#also i didn't JUST notice it i noticed it the other night but i tested it last i fought them but they seem to Only have their jaw hanging

[luvsavos]

for how mentally ill i am about monster hunter and shara ishvalda specifically i sure am always noticing new things about them

[unproduciblesmackdown]

spent the evening reading through all of the like galley pdf copy of the 2 trans 2 furious zine and a great time start to finish like it was Not an effort to keep at it despite its being like 160 pgs. and despite my not having ever seen a f&f movie or really especially directly "correctly" being interested, though i'd ofc love to see any of the films like live & in person w/a bunch of trans strangers, say

laughed and teared up multiple times and thought about how impressive and creative entries were and like, the momentum was easy, everything was engaging and intriguing and invigorating and enriching....and Printed Editions (that ship to US & canada) are still available for pre-order, for about another week (also the window given for us going over the digital copy for edits/corrections lol) soooo. again i like haven't seen any f&f movies, and that didn't impede anything at all, and it was a fantastic time:

and another reason i'm like Oh My God So Appropriate To Have Sent In An Entry is how, like, it's all transformative fun and serious yet not somber Media Analysis on media you don't have to have actually even seen, or "like" straightforwardly, or at all, or be the "correct" audience for, or have an "intended" interpretation, lol, lmao....like this is Extremely our shit out here lol, what one is up to all the time in the world of Billions Series Analysis like, personally haven't even seen it, i'm not cishet enough to be the intended audience or otherwise sharing various particular assumed perspectives that are occasionally required to even parse, much less enjoy, some material....and yet!!

and like, if there was an all-autistic contributor's fun fan media analysis / commentary / parody / exploration / transformation / etc zine about billions? it'd be like wow how exactly me, and yet ofc i'd be at way more of a loss at what to scream abt winnie, perhaps ft. & tay, and the overall [billions]ing, much less how to actually execute that lol. it was easier to do a Very 101 Intro To: Cam Stone Exists Btw, nonbinarily, in that i limited myself to One Page so i could actually feasibly get it done, but in doing so i, as expected, could only say a fraction of what i could say about cam, were i explaining things in full / just unleashed, and skim the surface but just go "they exist btw and here's a tiny bit of further 101 info." it's not like, An Issue, b/c i don't think the [everything] that i could say would work great in full, and i can't write a great little short form piece of text about them (or winston, or anything else)....but it was also like, well if a trans f&f zine Doesn't have the trans f&f character in it then what are we doing, and We Know Of Cam Stone, so the most feasible [handing out a flyer] version of telling ppl they exist has gotta be done

and it's like, it's (relatively?) matter of fact to this end of only having so much room to put in words, and definitely ending up having to squeeze lines in vs struggling to fill the space. it could've been weirder, or funnier, or hornier, but it successfully exists and maybe it's a little weird, funny, and horny (drew an Especially [ooh sexy cam stone]-tinged pic lol) and whatever is difficult for me to perceive abt my own personality infusion in whatever, like how i have to be reminded like oh right, my Art Style, the way that Eye draw lol....and of course, i can't and don't expect my one page informative crash course intro to cam stone to be able to be Everything, any more than years' worth of lots of [winston billions] material in various formats of various extensiveness from various angles has been Everything. and the zine as a whole can't be Everything but it is, in fact, So Much abt So Many Things from so many different approaches. i enjoyed everything, especially like, "An Ode to X" as in fast x, which evolves into "x" as an (implicitly nonbinary) in-universe character and i was Moved and teared up, and i see it immediately follows "Jason Statham Will Call My Dad A Pussy In Fast 12" which moved me and made me tear up, which follows an entry that's a haiku about each film, none of which i've seen, which i didn't get misty about of course but was fully engaged with and enjoys, which follows my entry

there's naturally plenty about roads and horizons and racing and speed and i'm also like, i'm a gay who can drive, and i can feel it re: the trans contributor whose entry mine follows which is about their irl experiences driving in a demolition derby, inspired by f&f. and i can feel it re: enjoying f&f beyond how you're "supposed" to, or how you would in a cishet(tm) way, and how so many of these entries had resonance, and that intrigue and engagement, and lenses on where to find explorations of gendering which will kind of Have to come up whenever anything succeeds in approaching things that are genuine and really truly more To Life, even while the point of f&f is not to be "realistic," especially about, you know, the driving and what you can do with cars, which i fully appreciate and definitely understood more for cam stone being in a story ramming through a wall outracing an avalanche hacking cop cars and defusing bombs and ramping over bucket wheel mining excavators and being swept out of the way of a train that was going full speed but silent until like 0.05 sec ago when it also burst through a wall or something? and whomever all is involved with racing like a rocket launch fr. and having fun, being yourself, and killing people, hell yeah

and like, the [this is like my autistic ass out here laser pointing at winston billions as autistic and having that lens on this media that doesn't intend it or directly invoke it] relevance also Of Course in that, through kompenso, that is where it is like yes as i have that personal symposium of ongoing compounding unfolding branching distilling consideration, analysis, appreciation, transformation, etc going on, so too does my colleague as the world's preeminent tayficionado, which is where they looked into akd's oeuvre and found the cam stone material, and passed it on to me, then passed on the [zine call for trans f&f contributions], So

and that, just like as is also found crucially in kompenso / the then preexisting & all eventually following winnie n tay material, there's that Autistic and Trans resonance. some particular quotes from this zine were especially like, oh, pointing, pointing...."Thirty minutes into my visit, I suddenly just didn’t want to be there anymore. I didn’t feel angry, not really very sad at all either. I just longed to be elsewhere. A different place, with different people, within a different moment. And then every cell in my body pleaded to not feel that way in all of my moments, in every group of people, in all places." ....[from a poem, ft. formatting thusly:] "It made me feel important, kind of? Like, more present? Like people talked about me a lot but never exactly about ME, if you know what I mean. I mean, of course sometimes I could feel something inside of me. A sneaking or, like, a skittering. I just kind of figured everyone feels that sometimes, like really deep down, right? It’s just that no one really talks about it, you know. That’s what I figured." ....[from a section of a contribution w/the context of the author not yet knowing that they're trans]: "but he was familiar and didn’t make me think too critically about much in the world, especially myself, especially as he never seemed too interested to ask me about me—not that I would’ve had much insight to share at the time beyond “please do not think too deeply about how I am.”"; and then, w/the context that they do realize, and have expressed, that they're trans: "but I was still learning about the concept of mattering, so I didn’t push the issue of basic respect at the time." ....from another submission, that is Sooo: "maybe i am transing Fast and Furious just by loving it" ...."Discovering, loving, and sharing this franchise (and myself) with others has been such a wildly different experience—maybe even the opposite experience—than self-policing myself into who I thought I should be. It’s nourishing, welcoming—an open invitation to learn and grow rather than an ongoing test to constantly worry about failing."

an ongoing test to constantly worry about failing....here ofc a parallel to Gendering, and, ofc, the autistic & trans [handshake] and resonance, to Autisting....i resonated with plenty, genderingly, but this wasn't a surprise or even like, my focus, and of course not all the entries themselves Textually mention [gendering], but it's like, a trans space in a zine lol, a baseline of that understanding and perspective, vs having to be actively looking. nonzero textual neurodivergence mentions, too, and other lenses of ways to be Othered / non normative, like race, nationality, religion. the overarching, Constant [omg sooo me] resonance is that of like, having this foundation of refusing Limits, of approaching a Rich Text a hundred different ways, w/different tones, and different formats, and different experiences and ideas explored. you don't need the source material to acknowledge any noncishet people textually exist (to be understood by noncishet audiences), or to be deemed Good, or Enjoyed, or your entry to be proffered as like, correct and definitive rather than One exploration you could offer up, amongst many offered by many others who could say more, again, differently....i've been like, balancing excitement for having this contribution, and its being like ooh fancy lol this is the one time i can say i have (non self-)published work, and it'll be Out There, and (including all contributors' gifted copies) apparently that ft. abt a thousand printed copies atm, and the digital distribution option hasn't happened yet....along with, like, it can't even be my comprehensive, definitive [cam stone exists btw] theoretical Ideal Entry lol b/c that would not be feasible for me to make or to be put into a zine. knowing i have Points on my side for it being crucially relevant lore (and the competition being hotter for the small form text entries, though there's other illustrations, comics, collages, edits, etc) like, yeah the strength of this isn't in its being as weird or funny or horny as anything could be, lol....but my Personality is embedded in it as per like, see: how that Journey of relevant interests and enthusiasms and engagements and perspectives and weirder, hornier, more extensive and varied works led up to and contribute to this piece's existence (such as, years of drawing winston 9000 times being part of how my drawing looked in march, when i made the cam stone piece)

and like, in not seeing everything as a test to fail, in seeing [when are you seeing things as that test to fail], &/or similarly/overlappingly seeing [when are you seeing things as a test to Prove Value to others or something and achieve person status in their eyes b/c of it] like, lol, i hope a thousand plus ppl learn cam stone exists, and it'd be fun if they enjoy that process. put in little floaty hearts as flair, just as i often do, b/c by now i just Know and Embrace that i do. and i'm not like "i hope everyone ever is blown away" b/c why would they be lol, and that's fine. like how even in [i just say some shit abt winston billions, and ofc abt myself and my experiences / perspectives through winston billions while knowing that's not what's "meant" out here probably maybe though put me through to will roland, yknow...] i'm like oh don't be thinking abt proving your value w/this specific oeuvre lol like. anyone Caring as validation like, it's too late by now, i like people liking shit and getting anything out of it but it's like, i'm doing my thing, i'm having a specific ass symposium abt quantent and billionsing "wrong" that eye enjoy, i enjoy getting any feedback/attention on shit i put out there in case ppl wanna partake, i don't enjoy any/all of it in any/all ways just so long as it's Anything, yknow. like same with interactions/attention on Me as an autistic person who actually exists, lol. speaking being exhausting when it's ppl saying shit At me, would-be "positive" attention that's from someone like deciding what i'm like or what i'm communicating and wanting something from me, that shared discussion Abt something can only be a gateway into like "normal" exchanges to "normally" socialize, finding that pattern of not being worth effort unless it's effort that gets something out of hurting you / thwarting you; all versus: i have plenty of expertise knowing myself vs needing feedback, i like doing my thing, i like doing my thing Alongside others, probably strangers, within a certain context, like being cooped up at college and socially recharging by going ""alone"" to the coffeeshop down the block, while going "with" people would generally be a mixed bag if not disheartening to even distressing. which, here i am, doing my little thing alongside strangers in this context of transgendering and fun and serious but not not funny and varying and daring and earnest materials exploring something that's about anything or everything or nothing, and not made for You, but here you are anyways, as you always have been

anyways, that is to say, like, perfect that it's turned out so like "yeah you don't need to have seen the movies even" and such enriching Reflections and like, so different and yet cohesive without needing to like, painstakingly group or order things to create some Connections, they're all there, and i'm like damn yeah cam's quarter-mile V neck, so fucking true. and i'm like, this is so Me, without having to be like, "and that is b/c i have put Me on the page, in full, with utmost success, and Everyone Will Love It (Me)" lol, which was not like, a danger, but that's through all the years of going [everything is a test i'm failing / can fail at any moment] and yknow, even up to recently and this very moment wrangling with and realizing things like, hand on shoulder are you looking to "earn" some estimation of Value in others' eyes that they can only choose to give by seeing everyone as a fellow person w/inherent value who deserves basic respect. like the mortality mondays that ramped up since late january, but also since '09, but also since like forever in different forms, and back when first discovering billions and, for like the only time while we've been watching, Knowing when everything in a season will air, but also not thinking i'd get to see it, and now in a similar boat, but different (having done "nothing" on paper over the years but like, been Realizing Things, been powering up, been assigning the Value to myself and Understanding myself & my experiences further. and also other things that you Could put on paper, but yknow), and like, it's still about [grr let me see billions through, even though i don't even see billions] and still about [!!!] despite it all and things that are "unserious" and also not and who needs like a certain kind of validation from enough of certain kinds of people

anyways, the autistique resonance within it, and in the process of reading it, and having our specific path to sending something in, and making it. it's an excellent ride and it's very epic that it exists so consider that print copy preorder if you want (plus the intended eventual digital distribution option, not yet available)

[neocrias]

diet pepsi - kim mingyu

synopsis: When a ride home becomes something much more... interesting.

