousand-yard stare. Zenon doesn’t do verbal apologies—why use words when glaring and brooding have always worked just fine? Instead, he goes for subtle actions. He starts taking care of you like a silent, overbearing butler, appearing out of nowhere to make sure you’re fed, warm, and alive. You didn’t ask for any of this and definitely don’t react, but that doesn’t stop him.

Need a blanket? It’s already on you before you even shiver. Water? Magically appears on your nightstand, as if hydration is suddenly Zenon’s personal crusade. He watches over you with a sort of quiet devotion that would be almost romantic if it weren’t so intensely unsettling. But, hey, romantic or not, he’s attentive. Is he creepy? Maybe. But he’s there, and he’s not going anywhere. Even if all he’s met with are your blank stares and silence, Zenon is prepared to keep trying, his version of an apology more action-based than a dozen heartfelt “I’m sorries” ever could be. Because while you might be numb, he’s going to make sure you’re not alone in that.

If Zenon was obsessed before, now it’s like he’s taken his fixation and turned it into a full-time job—complete with unpaid overtime and zero vacation days. He devotes himself to silent acts of penance, the kind that would make a monk say, “Take a day off, man.” He sits by your side, sometimes for hours, not saying a word, his usually cold eyes softer but more haunted, as if hoping his mere presence can stitch up the deep wounds that words can’t touch. It’s like he’s trying to will the shattered pieces of your spirit back together, one silent moment at a time.

Zenon’s aware that what Dante did left emotional scars so deep that even time itself might throw up its hands and say, “Sorry, this one’s beyond me.” But that doesn’t stop him. No, Zenon becomes obsessed with coaxing even the tiniest spark of emotion from you. A flinch, a sigh, even a glance that doesn’t feel like it’s staring straight through him—it would all mean progress to him. It’s an all-consuming mission, and he approaches it with the same deadly focus he uses in battle, only now, his enemy isn’t a person; it’s the void that’s swallowed you whole.

If it takes the rest of his life, so be it. Zenon’s not exactly the type to quit, and the idea of you staying numb, an unresponsive shell of the person you once were, gnaws at him—surprisingly. So he keeps trying, meticulously and obsessively. Because somewhere in the depths of his fractured, intense devotion, he believes that if anyone can reach you again, it’s him. And if it means spending the rest of his life searching for that lost light in your eyes? Well, Zenon figures he’s got time. Plenty of it. After all, he’s already given you his heart—what’s a lifetime in comparison?