Your interactions with Mingyu have been getting weird during the last group meeting. There’s a certain tension in every kindness he does for you—it could be you overanalyzing friendly acts, or maybe Kim Mingyu wants you as much as you want him.

pairing: mingyu x reader wc: 3,6k

warnings: unprotected sex; kinda public car sex; dry humping; figering (f receiving); cock riding; mingyu is a teasing little shit; very slightly size kink; mentions of alcohol; inappropriate language. MDNI.

You don't know when you started feeling this way about Mingyu, but lately he's been... different. He's hot, but you already knew that. Everybody did.

Mingyu is tall, tanned, has a charming smile and beautiful sparkling eyes that goes along with the sweet and patient personality he always has when he's with you and the boys. But something is different.

You don't know what happened, but Mingyu's every attitude seemed different tonight and what would normally be “your friend's caring and concerned way” was making you crave his attention in a way you've never felt before.

You felt your face heat up when he took the beer bottle from your hand and, before you could even try, Mingyu opened it and filled your glass, extending his arm towards you. When you hesitantly held the glass and your fingers touched briefly, Mingyu winked at you playfully and a shiver ran through your whole body.

This went on all night.

Mingyu carefully roasted the piece of meat you like best until it was just right for you. He also reached out to slap Vernon's hands away before he could snatch it from the grill, his muscles bulging under the sleeves of his black shirt right next to your face.

And, of course, you wanted to kiss him the moment he put his denim jacket over your lap to protect you from the cold without complaining – even though he told you to wear warm clothes tonight because of the weather.

— Gyu, you don't have to...

He cut you off before you could be the proud little thing who never gives in even though you know you're wrong.

— Don't be stubborn again. I told you it was gonna be cold and you still came in this tiny dress, at least keep the jacket. — He whispered, a perfectly balanced mix of seriousness and care. For emphasis, he tugged at the thin sleeves of your white dress, which didn't fit to keep out the cold.

Blame it on the drink;

Blame it on the several months you've gone without seeing anyone;

Blame Jeonghan for implanting indecent ideas in your head with his provocative comments about the way Mingyu always stood around you and looked at you;

Blame the smell of him surrounding you and inhibiting your senses in the enclosed space of the black range rover, or the way he drove with only one hand...

Blame anything, but you wanted him.

You felt your head spin the moment Mingyu said he would take you home, not letting anyone think of any other possibility during the carpool. And that was like a confirmation of everything a certain angel-faced devil had told you earlier.

You put on his dark denim jacket, sinking into the smell of his perfume that lingered on your clothes and biting your lips anxiously, an involuntary reaction to the scenarios you'd imagined and, to prevent your mind from continuing to go to places forbidden by “friend status”, you grabbed a can of Diet Pepsi before heading towards the car. 

Of course, you also had to deal with the feeling of disappointment silently when you found Dokyeom and Minghao waiting in the back seat. “Jeonghan, you're paying me for this!”, you thought after fastening your seatbelt. 

Mingyu smiled at you as he started the car, making his way to Dokyeom's house first - which was closer to the restaurant you were in. Eventually, you opened the can of Pepsi to distract yourself from the conflicting feelings you'd been having all night.

You didn't know it, but Mingyu noticed your strange behavior and, wanting to test whether his theory was right, he ignored the route to your house, deciding to leave Minghao first and then - by pure chance of fate - take the long way home.

He didn't stop there. Mingyu knew you were looking at him and purposely let go of one of your hands from the steering wheel, ran his fingers through his black hair to make it look messy as it fell over his eyes and, finally, grabbed the gearshift - as close to your thigh as possible, after all, Mingyu wanted to see how you reacted to him.

Of course, every glance was noticed, as was the intense way you stared at his hand holding the steering wheel. Mingyu could have sworn he saw you squeeze your thighs together a time or two when he made a skillful turn.

You started to shake your leg out of anxiety and seeing the perfect opportunity, Mingyu held your thighs in a firm grip to keep them still. The truth was that it didn't bother him at all, but he wouldn't miss the opportunity to put his hands on your thighs after so long watching them with desire.

He smirked arrogantly as he heard you sigh and struggle to keep still, muscles twitching uncontrollably under the palm of his hands. His eyes remained on the road, but they had a lustful glint behind the brown tenderness that Mingyu usually directed at you.

In your haze of thoughts, you didn't notice that the road to your house was taking longer than usual or that you had passed the same street three times. You also ignored the playful and arrogant expression that Mingyu wore, in fact, you didn't even look at his face as you were focused on the extraordinary way the veins stood out on the golden skin of his forearm and his thick thighs that were deliciously marked by his jeans.

The thin gold chain reflected the dim light of the streetlamps, shining through the collar of the black shirt that also highlighted the biceps carefully built up with regular routines in the gym, but just enough for the imagination. Kim Mingyu was dressed so casually and still managed to be sinfully handsome. Him wearing a black shirt so tight against his arms and chest should be considered a crime against public safety and you, feeling your neck heat up, pulled your hair up and leaned back in your seat to look at his face from a better angle.

 And the look in your eyes...

Mingyu felt his patience fading. He pushed his tongue against his cheek to control himself, squeezing the gearshift until his fingers turned white. And then your eyes went to his face, your rosy lips were slightly open, your shoulders barely moving because of the shallow breathing and the typical doe eyes that blinked heavily at him, scanning every birthmark he had on his chiseled face.

He was tired of overthinking what kind of game you were playing now.

Slowly, Mingyu pulled the car over as soon as you turned into a discreet, quiet - partly dark - street and, as if a mist was coming out of the front of your eyes, you came back to reality as you felt the car stop and looked out of the window. It wasn't your house and you were even more confused when you heard the car's engine stop.

You turned to Mingyu who was taking the key out of the ignition.

— What are you doing? — you asked, but Mingyu didn't answer. — Why did you stop here?

He continued without answering, Mingyu didn't even look at you. Still facing forward, he just unbuckled your thigh to open his own seat belt and moved the seat back very slowly. Your eyes widened in surprise, confusion and... anticipation.

You focused your attention on the sliding seat, returning to stare at Mingyu's thick thighs, and clamped your lower lip between your teeth. By the time you raised your eyes to Mingyu's face again, he was already looking at you with a naughty, arrogant grin and his head tilted slightly to one side.

— Having fun? — He asked arrogantly and you blinked rapidly, feeling confused and overwhelmed.

“Maybe I shouldn't have drunk so much,” you thought.

Mingyu leaned over you, knocking you backwards. Your back slammed against the car door and you held your breath, not wanting to make any movement or comment that would break the tension that bubbled deliciously under your skin. Your eyes were locked on Mingyu's, and you couldn't take your eyes off them for a second.

The sound of your belt opening made you blink repeatedly once more and let out an anxious sigh - which, in turn, made Mingyu even more confident.

He rested his left hand on the tinted car window and brought his right hand up to your neck, wrapping his hand around your throat and subtly pulling you forward. You let out a pained grunt and close your eyes as you felt his nose brush against yours, both breaths mingling.

His thumb moved slowly against your skin and your lips touched quickly as he moved his head. You were going crazy and he was doing it on purpose, after all, watching you need him was more fun than Mingyu could have imagined.

— Gyu… — You called softly. A heavy, needy whisper that complemented the hushed atmosphere that enveloped the two of you. He was so close that you could smell the beer and mint gum he was chewing earlier. You shifted uncomfortably against the leather seat, wanting to get rid of the feeling of unease that ran through your whole body.

— Hm? — was all Mingyu replied.

You brought your trembling hands up to his shoulders, sliding them slowly under the collar of his shirt, feeling the warm skin against your icy palms and the defined muscles under your fingertips. You slid down to the nape of his neck, making a point of dragging your nails lightly along the way in a phantom touch that Mingyu reciprocated by squeezing your neck a little tighter. 

With a sigh you pressed your nails against his neck, marking his honey skin with red scratches and pulled the gold chain into a closed fist. Mingyu finally crashed his lips against yours in a strong, needy kiss.

An involuntary moan of satisfaction escaped your throat as you felt his tongue making its way into your mouth, the soft muscle crashing deliciously against yours, and Mingyu released your neck to wrap his arm around your waist, pulling you against him so that you rode his lap.

It wasn't the most comfortable position even though the car was large, but 'comfort' wasn't a concern for him at the moment and even less so for you.

Still with trembling, hurried hands, you slipped them under his black shirt, dragging your nails across the length of Mingyu's abdomen, leaving more red marks across his immaculate skin. Your fingers stopped against the waistband of his jeans, unsure of what to do now.

Despite (trying) to be a confident person most of the time, you weren't the most experienced person when it came to boys. Minghao and Seungcheol tried hard to keep them away from you - after all, no guy was good enough for their best friend.

Mingyu, who had both arms around your waist now, pressing you against him, moved his hands down to your bare thighs, his fingertips trailing along the length that the slit didn't make a point of covering and - for the thousandth time tonight - your skin shivered at his touch.

Suddenly he grabbed both sides of your hips, pulling you forward and pressing you down against him, and you broke away from him with a gasp of surprise. You were both breathing heavily, your eyes closed and your foreheads pressed together. Mingyu brought his hand up to the collar of your jacket, gently pushing it back, his fingertips leaving a ghostly touch on the skin of your shoulder, exposed by the square neckline.

He removed the jacket from your body slowly, he was in no hurry at all and, now that there was nothing else in the way, Mingyu began to trail kisses and bites down the length of your jaw, neck and collarbones, marking your skin as you did with him and you answer by pressing your hips against his.

With an impulse of confidence you moved your waist, a slight and insecure movement at first, but one that made Mingyu sigh against the sensitive skin of your neck and increase the tightness against your skin - leaving marks that would turn red later. Mingyu's reactions were what you needed to keep going and you swivel your hips harder, making him throw his head back against the car seat.

Clumsily, you pulled up his shirt, trying to undress him, and Mingyu smiled even more arrogantly when he saw you fumble. He moved his hands away and pulled up his shirt and your eyes went down to his defined abdomen, measuring it completely.

His eyes darkened when he saw you biting your lips with glassy eyes. You brought your hands up to his shoulders, Mingyu was huge and very well built - unconsciously you thanked him for his dedication to the gym. He slid his hands under your dress, now squeezing the skin of your hips and waist with nothing to stop him.

You wrapped your index finger around the gold chain and pulled him forward, kissing him again, again, again and again and as many times as you wanted, you couldn't stop yourself.

You were so focused on the kiss, on moving your waist in just the right way to get all his reactions and whimpers, on the warm, soft skin against the palm of your hands, on the smell of him that intoxicated you, that you didn't miss his hands on your waist, and you weren't even surprised when the seat came down all at once, making you fall on top of him.

— What are you planning, Kim Mingyu? — you managed to ask between kisses and heavy sighs.

— You'll find out — he murmured against your lips. — And you'll love every second of it.

You felt your legs tremble and you rolled against him even harder, making him whimper softly and bite your lips hard. Mingyu stopped your hips, pushing you down a little just enough to unzip his pants and take out his cock that stood proudly up to his hips.

His red tip was shining from pre-cum, the veins that stood out on the skin, making you clench around nothing.

Mingyu moved his hand down your dress again, his fingertips slowly dragging over the thin fabric of your panties, teasing you.

— Gyu... — you whimpered.

— Tell me — he muttered against your mouth. — You need to tell me, pretty.

He enjoyed being a little teasing shit, finding fun in the way you react and your body trembles to his touches. Mingyu slides your panties to the side, his finger finally making contact to your clit.

— Please — you tried again, refusing to say it out loud. 

— Nuh uh, baby, you need to say it.

— Gyu, please… — you started, but failed again.

— Poor little girl, can’t even use her words… — he teased you.

— Kim Mingyu, I swear to God if you… — your words were cut off by a groan when he slid his middle finger into your wet cunt.

Mingyu smirked when saw you struggling with your words again, just because of him. It's a complete ego booster for sure.

— If I..? — he suggested, provoking you again. — Come on, baby, what are you gonna do? 

He slid a second finger, bending them to hit that specific spot that makes you tremble and gasp in his ears because of the stretch. You leaned forward, resting your hands on his chest and hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

You feel a knot forming in your low stomach and bite his shoulder to relieve some of the feeling, moving your hips by your own, chasing it.

Your whimpers became louder and more frequent and Mingyu took this as an incentive to go faster, always aiming for that spot that made you react the way he liked the most.

Sequenced moans of his name left your lips and you dug your nails harder into his shoulders. Involuntarily squirming to escape the overwhelming sensation that you were experiencing. And at the same time that you wanted Mingyu to continue, it was becoming too much.

You hold Mingyu’s wrist, trying to stop him, but it only makes him go harder on you. His free hand, grabbing your hips to make you quiet.

— Shh — he whispered into your ear. — It's ok, pretty, let it go.

Mingyu was slowly edging you to your high. His fingertips brushing against your soft walls plus his sweet voice praising you makes your toes curl. His actions turn all too much to handle and you feel losing yourself.

— That's it, baby, cum for me.

And you came, his name leaving your mouth as a chant, while your body grows even hotter. Mingyu continued moving his fingers, slower this time to help you come down from your high. He left several kisses on your shoulders, and caressed your back until your breathing regulated again.

You push his arms down, breathing heavily with your foreheads close to each other.

Mingyu began to caress your thighs to calm you down, kissing your lips tenderly, moving down to your chest and collarbones. In a burst of courage, you sat on him, still not sliding in, just an attempt to tease him the same way he did to you before.

He moans your name in response, a smug smirk adoring his lips and his hooded eyes staring directly at you in pure desire. — Stop the teasing, baby. — He said.

You grabbed his cock aligning him to your cunt. You went down slowly, holding your breath as you felt him open you inch by inch. His hands grabbed your hips harder, pushing you down to help you keep moving. 

— Fuck… — He groaned when he reached the bottom. Despite the urgency Mingyu felt to move, he remained still so you could adjust to his size.

You whimpered in discomfort, not being used to his size, but somehow the initial stretch was kinda pleasant. The caress Mingyu gave your back and the little kisses he left on your shoulders were enough to calm you down a little and, still a bit insecure, you raised your hips, waited a little trying to prepare yourself emotionally, and lowered yourself again slowly.

Mingyu squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip hard. He wanted to take things at his own pace, so you would be comfortable, so you would enjoy it too, but you looked so beautiful and angelic in that short white dress and your frowning face that his inner self roared with the need to destroy you.

He wanted to take control, pin you against the leather seat and watch fat tears roll down your face, destroying your makeup with black mascara stains. You sped up little by little, gaining confidence as you moved, but it still wasn't enough and your thighs burned from the effort. You tried to keep going, wanting to get more grunts and moans out of Mingyu, but something was missing and so you stopped, hiding your face in his neck out of embarrassment.

— What happened? — he asked you, stroking your hair to comfort you.

— Tired… — you muttered. After a few seconds of silence you heard him laugh.

— Spoiled princess wants me to do all the work? — He asked you again, his voice dripping in a condescending tone.

— Please — you beg.

He blinked in astonishment, taken aback by you. His eyes darkened and he thrust his tongue against his cheek. — Move to the backseat!

You do as he says, moving to the back of the large car. Mingyu skillfully takes the seat again, pushing it closer to the steering wheel and gets out, walking around the car to the back seat. You lean your back against the door opposite the one Mingyu came in through, biting your lip in excitement.

He grabs your ankle, pulling you down. You slide into the seat, now lying on your back as Mingyu towers over you with all his splendor and size and you feel so small next to him — he has that effect on people.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down so you can kiss him again and circling his waist with your legs. Mingyu can only think about how you're going to be the death of him, but that moment doesn't last long as he's thrusting into you again. You moan louder, feeling him deeper than before.

The exchange of intense looks, foreheads colliding and the sloppy kisses constantly interrupted by sighs and moans add something more, intensifying all the feelings. His scent is surrounding you, making you dizzy and confused and Mingyu thrusts harder when he feels you scratch his back.

— More —you asked and Mingyu happily complied with your whining.

He holds your thigh, placing it above his shoulders, resting one of his arms on the window glass for support, going even deeper. You feel your high coming for the second time that night and involuntarily tighten around him, making him grunt and go harder.

You scratched his back, cumming again.

This time Mingyu followed you, spilling his cum inside you. The feeling was overwhelming, something you had never felt before and didn't imagine experiencing so soon, even less not being in a relationship with this person, but when it came to Mingyu everything felt so right.

— What are we now? — maybe you were reading the situation wrong and this was nothing more than a casual hookup, a one night thing, but you couldn’t help to feel your heart drop at this possibility.

— I’ll take you on a date — he answered simply.

— I think you reversed some steps — you joke, eliciting a breathy laugh from him.

Mingyu slid out slowly, but you still shivered in sensitivity. To reward him, he left several little kisses on your face.

— Maybe, but I’ll do it right this time. — He said. — Let’s get cleaned up and take you home.

You mumble in agreement, too tired to even respond and, unwillingly, you drag yourself back to the front seat. Mingyu leans towards you, fastening your seatbelt before leaving one last slow and deep kiss on your lips, one that you gladly return.

[sailortongue]

Lima Bean

pairing: kenji sato x reader

summary: kenji makes his intentions clear and a certain reporter is a little too committed to his job

an: ik the title is kinda dumb but bear with me i have an idea (title is still subject to change if the idea falls through). also tags are being kind of silly and I don't know how to get them to act right so if you asked to be tagged but didn't get notified I swear I tried 😭

wc: 2k

navi | prev | series mlist

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“I’m pregnant.”

Those two words changed Kenji’s entire demeanor in seconds. His face dropped and his jaw hung open in complete disbelief. “. . . Are you sure?” He asked. 

“Positive test, missed period, morning sickness,” you listed off. “I’m going to make an OBGYN appointment anyway just to be 100% sure, but so far yeah I’m pretty sure.”

“Ah,” was all he could say in response, his mind both blank and racing at the same time. Had he really not used protection? Was he that drunk? He tried to think back to that night, but all he could seem to remember was a flash of you under him and his lips on your neck. His face immediately flushed scarlet. 

“Are you angry?” You asked, noticing the rapid shift in his complexion. 

He rushed to deny your assumption. “No! No, nothing like that. I'm just . . . not sure what to make of this.”

“I know how you feel,” you said wryly. “Just thought you should know, I guess.” You shrugged your shoulders, feeling almost hollow inside with the knowledge that your life was about to undergo a drastic change.

“I appreciate it, thank you. If you don’t mind, uh,” he hesitated, searching for the right words. “I'd like to be present. To be a father.” He thought back to when he took care of Emi and how much he came to love her. He was confident in his ability to take care of his own biological child, even if these weren’t the circumstances in which he imagined he’d have one. 

You looked at him as if you were meeting him for the very first time, entirely taken aback by his willingness to step up. Truthfully you'd expected him to deny any responsibility, but there he was, asking to raise the baby alongside you—to step up to the metaphorical plate and be a dad. “Really? And you’re not going to leave at the first inconvenience?”

“No. You have my word on that.” His expression was one of utmost sincerity. “I want to be a dad. Granted, this isn’t how I expected it,” he laughed awkwardly, “but it’s how it happened, and I won't run away from it.”

You gave him a soft smile. “I'll be honest, I didn't expect you to be so noble.”

“Thought I’d tell you to get rid of it or just throw a check at you to never contact me again? I understand the concern, but I want to be there every step of the way.”

“Then, would you like to come with me for my appointment? I haven’t scheduled it yet but . . .” you trailed off, realizing you were asking a very busy man to take time out of his day to accompany you to a doctor's appointment. “Unless of course you’re busy or don’t want to,” you added quickly.

He laughed at how flustered you’d gotten. “I'll be there. No matter the weather, practice, or a game, I will be there. That’s my kid you’ve got in there after all,” he said with a broad grin on his face as he pointed to your abdomen. “And that takes priority over everything else.”

“Wow. You’re smitten with something that’s probably the size of a lima bean right now,” you teased.

“Woah now, that’s our lima bean and I’m going to be the best dad a bean could wish for,” he asserted, imagining teaching his future son or daughter to play baseball with him or helping with homework, even what it would be like to do his daughter’s hair, or perhaps teaching his son how to tie a tie.

He was snapped from his thoughts when you slid your phone towards him from across the table, the screen displaying a new contact. “If we're going to be coparenting we should have each other's numbers.”

He picked up the device to input his number and then checked his own phone. He showed you the screen, a message from your own number displayed there. 

It was only when he handed your phone back to you that you noticed how late it had already become. “Oh wow, I didn’t realize the time. I didn't mean to keep you so late,” you apologized. 

“No no, it’s fine. I'm glad you, or, Ami, I guess, insisted we have this conversation in person. Think if I had been told over text I’d still be sitting on the couch reading it over and over again,” he laughed. 

“That was how I felt looking at the test. It didn’t feel real.” You had a smile that mirrored his own, and you couldn’t believe how fortunate you were that Kenji wasn’t the douche you expected he’d be when he found out. Quite the opposite, to your pleasant surprise.

“Do you need a ride back home?” He asked earnestly, not quite ready to say bye. After all, you hadn’t  allowed him the chance the last time you had met. 

You shook your head as you stood from the table. “No, I drove here, but thanks anyway. I guess I'll keep in touch?”

He hummed in affirmation, standing from his chair, his impressive height towering over you. He gestured for you to walk first, following close behind you, his hand lightly pressed to your lower back as he walked with you to your car. While the two of you were wishing each other good night, another patron of the cafe was typing furiously into his phone, notifying his boss that he had just overheard the sport's world's juiciest scandal in months.

-❀-

The first thing you did the following day was schedule an appointment with an obstetrician. There had been a recent cancellation so you were able to get a slot in just a few days. You sent Kenji a text to notify him when and where, a small part of you looking forward to seeing him again. He responded quickly, saying he would definitely be there. 

When the day came, he called you to ask if you wanted to go together, rather than take two cars. You agreed and told him your address, choosing to wait for him inside due to the biting cold of December. When you heard a car pull up, you exited your home, and it took all of your willpower not to gawk at his car, which was probably worth more than your entire house. You saw the driver's door begin to open, and he stepped out, breathtakingly handsome as usual. He pushed his sunglasses on top of his head and waved, greeting you with a jovial “Morning!”

“Good morning, Kenji,” you returned, a smile gracing your features. 

As you approached the car, he slid back into the driver's seat and looked over at you, taking in the sight of the mother of his future child. He'd lain awake all night, playing with the idea over and over in his mind. He was really going to be a dad. How different could it be to raise a human baby if he’d already done so with a 20-foot-tall kaiju baby?

You noticed his gaze in your peripheral vision, but as you turned to look at him he snapped his attention forward and made himself busy with inputting the name of the doctor’s office you’d given him into the GPS. 

The ride was filled with pleasant small talk, asking each other how you had been since last time, basically avoiding the elephant in the room and talking about everything except the new life between you. After parking, he made sure to open the door to the office for you and entered after you, a rush of cold air enveloping you as you approached the front desk. You confirmed your appointment with the receptionist, and she directed the two of you to sit in the waiting room and told you your name would be called when the doctor was ready. 

As you were waiting, you noticed Kenji’s leg bouncing up and down rapidly, showing his nerves despite it not even being his appointment. You took the opportunity that had presented itself and placed your hand atop his knee. He looked over at you, his brown eyes wide and his lips pressed into a thin line. “You can wait in the car if you’d prefer—“

“No!” He all but shouted, refusing to let you believe for even one second that he would run out. “I said I would be here for you and I will,” he said adamantly, placing his hand over yours where it was still on his knee and squeezing tightly, a physical reassurance that we was staying put. 

“y/n l/n.” You heard your name called.  You and Kenji stood together, his hand not releasing yours. Instead, he rubbed calming circles on the skin as you were escorted into the patient rooms, though you weren’t entirely sure if it was meant to ease his nerves or yours. Either way, it was a sweet gesture.

-❀-

The gel was cold as it was spread across your exposed skin, sending shivers up your spine. A grainy black and white image showed up on the screen, and the doctor pointed to a small grey object depicted on it, surrounded by a sea of black. “This,” she started, “is the fetus.” You looked at the screen in awe before glancing over at Kenji. He was seated in a chair against the wall, his elbows braced on his knees as he leaned forward, his attention rapt on the screen and his lips open in a small “o” shape. 

The doctor chuckled at your amazed reactions. “Excited to be parents?” She asked.

You don’t think Kenji even heard her, so you answered. “To be totally honest, this was unexpected, but I think we can make it work. Kenji here made it very clear that he wants to be a dad.”

“That's wonderful to hear. Well, looking at the scan I'd say you’re about 7 weeks along and you can expect to welcome the baby around August 11. 

Kenji was practically bubbling as you each took your seats in the car, and he kept stealing glances at your tummy even if you weren’t showing any visible change yet. 

-❀-

These past few days of tailing the nation's sweetheart baseball player were so worth it, thought the man sitting in his car while browsing through the photos of Kenji Sato and a woman he’d never been seen with before entering and leaving an OBGYN facility together. Interesting. Very interesting. With those photos there was no denying that Kenji Sato, baseball heartthrob, was a soon-to-be father.

-❀-

Kenji put the car in park in your driveway. You made to get out of the car until he exclaimed “Wait!” You re-situated yourself on the seat, angling yourself towards him. He seemed almost at war with himself, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to actually say what had prompted him to stop you from leaving. “Would you, uh,” he faltered, chuckling awkwardly. “Would you like to go on a date with me?” He gave you a hopeful look. 

Heat flushed across your face and ears, and you beamed at him. “Doing things way out of order aren’t we?” You joked. 

He laughed mirthfully as well. “Way out of order,” he agreed. “So, was that a yes? To go out?”

“Yes, that was a yes,” you giggled, finding his eagerness endearingly sweet.

He nodded his head. “Ok. Ok, great. Are you free this Saturday? I'll pick you up?”

“I’ll see you then,” you agreed cheerfully, and, deciding to take another risk since you were doing things all out of order anyway, you leaned over and placed a quick peck against his cheek before hopping out of the car and waving goodbye. He continued to wait in the car until he saw you safely enter your home, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest and his face crimson red, one hand placed lightly against where your lips had touched his skin. 

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next

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taglist: @mochminnie @lovingyeet @sassy-cat-in-town @hanachiiii @aise-30 @reivelmin @fcheung750 @breaddippedinorangejuice @lunaryasha @imsimping4life @boomboom-tanjiro2019 @f1uveryysblog @random-3455 @b3e-sat0 @retaaaa56 @casualburning

[predestinatos]

you mean everything - MV1 ೀ⋆｡🌷

summary: max needed a wedding date and you were used to being his fake partner.

tags: max verstappen x fem!reader, fake dating, friends to lovers, max is so whipped, fluff, a bit angsty maybe?, mentions of alcohol

word count: 2k

notes: i've been writing (and thinking) so much about max... my period is coming please give me a break i'm sensitive. also would love to get some feedback if possible so i know if it's worth making a series out of this!!!!

"If you want to make it believable at least hold my hand" you half-whispered to Max, who was buttoning his blazer while getting out of the car, you behind him.

"Sorry, I'm not used to this with you" he said chuckling. His sweaty palm held yours tightly, and the feeling of it was odd. Knowing Max for so long meant that these romantic gestures felt almost cringeworthy to you both, and you both had to put up award winning performances every time you played this game.

The game in question being fake-dating. It started as a funny joke where you both thought it would be great to test out the Get A Champagne Bottle For Free At This Restaurant If You Propose theory (which worked, by the way). From then onwards, you used each other as dates whenever asked by annoying family members, creepy coworkers, or just because you felt like lying.

The talking wasn't hard - you both felt comfortable in that part, lying with words coming off almost dangerously natural - but when it came to acting the part, both of you felt awkward, like kids who found relationships absolutely repulsive.

This time, though, the performance would last longer than usual: it was a wedding. Max's friend's wedding. Max could've just gone along, or bring a friend (even you as a friend). Yet he had told his friend, after one too many shots on his Bachelor's Party, and after being chosen as The Guy Who'll Take the Longest to Settle, that he had, in fact, a girlfriend. His friends didn't believe him, so he showed a picture of you two together - a selfie really, nothing much. And they still said they didn't believe it. So here you are.

You couldn't blame him, even if you wanted to. You agreed to use each other as a fake partner for as long as you could in as many situations as required, although when it all started none of you ever thought it would lead to wedding attendances.

So now there you were, Max's hand on yours, entering the small church. His eyes locked with the groom, who waved and called for you to sit near the altar.

"So you ARE real" he said, nervousness laced in his voice even as he tried to lighten the mood himself. You giggled at the irony of it, nodding as you said your congratulations.

"Just wait until the guys see this" he continued gesturing towards the bench where 3 other men around his age sat. Men you had seen before in some Instagram pictures, men you spent the previous night trying to memorize basic information about so you didn't sound suspicious.

Max's hand now fell on your waist almost instinctively - it wasn't instinctively, he told himself once he noticed its positioning. And if it was, it was only because he took this so seriously, almost as a sort of method acting. Sitting down next to his friends, he noticed how all of them seemed surprised at your presence, and something like pride filled his chest. He loved winning, loved being right even if he was lying; but most especially, he loved how jealous other men seemed to be over the fact that he was (at least in their minds) dating you.

He couldn't deny - though he tried, really - that you two looked good together. His rougher features mixed with your softer ones gave you both an aura of near unreachability, which yes, was pretentious of him to think but he thought nevertheless.

The ceremony was quick and endearing, a smile spread across everyone's faces at the shared loved between the bride and the groom. As the crowd clapped, Max leaned into you, "don't tell me you're crying". "I am, just to think that I'll have to keep pretending to date YOU for the next 10 hours" you replied, his mocking smile recognizing the joke.

The reception hall was beautifully decorated with shades of soft green and violet orchids. Max tried not to think about how much it matched the shade of your dress, how you looked like you had come to life from a classical novel. He tried to feel like anyone but Mr. Darcy as you felt so much like Elisabeth Bennett to him.

Sitting down next to him, you found this part easier - mingling and socializing was something you enjoyed more than he did - especially with alcohol in the mix. It's a wedding, you thought; this is what weddings are for.

So you drank the wine with the main course and sipper champagne to celebrate and ordered a few cocktails when it was time to dance and talk - and you felt it on your body almost as much as you felt Max's hand occasionally sitting on your thigh, but not even close to how strongly you felt his thumb caress your skin as he did so. Truth was, he too was drunk; his eyes looked smaller and his cheeks were flushed, and the amount of times he ran a hair through his dirty blonde hair had caused it to look messier. As you looked at him, you felt he never looks as attractive as when he is like this - loose and carefree, his shirt sleeves rolled up and a smile on his face when he notices people laugh at his joke.

"I have to admit I didn't think it was true" his friend said when Max left to go to the bathroom. He looked drunker than the two of you combined, his words hard to decypher, like a riddle. "He's been talking about you for months now and we never saw you for real so we thought you didn't exist" he laughed, and you laughed back before it registered.

"Months?" you asked him, eyebrows furrowed yet attempting to remain composed. You shouldn't have asked it - a supposedly month old girlfriend wouldn't be surprised but you were his fake month old girlfriend and you weren't understanding it anymore.

"Yeah. He talks about you so much all the time I think even we started to date you" he laughed again, yet this time you didn't find the joke so funny. You were frozen in your seat, merely blinking as if trying to put the confusing puzzle together, the pieces not quite fitting the way you thought they would.

A touch on your shoulder unfroze you, almost like magic, like a disney film come to life. You turned around to find the groom, somewhat sober, smiling at you while also looking somewhat concerned. "He's calling for you... And he's also absolutely wasted" he said, pointing to the door of the hall.

"Shit" you cursed, getting up from your seat at a speed you couldn't believe, worry filling your heart, making you forget the conversation you were just having.

Opening the door to the garden outside, you found Max sitting down against the wall, shirt partly unbuttoned and disheveled hair. When he saw you, he grinned, such genuine happiness laced with tipsiness.

"Lightweight" you mocked as you crouched in front of him, trying to balance yourself on your heels, somehow managing it despite your own drunkness.

"You're laughing at my mis- Shit- my misery" his throat bobbed up and down, exaggerating his own agony with a hand on his chest and another on his forehead like a Shakespeare character.

"I have to admit it's quite fun sometimes" you bit your lip as you fixed his hair as best as you could, hands brushing through its soft, blonde mess.

"You're so– you're so sweet" he said, his words dragged and messy. He brought a beer bottle to his lips but you stopped him before any liquid touched them.

"I think that's enough of that for tonight" you grabbed it and placed it behind you, sitting in front of him.

"See now... Now you're being mean" his hand grabbed a strand of your hair and played with it softly as he pouted.

"Okay big boy I'm gonna get you some water" you say, getting up once again, yet his hand stops you, grabbing your wrist tightly.

You looked at him, startled. His drunken state is visible, and it felt frustrating that you had to be the one sobering up for him. The music vibrated through the wall he leaned against, somehow tickling him, making him giggle.

"Stay," he managed to say, eyes half closed, "I'm so glad we're- Fuck things are spinning so much" his hands rushed to his eyes and his head hung low, "Ah fuck. I'm so glad we're datin- Fuck, no, oops-" he continued laughing despite how sick he felt, the whole situation sounding hilarious when filtered through alcohol.

You giggled along with him, mostly because you wanted to see if you could convince him to move, scared he might feel worse or pass out on the cold floor if he doesn't do so. "Fake dating. Fake dating, I know. I knowww" he continued, his words dragged and his finger pointing at you before poking your nose with such innocent sweetness you were taken aback.

"Max" you tried to sound more assertive but found it hard to do so, your own intoxicated state making the situation lighter than what it actually was. Your heart racing was a symptom of it, one you wouldn't feel if sobriety was an option, you thought. Max's eyes wouldn't seem to stare at you differently were he sober as well, and the way he scanned your features, his gaze staying on your lips for longer than expected, wouldn't affect you in the slightest had you not drank some alcohol.

"I like it when you say my name" he looked up at you innocently, pleading, almost.

"Want me to say it again?" you asked, smiling. You complied with these demands because you knew they were childish whims of an intoxicated man, his happiness a priority in times like these. Upon his nod, you started saying his name, half teasingly, half reassuringly, the leaves rustling in the garden behind you.

"Max... Max!! Max Max-"

He shouldn't. It would complicate things, and he liked when they were simple, clean and organized. He knew he shouldn't even when his whole vision spun and his brain convinced him that he should do things he would never do otherwise. But every time he refrained from saying something he would stumble across all his words and trip and fall and his head would only hurt more, and it seemed as if he could only focus if he kept listening to you and talking to you and looking at you.

The lights shone behind you in a way that made it feel as though he was dreaming, like you were a mirage, too good to be true. Maybe his friends were right - you weren't actually real. He wanted to be sure, in that moment. That you were real and that he wanted you as much as he thought. And though he shouldn't, though it was a terrible idea, he couldn't help but lean over to kiss you.

He tasted like champagne - bubbly and slightly sweet, his movements sloppy given his state, yet you couldn't help but drink it all in. Part of you - a big part - reciprocated the kiss, felt his fingers on the side of your neck, pulling you messily towards him, and tried to steady him, guiding him gently with your own lips.

It was odd, how this felt so right yet the fake hand holding didn't. As Max kissed you, that thought entered his clouded mind - did it feel wrong because it was fake and this was real? Your skin felt so soft, so much softer now he could touch it freely and unapologetically.

"Fuck-" he started, pulling away, his head resting against the wall once again as he stared at you, noticing how it hasn't hit you yet; what you just did, how it affected everything. "I fucking love you" he shrugged as you fixed your hair, pausing with arms raised for a few seconds before smiling softly.

"You're drunk" you replied, looking at his own grin, the gleam in his eyes making him appear both innocent and guilty of so many things.

"I'm drunk and I fucking love you"

"Max..." you started, and he said your name back to you with such tenderness you couldn't believe his lips tasted of alcohol earlier and not something sweet.

"We'll talk tomorrow, okay?" you continued, waiting for the silence to swallow you both.

[eggonthemoon]

Alien Stage Round 6 Character Analysis and Lyrics Breakdown

Okay so obviously spoilers, don't click Keep Reading if you haven't watched Round 6.

God fuck it's so fucking beautiful, where do I start?

I don't even know what is going on with those rapid shots of what I assume is some form of experiment that Till was involved in. I have no clue what the goal was or if it succeeded but somehow (for no real reason other than that one image of Luka standing behind Till ominously) I feel that Luka is involved with it.

Was this an attempt by Heperu's (Luka's guardian) rival to make a human capable of going up against Luka? Till being the youngest and Luka being the oldest also means that Till's guardian could have caught on to what Heperu was planning to do with Luka and then start experimenting on humans shortly after and it would still somewhat line up with the timeline.

But I'm getting into conspiracy territory, back to suffering!!

Allow me, to the tips of your fingers

Allow me, to the ends of your feet

Dissolve me in your gaze

I don't want to let you go

Oh this hurts. Seeing him look so defeated and exhausted, you can tell that even though to the public it's not certain whether Mizi died or not it doesn't matter to him. Because she's still gone away from his world, where he is unable to reach her. He wants to dissolve and die but he also doesn't want to let her go if there is even a sliver of hope that she lives.

Please, leave me scars

Please, hurt me so that

Not a single drop of me remains

Let me drown in you

The footage that plays to these lyrics really show how defeated he is. He refuses to sing, his passion for the art completely dead and buried. And (his guardian I assume) when someone shoves the fact that Mizi is gone in his face he lashes out and punches one of the aliens near him.

Until these falling stars

Are buried in the blur of time

However his heart isn't entirely in it and is quickly apprehended.

He is beyond exhausted and doesn't even protest or put up a fight while (the same alien he punched btw) another alien runs their fingers through his hair.

On your icy lips

Read my soul

Yes, my soul

He hopes that even if Mizi is dead that her spirit watches over him, seeing his soul and by extension, Him, for all that he is. Every thought and breath until he falls asleep is for Mizi.

But didn't we already know this is how he'd be like? Time for something juicier~

Even if your cold words

Carve scars beneath my eyes

May they linger on your tongue

You can break me apart

God this is heart shattering. Even if Till doesn't care for him, even if Till throws hurtful words his way, Ivan will still lie awake at night, cherishing what sliver of attention he is given. It doesn't matter if Till hates him, because as long as he is on Till's mind Ivan is happy. He is entirely in Till's hands, capable of being build up or torn down depending on how much (or how little) he is perceived by him.

Notice my pain

And mend me right now

To quiet my fears

I'll drown in you

He wants so deeply to be seen by Till, noticed. Till who doesn't let anything hold him down and always picks himself back up became a pillar of hope and strength to Ivan. It didn't matter how or in what context he gets to be seen, so he went out of his way to provoke him just to get Till to look at him even for a moment.

This was mentioned a while back on VIVINOS Patreon but the entire incident where Mizi and Till got attacked by that hound monster was orchestrated by him. I feel like there is two possible reasons for this depending on when in the timeline this takes place.

Either he wanted to test Till's resolve in hopes of being proven wrong about his courage (after all your hopes can't be dashed on the rocks, if you never had hopes to begin with) only for his obsession to end up growing even stronger than before.

Or he tried to let Till get roughed up enough that he'd be transferred (solitary confinement? emergency room?) somewhere else away from the others at Anakt, so they could escape together.

But we all know how that turned out.

Either way what Ivan wants isn't freedom, he's long since given up on that. There's no point in his freedom if the person that inspired him to yearn for it isn't by his side. He needs Till there, his very presence to reassure him that no matter what Till won't falter. But he failed to take account of the one thing that weakens Till's resolve.

Mizi.

Mizi is to Till what Till is to Ivan. And so without Mizi in his world Till crumbles. Since Till will only go where Mizi is and Mizi already gave away her heart to someone else, it's impossible for Ivan to be free while keeping Till in his world.

And so he follows him, resigning himself to a life without freedom.

Sick of these nights to come

To be engulfed in silence

But the distance between them is killing him, and each and every day they come closer to their inevitable doom.

It doesn't matter if they believe the lie the aliens told them, that if they die singing they will be blessed. Because what is the point in that? How can going somewhere far away from the people they love be a blessing?

In your gaze where I am seen

Consume me

Yes, me

His desires mirror Till's. He wants his soul to be seen by him, recognized for his undying love for him. He wants Till to see that he can give him all that Till yearns for in Mizi and more.

To this everlasting melody

Face to face we dance

And yet Till still refuses to look Ivan in the eyes.

Things get a little unclear but since they aren't shown singing here and there's no flashback to accompany the lyrics, we can assume that at this moment Till most likely gave up on singing.

With our story

Lost in forever's embrace

I'm not sure if Ivan intended this from the start or if it's a decision he made then and there but one thing is certain. If Till stops singing then that would mean he forfeits, he'll lose. Till has never once given up. Even when he went back for Mizi that night, he never intended to leave her in the first place. But now without her he crumbles.

And Ivan can't let that happen, not like this.

Moral grey area aside, this scene is so deeply moving to me

And I don't say that in a romantic context, absolutely not. This is something much deeper than just love. This is the culmination of everything they've been through, all those moments lead up to this.

Because this isn't a kiss.

This is Ivan throwing his life away for Till.

Till was going to loose, the only thing that could overturn that is if his opponent attacks him. The kiss was to distract Till and keep him from catching up to what Ivan was planning.

Just look at the contrast between their first and second kiss. As soon as the score board shows Till is in the lead, he gives him a gentle peck on the lips. The contrast is stark and full of meaning. This was the genuine kiss, hidden behind a smokescreen of aggressive bravado created from the previous one.

And it worked. Till was completely convinced that Ivan's intentions was to kill him, and he was fully intent on letting him.

I know a lot of people doubted his intentions. Because he didn't let go of Till's neck the minute he saw their scores, a lot of people assume that this was Ivan trying to drag Till down with him.

But the minute he coughed up blood what does he do?

He smiles.

and let's Till go.

He's only human. He might know logically that Till has won the match. But emotionally he refuses to let go until he is certain.

Until he knows for a fact that he is the one bleeding and dying he'll keep up his charade.

And then.

And only then.

Till truly sees Ivan.

As he dissolves in his gaze.

[23victoria]

off the table

pairings: lewis hamilton x fem!reader

word count: 13k

warnings: SMUT (wrap it before you tap it), toxic relationship, cheating, miscommunication, cussing, best friends to lovers, idiots in love, mentions of educational burnout, semi-double pov

authors note: listen to off the table by ariana grande ft. the weeknd 13k words is insane to me, this is the most i’ve ever wrote, i had so much fun writing this honestly, i pray it’s not shit…cause that would be embarrassing, ignore any typos please, also a little self indulgent (not all the way, trust)okay i’m done, hope you enjoy!!

want to be tagged in my works?! CLICK HERE

f1 masterlist 1k celebration

You met Lewis when you were just seven years old. It was a typical summer day, the sun high in the sky, casting a golden glow over the park. You were new to the neighborhood, shy and unsure of yourself, clutching the handles of your bike as if it were your lifeline. The other kids seemed so confident, racing around on their bikes, laughing and shouting as they sped down the dirt paths. You stood on the sidelines, watching, wishing you could join in but not quite brave enough to take the first step.

That's when you noticed him—a boy with wild curls and a bright smile, his bike skidding to a stop in front of you. "Hey, do you want to race?" he asked, his voice filled with enthusiasm. You hesitated, glancing down at your bike, then back at him. He must have sensed your uncertainty because he grinned and added, "I'll go easy on you, I promise."

Something about his easy confidence made you smile, and before you knew it, you were racing side by side with him, the wind whipping through your hair as you pedaled as fast as you could. You didn't win—Lewis was too fast for that—but it didn't matter. For the first time since moving, you felt like you belonged.

From that day on, you and Lewis were inseparable. Every afternoon after school, you'd meet at the park, racing your bikes until the sun dipped below the horizon. He told you about his love for karting, his eyes lighting up as he described the thrill of speeding around the track, the roar of the engine in his ears. You didn't understand it entirely—karts seemed like a bigger, scarier version of your bike—but you loved listening to him talk about it, the way his passion seemed to pour out of him.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

As the years went by, your friendship with Lewis deepened. You became each other's confidants, sharing your dreams and fears late into the night. You told him about your dream of becoming a doctor, and he listened with the same intensity he showed on the track. In return, he confided in you about his aspirations in racing, how he wanted to be the best, to make his family proud.

There were moments, though, where something unspoken lingered between you—moments where his gaze seemed to linger a little too long, where his touch seemed a little too tender. But you never noticed, too caught up in your own world to see the way his feelings for you were evolving.

One day, when you were both fourteen, you were sitting in your room, studying for a biology test. Lewis had come over to help you with your homework, but you ended up talking about everything except schoolwork. "Do you ever think about the future?" you asked, lying on your bed with a textbook open in front of you.

"All the time," he admitted, glancing over at you. "I think about racing, where I'll be, who I'll be with."

You smiled, oblivious to the hint of something more in his words. "I bet you'll be famous," you teased, nudging him playfully. "I'll be able to say I knew you before you were cool."

He laughed, but there was a wistfulness in his eyes. "What about you? Where do you see yourself?"

You shrugged, turning your attention back to your textbook. "Hopefully in med school, maybe even Harvard if I can get in. Saving lives and all that."

There was a pause, and when you looked back at him, you saw something flicker in his expression, something you couldn't quite place. But before you could ask, he smiled and said, "You'll get in. I know you will."

You didn't know it then, but that was one of the many moments where he almost told you how he felt. But your casual mention of Harvard, of a future that seemed so far from his own, made him hesitate. How could he confess his feelings when it seemed like your dreams were leading you in opposite directions?

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

When you were sixteen, Lewis's karting career began to take off even more. He was spending more time at the track, traveling for races, and you were busy with school. But despite the distance, you stayed close, texting each other daily, finding time to hang out whenever he was home.

One evening, after one of his races, he invited you to a celebratory dinner with his family. You were honored, knowing how important these moments were to him. As you sat across from him at the table, laughing and talking with his family, you felt a warmth in your chest, a sense of belonging that you couldn't quite explain.

After dinner, as you walked back to your car, Lewis caught your arm, stopping you. "Hey, can we talk for a minute?" he asked, his voice unusually serious.

"Of course," you replied, a little surprised by his tone. You turned to face him, and for a moment, you just stood there, looking at each other in the dim light of the streetlamp.

He seemed to struggle with his words, his hands fidgeting in his pockets. "I've been meaning to tell you something," he began, his voice low. "It's just... we've known each other for so long, and you've always been there for me. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Your heart swelled at his words, and you smiled, completely missing the deeper meaning behind them. "You're my best friend, Lewis. I'll always be there for you, no matter what."

He looked down, a slight frown tugging at his lips. "Yeah, best friends," he repeated, his voice softer now. "But what if—"

Just then, your phone buzzed in your pocket, interrupting the moment. You pulled it out, glancing at the screen, and saw a text from a boy in your class that you'd been talking to. "Sorry, it's just Josh," you said, quickly typing a response.

When you looked back up, Lewis's expression had shifted, the vulnerability from moments before gone. "No worries," he said, forcing a smile. "I just wanted to say that I'm really proud of you. For everything."

You felt a pang of guilt, sensing that you had missed something important, but you pushed it aside, giving him a quick hug. "Thanks, Lewis. That means a lot."

As you drove home that night, you couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed, but you couldn't quite put your finger on it. Meanwhile, Lewis watched you leave, the words he had almost said hanging heavy in the air. He had been so close to telling you how he felt, but your mention of Josh had stopped him. How could he compete with someone who was already making you smile in ways he only dreamed of?

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

As you started high school, you started dating Josh. He was sweet, attentive, and everything you thought you wanted in a boyfriend. Lewis, ever the supportive friend, smiled and encouraged you, even as his heart ached every time he saw you with someone else.

He watched from the sidelines as your relationship with Josh blossomed, always there to lend a listening ear when things got tough. And when Josh broke your heart, leaving you devastated just before prom, Lewis was the first person you called.

"I can't believe he did this," you sobbed into the phone, your voice thick with tears.

"I'll be right there," Lewis replied without hesitation. Within minutes, he was at your door, pulling you into a comforting embrace. He held you as you cried, his hand gently stroking your hair, murmuring soothing words into your ear.

"You deserve so much better," he whispered, his heart breaking alongside yours. "Anyone who can't see how amazing you are doesn't deserve you."

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. "Why can't all guys be like you, Lewis?"

He smiled sadly, wishing he could tell you that he would never hurt you the way Josh did, that he would cherish you and make you feel loved every day. But instead, he just said, "Because they're not smart enough to realize what they have."

In that moment, you realized how much you had taken Lewis for granted, how he had always been there for you, even when you didn't deserve it. But you still didn't see the depth of his feelings for you, too caught up in your own heartbreak to notice the way he looked at you, as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

When it came time to apply for college, you were determined to go to the one with the best medical program, whether it was Harvard, Yale, Duke, or John Hopkins. You had worked so hard throughout high school, dedicating countless hours to your studies, extracurriculars, and volunteer work. It was your dream, and you weren't going to let anything stand in your way.

Lewis, on the other hand, was focused on his racing career. He had already been scouted by several teams, and it was clear that his future was on the track. You were both proud of each other's accomplishments, but there was an unspoken tension between you as the reality of your diverging paths began to sink in.

The day you received your acceptance letter from Harvard was bittersweet. You were overjoyed to have achieved your dream, but the thought of leaving Lewis behind filled you with a sense of loss. You had always imagined that you would be there for each other through everything, but now it seemed like your lives were pulling you in different directions.

"I got in," you told Lewis when you saw him later that day, your voice filled with a mix of excitement and sadness.

He smiled, pulling you into a tight hug. "I knew you would," he said, his voice proud but tinged with something else. "You're going to do amazing things, Y/N/N."

"But I'll miss you," you admitted, your heart aching at the thought of being so far away from him.

"I'll miss you too," he replied, his voice quiet. "But we'll stay in touch, right? It's not like we're never going to see each other again."

You nodded, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. "Of course. We'll text and call all the time. And I'll visit whenever I can."

He smiled, but there was a sadness in his eyes that you couldn't ignore. "Yeah, we'll make it work."

As the summer passed, you and Lewis spent as much time together as possible, trying to make the most of your remaining days before you both went off to pursue your dreams. There were moments of laughter and joy, but also moments of quiet reflection, as you both grappled with the reality of what was to come.

On your last night before leaving for college, you and Lewis sat on the roof of his house, staring up at the stars. It was a tradition you had started when you were kids, a way to escape the world and just be together in the silence of the night.

"I'm really going to miss this," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Me too," he replied, his gaze fixed on the sky.

You turned to look at him, your heart heavy with a mix of emotions. "Promise me we'll stay close, no matter what."

He finally looked at you, his eyes filled with a depth of emotion that took your breath away. "I promise," he said, his voice steady and sincere.

You smiled, reaching out to take his hand. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Lewis."

He squeezed your hand gently, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "You'll never have to find out," he said, his voice filled with a quiet determination.

As you sat there together, the weight of unspoken words hung between you, but neither of you said anything more. There was a part of Lewis that wanted to tell you everything—to confess his feelings, to ask you to stay—but he knew it wouldn't be fair. You had your own dreams to chase, and he couldn't ask you to give them up for him.

So instead, he kept his promise, supporting you from afar as you embarked on the next chapter of your life. You texted and called as often as you could, sharing stories of your experiences at Harvard, while he told you about his progress in racing. The distance was hard, but you both did your best to stay connected.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

College was everything you had hoped it would be. You excelled in your classes, made new friends, and even started dating again. But no matter how busy you were, there was always a part of you that missed Lewis. You missed the way he made you laugh, the way he could always make you feel better no matter what was going on in your life.

You visited home during the holidays, and every time you saw Lewis, it was like no time had passed at all. You fell back into your old routines, spending hours talking and laughing, as if the distance between you had never existed.

But there were moments when you noticed a change in him—moments when he seemed quieter, more reserved. You didn't think much of it at first, chalking it up to the stress of his racing career. But as time went on, you began to wonder if there was something more.

One night, during your winter break, you and Lewis went for a drive, just like you used to do when you were younger. The streets were quiet, the city lights reflecting off the snow-covered ground. You talked about everything and nothing, enjoying the comfort of each other's presence.

As you drove past your old high school, memories flooded back, and you found yourself laughing at the thought of how much had changed since then. "Can you believe it's been four years since we graduated?" you asked, glancing over at Lewis.

He smiled, but there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. "Yeah, it's crazy how time flies."

You sighed, your smile fading as you thought about how much your lives had diverged since high school. "Do you ever miss the way things used to be?" you asked, your voice filled with a touch of nostalgia.

"All the time," he admitted, his voice quiet.

There was a moment of silence as you both reflected on the past, and for a brief second, you thought you saw something in his expression that made your heart skip a beat. But before you could say anything, he turned away, his gaze fixed on the road ahead.

"I've been thinking," he began, his voice hesitant, "about how different our lives are now. You're at college, I'm racing in F2... it's like we're living in two separate worlds."

You frowned, unsure of where he was going with this. "But we're still friends, Lewis. That hasn't changed."

"I know," he said quickly, "but sometimes I wonder if..." He trailed off, as if struggling to find the right words.

"If what?" you prompted, your heart pounding in your chest.

He shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Nothing. Forget I said anything."

You wanted to push him, to ask him what he was really thinking, but something in his tone made you stop. Instead, you just nodded, deciding to let it go.

As the night wore on, you found yourself growing more and more frustrated with your inability to understand what was going on with Lewis. You had always been able to read him like a book, but now it felt like there was a wall between you, something unspoken that neither of you could break through.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

The next few years passed in a blur of classes, exams, and racing events. You and Lewis remained close, but the distance between you became more pronounced as time went on. You both pursued your dreams with a single-minded determination, but in the process, you began to drift further apart.

There were moments when you wondered if you had made the right choice, if maybe you should have stayed closer to home, closer to Lewis. But every time you thought about it, you pushed the thoughts aside, telling yourself that you were doing what you were meant to do.

Lewis, on the other hand, struggled with his feelings for you more than ever. He watched from afar as you continued to excel in your studies, as you dated other people, as you lived a life that seemed so different from his own. But he never stopped caring about you, never stopped being there for you whenever you needed him.

And though he never told you, he knew deep down that he would always love you, even if you never felt the same way about him.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

Your life took a different turn when you least expected it. You had always been focused, driven, and passionate about becoming a doctor. The years of studying, the late nights in the library, the relentless pursuit of knowledge—it all felt like it was leading you toward a future you had envisioned since childhood. But as time went on, something inside you began to shift.

It started subtly at first, a creeping sense of exhaustion that no amount of sleep seemed to cure. The long hours in the lab, the constant pressure to excel, the never-ending cycle of exams and practicals—it all began to weigh on you. You could feel the burnout setting in, the stress gnawing away at your enthusiasm. You told yourself that it was normal, that every med student went through this phase, that it was just another hurdle to overcome. But deep down, you knew something was wrong.

Your friends noticed it too. They saw the dark circles under your eyes, the way you seemed to retreat into yourself, the way your laughter had become rare, replaced by a quiet, pervasive anxiety. One of your closest friends at the time, a fellow student who had always been attuned to your moods, suggested something radical: "Why don't you try something different for a while? Just to take the pressure off."

You were taken aback by the suggestion. "Like what?" you asked, genuinely curious. You couldn't imagine stepping away from your studies, even for a moment. But the exhaustion was so overwhelming that you were willing to entertain any idea that might offer some relief.

"Have you ever thought about acting?" your friend asked, a mischievous smile playing on their lips. "You've always had a flair for drama, and you're great at expressing yourself. It could be fun, and who knows? It might help you recharge."

The idea was so out of left field that you laughed. Acting? You had never seriously considered it. Sure, you had participated in a few school plays when you were younger, but it was always just for fun, never something you thought of as a career. But the more you thought about it, the more the idea intrigued you. Maybe stepping away from the rigid structure of medical school could be exactly what you needed. Maybe exploring a different side of yourself could reignite the passion that had been dwindling for medicine.

On a whim, you decided to give it a try. You signed up for an acting workshop, just to see if you had any talent or interest in it. To your surprise, you loved it. The freedom of expression, the creativity, the way you could lose yourself in a character and forget about the stress of your real life—it was exhilarating. For the first time in months, you felt genuinely happy, like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

Encouraged by the positive experience, you started attending more workshops, getting involved in local theater productions, and even taking a few acting classes on the side. It was all just for fun at first, a way to balance out the intensity of your studies. But the more you immersed yourself in the world of acting, the more you realized how much you enjoyed it.

Then came the fateful day when everything changed. One of your acting instructors, who had been impressed by your natural talent, mentioned that a casting call was being held for a new movie. It was a big-budget production, with a well-known director at the helm, and they were looking for fresh faces to fill the lead roles. Your instructor encouraged you to audition, insisting that you had the potential to land the part.

At first, you hesitated. The idea of auditioning for a major film seemed absurd. You were a med student, not a professional actress. But something inside you, that same part that had pushed you to explore acting in the first place, urged you to go for it. What did you have to lose?

So, with a mix of nerves and excitement, you prepared for the audition. You worked on your lines, practiced your delivery, and did your best to channel the emotions of the character you were auditioning for. The day of the audition arrived, and you walked into the casting room with your heart pounding in your chest.

To your amazement, the audition went better than you could have imagined. You felt a connection with the character, a sense of ease in front of the camera that surprised even you. The casting directors seemed impressed, and you left the audition feeling a strange mix of exhilaration and disbelief.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

A few weeks later, you received the call that would change your life. You had landed the lead role in the movie. You couldn't believe it. This was supposed to be a temporary distraction, a way to relieve stress—not the start of a new career. But here you were, about to step into the world of professional acting.

The decision to accept the role was not an easy one. It meant putting your medical studies on hold, something that terrified you. You had worked so hard to get where you were, and the thought of stepping away felt like abandoning a part of yourself. But there was also a part of you that was excited, that saw this as an incredible opportunity, a chance to do something completely different.

You’re pacing your dorm apartment, the walls suddenly feeling too close, the air too thick. You can’t breathe. The call is stuck in your mind, you’ve been offered the lead role in a major movie—a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. But the timing couldn’t be worse. You’re just a year away from completing your medical degree. A year. After all the sleepless nights, endless studying, and grueling rotations, it’s all so close to paying off. And yet…

You drop onto your bed, head in your hands, and your thoughts spiral out of control. What if you’re making a mistake? What if you take the role and regret it? What if you stay in medicine and never know what could have been? You feel your chest tightening, panic creeping in. You need to talk to someone. You need to talk to him.

Without thinking, you reach for your phone and press Lewis’s contact. As the phone rings, you silently beg for him to pick up. “Please, Lewis, pick up. Please, please, please…”

The call connects, and you hear a groggy voice on the other end. “Y/N/N? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” His voice is laced with concern, but there’s a hint of sleep still clinging to his words.

Your heart drops. You forgot. You completely forgot that he’s in Belgium for the race at Spa. You glance at the clock, realizing just how late it is over there. “Oh my God, Lewis, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I completely forgot about the time difference and your race tomorrow…”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he says, his voice softening. “I’m awake now. Are you alright? What’s going on?”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the words tumble out in a rush. “I got offered the lead in a major movie, and I don’t know if I should take it. I’m just a year away from finishing med school, and it feels insane to stop now. But at the same time, this is such a huge opportunity, and I’m spiraling, and you were the first person I thought of to call.”

There’s a pause on the other end, and you can almost hear him processing what you’ve just said. “Lead role in a movie? Acting? You’re an actress? When did this happen?”

You blink, realizing you’ve never told him. Your heart sinks a little further. “Oh… yeah, I guess we haven’t talked in a while, have we?”

Silence hangs between you for a moment, heavy with unspoken words. “Yeah,” he finally says, the word carrying more weight than it should. “We haven’t.”

You clear your throat, trying to push past the awkwardness. “I was feeling burned out with all the studying, and a friend suggested I try something new to take my mind off it. I took an acting class, just for fun, but then one class turned into two, and before I knew it, I was hooked. And now… now I’m being offered a lead role in a movie. Crazy, right? How things change so fast…”

He exhales slowly, as if trying to absorb everything you’ve just told him. “Yeah… yeah, it is crazy.” There’s another pause, but this time it feels different—more contemplative. “Look, Y/N/N, I know this is a huge decision, and it’s not one you can take lightly. But I also know you. You’re not someone who backs down from a challenge. You’ve got this incredible intuition, this ability to know what’s right for you, even if it’s terrifying. If acting is something that excites you, something that makes you feel alive, then maybe it’s worth exploring. You’re not giving up on medicine; you’re just… taking a detour. Following your heart. And whatever you decide, I’ll be here to support you. I believe in you.”

His words wash over you, calming the storm inside your mind. You feel a warmth spread through your chest, easing the tightness that had gripped you just moments before. “Thank you, Lewis. I really needed to hear that.”

“Of course,” he replies softly. “I’m glad I could help.”

You smile, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. “Good luck with your race tomorrow. I’m sorry again for disturbing you.”

“Don’t be,” he says, his voice tinged with affection. “I’m always here for you, no matter what. And thanks—I’ll need that luck.”

A comfortable silence falls between you, the kind that only exists between people who’ve known each other for years. You can almost picture him on the other end of the line, smiling that soft, reassuring smile of his.

“It’s really good to hear your voice,” you say, your tone almost wistful.

“Yeah,” he echoes, a hint of something unspoken in his voice. “It is.”

You close your eyes, letting the moment linger, not wanting it to end. But eventually, you know it must. “Goodnight, Lewis.”

“Goodnight, Y/N/N.”

The call ends, and you’re left in the quiet of your dorm room, the weight of the decision still pressing on you, but somehow, it feels a little lighter now. You sit on your bed, staring at the wall, thinking about the offer, about your career, but mostly about him—about how much you miss him, miss his voice, his presence in your life.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

In the end, you decided to take the leap. You paused your medical studies, packed your bags, and flew out to the film's shooting location. It was a whirlwind experience—long hours on set, learning the ins and outs of the industry, working alongside seasoned actors who had been doing this for years. It was challenging, but also incredibly rewarding. You discovered a new side of yourself, a side that loved the thrill of performing, the camaraderie of the cast and crew, the magic of bringing a story to life on screen.

When the movie was released, it became an unexpected hit. Critics praised your performance, calling you a "rising star" and predicting a bright future for you in the industry. Offers for other roles began to pour in, and before you knew it, you were being whisked off to auditions, meetings with agents, and photo shoots for magazines. Your life had completely changed, and you were caught up in the whirlwind of it all.

As your acting career took off, your medical aspirations took a backseat. You told yourself it was just temporary, that you would return to your studies once things settled down. But the more time you spent in the acting world, the more you realized how much you loved it. Acting allowed you to explore different aspects of your personality, to tell stories that resonated with people, to connect with audiences in a way that was deeply fulfilling.

But with success came new challenges. The pressure to maintain your newfound fame, the scrutiny from the media, the constant demands on your time—it was all overwhelming. There were moments when you questioned whether you had made the right choice, moments when you longed for the stability and sense of purpose that medicine had provided. But then you would step onto a set, feel the rush of excitement as the cameras rolled, and you would remember why you had chosen this path.

You also had to navigate the complexities of your relationships. Some of your friends and family were supportive, thrilled to see you succeeding in a new field. But others were skeptical, worried that you were throwing away years of hard work for a career that was far less stable and predictable. You had long conversations with your parents, trying to reassure them that you hadn't abandoned your dreams of becoming a doctor, that you were just exploring a different side of yourself for now.

And then there was Lewis. His racing career turned out to be everything you imagined it would be. He’s a four-time Formula 1 World Champion, and despite all the fame and glory, he always made time for you. He had always been your biggest supporter, no matter what you decided to do. But even he had his doubts. "Are you sure this is what you want?" he asked one day, as you sat together in your apartment, reviewing the script for your next film.

"I think so," you replied, uncertainty creeping into your voice. "I never expected this to happen, but now that it has, I can't imagine walking away."

He studied you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "I just want you to be happy, Y/N. Whatever that looks like."

His words stuck with you, a reminder of the person you had always been, the person you were still trying to figure out. You loved acting, but there was a part of you that missed the structure, the challenge, and the sense of purpose that medicine had provided.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

As your acting career continued to flourish, you made a promise to yourself: you wouldn't close the door on medicine entirely. The years of hard work and late nights studying had shaped you, and you were determined to find a way to honor that journey, even as new opportunities emerged in the entertainment world. It was during one of those opportunities that you first met Jensen. The encounter happened at a charity gala, an event you never imagined attending before your acting career took off.

You stood quietly in a corner, nursing a glass of champagne, your eyes scanning the room filled with celebrities and high-profile individuals. You had been invited because of your rising status in the industry, a status that still felt surreal at times. The room buzzed with energy, laughter, and the clinking of glasses, but it was Jensen’s presence that captivated you. He had an effortless charisma, a magnetism that drew you in from across the room.

Jensen, with his boyish charm and magnetic charisma, made his way through the crowd effortlessly. When his eyes locked onto yours, it was as if the world had stopped. He approached you with a confidence that was both alluring and intimidating.

"Hello beautiful, I'm Jensen," he said, his smile dazzling.

"Hi, I'm Y/N," you replied, trying to match his confidence but feeling your heart race.

From that moment on, your life transformed into a whirlwind romance. Jensen's world was intoxicating—red carpet events, glamorous parties, and moments that seemed too perfect to be real. He was attentive, always making you feel like the center of his universe. The late-night phone calls, surprise visits, and stolen moments of affection made you believe that you had found your fairy tale.

Your relationship with Jensen was the epitome of Hollywood glamour. Photographers captured your every move, and tabloids buzzed with stories of your romance. At first, the attention was thrilling. You felt special, adored, and on top of the world.

But as the months passed, the cracks began to show. Jensen's demanding schedule meant that he was often away on set, leaving you feeling lonely and neglected. The glamour started to fade, replaced by the harsh realities of a high-profile relationship.

Jensen's charm, which once made you feel special, started to feel suffocating. His possessiveness grew, and he began to dictate your choices. What you wore, where you went, who you spoke to—all became subjects of his control. At first, you brushed it off as his way of caring, but soon it became clear that his love was conditional.

The late-night arguments became frequent. Jensen's temper, once hidden behind his charming facade, surfaced. He would lash out, accusing you of not understanding his pressures and responsibilities. You tried to be supportive, to be the perfect partner, but nothing seemed to be enough.

You began to feel like a prisoner in your own life, trapped by the expectations and scrutiny of the public eye. The relationship that once made you feel alive now drained you of your happiness.

The turning point came one night when you discovered Jensen's infidelity. You found messages on his phone from a woman named Claire. The words were explicit, leaving no room for misinterpretation. Your heart shattered as you realized that the man you thought you knew had betrayed you.

Confronting Jensen was one of the hardest things you had ever done. He denied it at first, then tried to downplay it. But the evidence was irrefutable. The betrayal cut deep, leaving scars that would take years to heal.

Despite the heartbreak, you tried to salvage the relationship. You didn't want to believe that the fairy tale was over. You attended couples therapy, made compromises, and tried to forgive. But the trust was gone, and without it, the relationship was a shadow of what it once was.

The final straw came when another woman, Lisa, contacted you. She had photos and videos of Jensen with her, and she was threatening to expose them to the media unless you paid her a significant amount of money. You were truly at your breaking point.

The humiliation, the betrayal, and the constant pressure became too much to bear. You decided to expose Jensen and the women who had been involved with him. You gathered all the evidence, and with a heavy heart, you released it to the public.

The reaction was immediate and explosive. Social media was ablaze with shock and outrage. Jensen's image, once so pristine, was shattered. The world saw him for who he truly was—a man who had deceived and manipulated those closest to him.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

Your phone buzzes incessantly on the nightstand, the screen lighting up with each incoming call, text, and notification. It’s been going on for hours now, ever since the news broke. The media is in a frenzy, and your family and friends are no different. Everyone wants to know if it’s true, if the rumors about Jensen’s infidelity are real. But you can’t bring yourself to face it. You’ve been lying in bed, numb and drained, staring at the ceiling as if you could will the world away.

Each buzz feels like a jolt, a painful reminder of the life you thought you had, the relationship you thought was solid. Jensen had been controlling, isolating you from everyone you cared about, but you never imagined it would come to this. The betrayal cuts deeper than you ever thought possible, and the pain is almost numbing in its intensity.

You roll over, burying your face in the pillow, trying to block out the noise, the world, everything. But then, amidst the endless stream of messages and calls, a name flashes across your screen that makes you freeze. Lewis.

You haven’t spoken to him in what feels like forever. Jensen had made sure of that, keeping you away from your friends, especially Lewis. But seeing his name now stirs something inside you, a mix of longing, relief, and an overwhelming sense of loss. You reach for the phone with trembling hands and answer, but you can’t bring yourself to say anything. The words are stuck in your throat, your heart pounding painfully in your chest.

“Y/N/N?” Lewis’s voice is soft, laced with concern, and just hearing it makes the tears you’ve been holding back start to fall. “Y/N/N, are you there?”

“Hi, Lewis,” you manage to choke out, your voice cracking as you try to keep the sobs at bay.

“Y/N/N…” He says your name again, but this time, it’s different. It’s like he’s trying to reach out and hold you, even though you’re miles apart. “Where are you? I’ll fly to you right now. Just tell me where you are, sweetheart.”

You close your eyes, the endearment hitting you like a wave. It’s been so long since someone called you that with genuine care. “I just… I just want to be alone,” you whisper, barely audible.

“Y/N/N, no,” he says, his voice more urgent now. “You’ve been through so much, and I’ve been worried about you for the longest time. Please, don’t shut me out.”

“Lewis, please…” You’re crying again, harder this time, the words coming out between broken sobs. “I’m… I’ll be okay. I just… I need time. I need to be alone. And I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry for not staying in contact with you. I should have…”

“Shhh, shhh, no, no, Y/N/N,” Lewis interrupts, his voice firm but gentle. “It’s not your fault, okay? It’s not.”

“But it is,” you protest weakly, your guilt and shame threatening to swallow you whole. “It is, Lewis. I pushed you away. I let him push you away.”

“Y/N/N, listen to me,” he says, his tone softer now, soothing. “It’s not your fault. You don’t have to carry that. I’m just so sorry you’ve had to go through this.”

You’re silent, your chest heaving with the effort of trying to breathe through the pain. You want to believe him, to let go of the guilt, but it’s so hard. Everything feels so heavy, so overwhelming.

“Y/N/N?” Lewis’s voice breaks through your thoughts, anchoring you. “Talk to me. Please.”

You swallow hard, trying to find the words, but all you can manage is a whisper. “I have to go.”

“No, Y/N/N, don’t…” He sounds desperate now, almost pleading. “Please don’t hang up.”

“Lewis, it’s okay,” you say, though your voice is shaking. “I just… I need to turn my phone off and go away for a while. I just wanted to hear your voice before I go.”

“Go?” Lewis’s voice is strained with worry. “Y/N/N, you’re scaring me. Please, don’t do anything—”

“I’m not going to harm myself, Lewis,” you quickly reassure him, though you can hear the fear in his voice. “I just need to be away from everything—the phone, social media, the public. All of it. I need space. I need silence. I need some peace.”

There’s a long pause on the other end, and you can almost feel his struggle, his desire to reach through the phone and hold you, to keep you from slipping away. “Okay, Y/N/N,” he finally says, his voice soft, filled with a tenderness that makes your heart ache. “I just want you to know that I care about you so much. I’m here for you, no matter what. Always.”

Your throat tightens again, and you fight to keep your voice steady. “I know, Lew. I know.”

The silence that follows is both comforting and painful, a shared moment of understanding and loss. You can almost see him, the way he would look at you with those concerned eyes, the way he would hold you until the pain wasn’t so suffocating.

“Goodbye, Lewis,” you whisper, your voice breaking.

“I’ll talk to you later, Y/N/N,” he replies, a quiet determination in his tone that you know so well.

The call ends, and you’re left staring at the screen, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on you. The hurt is still there, raw and painful, but there’s a small sliver of warmth now, too. Hearing his voice again, knowing he’s still there for you, gives you a fragile sense of comfort.

You turn off your phone, letting the silence envelop you. The world outside fades away, and for a moment, it’s just you in the quiet, trying to piece together the shattered fragments of your heart.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

For the past year and a half, you distanced yourself from everyone, including Lewis. You buried yourself in work, traveled alone, and avoided any situation that might bring back memories of what you lost. Your heart ached, but you told yourself it was better this way. Safer.

You threw yourself into your career, taking on projects that challenged and inspired you. You even went back to school. You traveled to places you had always dreamed of visiting, finding solace in the beauty of the world. You spent time in nature, hiking, meditating, and rediscovering yourself.

The media had a field day with your disappearance. Speculations ran wild, but you remained silent, focusing on your healing. You took up new hobbies, learned new skills, and invested in yourself. Slowly, you began to rebuild your confidence and sense of self-worth.

You emerged from the shadows stronger, wiser, and more determined than ever. Your hard work paid off, and you made a name for yourself. Your projects received critical acclaim, and your name was on everyone's lips for all the right reasons.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

Tonight was your first public appearance since exposing Jensen. The Met Gala was the event of the year, and you had been meticulously preparing for it. Your stylist had outdone herself, and when you looked in the mirror, you saw a vision of elegance and strength.

As you stepped onto the red carpet, the flashes of cameras and the shouts of fans filled the air. You walked with confidence, your head held high, and a smile that spoke of triumph and resilience.

"Y/N, you look stunning!" the photographers called out.

"Over here, Y/N! Give us a smile!"

You obliged, posing for the cameras and greeting the fans. It felt good to be back, to be seen and appreciated for who you had become.

The crowded after-party buzzed with energy, laughter, and the clinking of glasses. People mingled, dressed to the nines, chatting and dancing in the dimly lit room. The atmosphere was electric, but you found yourself standing still, feeling a mix of excitement and trepidation. You hadn't seen Lewis in years, and the sight of him now, just a few feet away, sent a shiver down your spine.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

Lewis Hamilton, your former best friend. Lewis had been your rock, your confidant, and your best friend. He had been there through thick and thin, always ready with a comforting word or a warm embrace. It had been years since you last spoke to him, even longer since you last saw him, and the sight of him brought back a flood of memories. You hesitated, unsure of what to do.

Lewis spotted you and made his way over. His presence was as comforting as ever, and when he reached you, he placed his hand on your arm and leaned in close.

"Hi, Y/N," he said softly, his voice a soothing balm to your nerves.

"Hi, Lewis," you replied, trying to steady your racing heart.

His eyes held a mix of emotions—concern, relief, and something deeper. His presence was both comforting and disconcerting. The familiar warmth of his hand on your arm, the concern in his eyes, and the gentle tone of his voice—all of it felt like home. And yet, there was something else, something new, stirring within you. It was an unfamiliar sensation, one that made your chest feel light and your heart beat loudly in your ears.

You stood there, staring into his eyes, and your mind began to drift back to the countless moments you had shared with Lewis. The late-night conversations, the laughter, the shared dreams and hopes. He had always been your anchor, grounding you when the world felt too overwhelming. You remembered the way he would listen to you, truly listen, making you feel heard and understood. No one else had ever made you feel that way.

Lewis had been there during some of the darkest times in your life. When you first broke into the entertainment industry and faced the pressures of fame, he was the one who kept you grounded. He had a way of making you see the bigger picture, of reminding you of your worth and potential. His encouragement had been a constant source of strength for you.

As your mind wandered, you recalled the moments of pure joy you had shared with him. The spontaneous road trips, the late-night drives, the silly arguments that always ended in laughter. Lewis had a way of making even the mundane feel magical. He brought a sense of adventure and excitement into your life, and you cherished every moment you spent with him.

And then there were the quieter moments, the times when words weren't needed. Sitting in comfortable silence, watching the sunset, or simply being in each other's presence. Those moments had a depth and intimacy that you hadn't experienced with anyone else. It was in those moments that you felt truly seen and understood.

But as your relationship with Jensen took over, you had drifted away from Lewis. The demands of your high-profile romance consumed you, and you found yourself distancing from the people who mattered most. Lewis had tried to be there for you, but you were too caught up in the whirlwind to notice. You regretted that now, more than anything.

Standing here, face to face with Lewis, you felt a pang of guilt. You had shut him out, pushed him away when you needed him the most. And yet, here he was, looking at you with the same warmth and concern as always. It was a testament to the kind of person he was, loyal and kind.

But there was something else in his eyes tonight, something that made your heart race. It was a look you hadn't seen before, a depth of emotion that went beyond friendship. It made you feel vulnerable, exposed, and yet strangely exhilarated. You weren't sure what it was, but it made your chest feel light and your heart beat loudly in your ears.

You tried to make sense of this new feeling. It was a mix of longing, anticipation, and a hint of fear. Longing for the connection you once had, anticipation for what could be, and fear of the unknown. You had spent so long guarding your heart, protecting yourself from more pain, that this new sensation was both thrilling and terrifying.

As you stood there, lost in your thoughts, Lewis gently guided you to a quieter corner of the room. The noise and chaos of the party faded into the background as you focused on him, on the way his presence made you feel safe and cherished.

"How have you been?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

You took a deep breath, trying to find the words to convey everything you had been through. "It's been... challenging," you admitted. "But I'm doing better now. I've been healing, focusing on myself."

He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'm glad to hear that. I've missed you, Y/N/N."

Those words hit you like a punch to the gut. You had missed him too, more than you could ever express. The realization made your heart ache with a mix of regret and hope.

"I've missed you too, Lewis," you said softly, your voice tinged with emotion.

There was a moment of silence as you both took in each other's presence. It was as if time had stopped, and all that mattered was this moment, this connection between you. You felt a spark, a flicker of something more, and it both excited and scared you.

Lewis reached out and gently took your hand in his. The simple gesture sent a jolt of electricity through you. His touch was familiar, comforting, and yet it ignited a new flame within you. You felt a warmth spread through your chest, a sense of belonging that you hadn't felt in a long time.

"I know things have been tough," he said, his voice low and earnest. "But you're stronger than you think, Y/N/N. You've always been strong."

Tears welled up in your eyes as his words touched a deep part of you. You had been trying to be strong for so long, to prove to yourself and the world that you could rise above the pain. Hearing Lewis acknowledge that strength made you feel seen and validated.

"Thank you, Lewis," you whispered, your voice breaking. "I don't know what I would have done without your support."

He squeezed your hand gently, his eyes filled with a mix of pride and affection. "You've always had it in you, Y/N. You just needed to believe in yourself."

His words resonated with you, echoing the journey you had been on over the past year and a half. You had fought hard to rebuild your life, to find yourself again. And now, standing here with Lewis, you felt a renewed sense of hope.

As the night went on, you found yourself drawn to Lewis in a way you hadn't expected. There was a new layer to your connection, something deeper and more profound. It was as if the time apart had only strengthened the bond between you, and now it was evolving into something more.

You couldn't deny the way your heart raced when he looked at you, the way his touch sent shivers down your spine. It was a feeling you hadn't experienced in a long time, and it scared you. But it also filled you with a sense of excitement and possibility.

You spent the rest of the evening talking, reminiscing about old times and catching up on each other's lives. The conversation flowed effortlessly, just like it always had. And yet, there was an undercurrent of something new, something that made your heart flutter.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

As the night drew to a close, you found yourself standing outside the venue, the cool night air a welcome contrast to the warmth of the party. Lewis stood beside you, his presence a comforting anchor in the midst of everything you were feeling. The two of you had talked throughout the evening, catching up in a way that felt familiar yet distant. There had been laughter, shared memories, and a surface-level exchange about how your lives were going. But there was something deeper weighing on your heart, something you couldn’t ignore any longer.

“Lewis,” you began, your voice soft and hesitant, “I’m sorry.”

He turned to you, his expression shifting from the relaxed smile he’d worn all evening to something more serious, more concerned. “What for?”

You swallowed hard, gathering your thoughts, knowing this was going to be difficult but feeling an overwhelming need to say it. “I know tonight we talked a little bit about our lives and how we’re doing, but I just wanted to say… I’m sorry. For not staying in contact with you throughout college as much as I should have.”

Lewis frowned, his eyes searching your face as if trying to understand where this was coming from. “Y/N, that wasn’t—”

“No, please, let me finish,” you interrupted, your voice shaking slightly as you pushed forward. “And then, when my career took off… You were there for me, supporting me, and I was with Jensen, and I cut you off.”

“Y/N, that wasn’t your fault,” he said quickly, his tone gentle but firm.

“I know,” you nodded, tears welling in your eyes. “But after everything that happened, I didn’t speak to you at all. It’s been three years, Lewis. Three years since it all fell apart, and tonight was the first time I’ve talked to you in years. And we didn’t even really talk. We just… surface talked. And you deserve more than that. So… I’m sorry.”

Lewis looked at you, his eyes filled with a mix of emotions—shock, hurt, confusion. Your words had opened up old wounds, bringing to the surface feelings he’d buried deep down. He was struggling to process it all, his heart racing as he tried to find something to say, to make sense of the flood of emotions you’d just unleashed. But before he could respond, you suddenly seemed to panic.

Your breath hitched as you realized the weight of what you’d just said, the vulnerability you’d exposed. “I—I shouldn’t have brought this up. Not here. Not now,” you stammered, your voice trembling. Without waiting for him to say anything, you turned and walked away, your steps quickening as you headed for your car. “I’m sorry,” you whispered again, but it was barely audible.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

Lewis stood there, frozen, watching as you slipped away into the night. His heart ached, the apology you’d left him with echoing in his mind. “She’s sorry?” he murmured to himself, the words feeling hollow and incomplete. There was so much more to say, so much more he wanted to understand, but you were gone before he could even begin to process it.

As you sat in your car, your hands gripping your purse, you felt a wave of regret wash over you. “What did I just do?” you whispered, your voice laced with self-recrimination. “That wasn’t the time or place… I’m such an idiot.” You stared blankly ahead, the headlights of passing cars blurring as your mind replayed the scene over and over. You couldn’t believe you’d brought up something so deep, so personal, in such a casual setting. And then, you didn’t even give him a chance to respond. You just walked away. Again.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

Meanwhile, Lewis remained rooted to the spot, his thoughts a chaotic swirl of confusion and hurt. Your words had ripped open old scars, bringing back all the pain of losing you, the ache of your absence in his life. And now, you’d said you were sorry, but what did that mean? Was that it? Was that all you had to say after years of silence?

“She’s sorry…” Lewis repeated, his voice barely a whisper. It wasn’t enough. It didn’t explain why you’d cut him off, why you’d let so much time pass without a word, and why you’d left him standing there without so much as an explanation.

As the chauffeur approached him, telling him his car was ready, Lewis felt a sudden rush of determination. He couldn’t let it end like this. Not again. He couldn’t let you walk away without at least trying to understand, without at least saying something—anything—that might bridge the gap that had grown between you over the years.

“Follow that black SUV that just pulled off,” Lewis instructed the driver as he climbed into the car.

“Okay, sir,” the driver responded, nodding as he pulled away from the curb, keeping the distance between the cars minimal.

Lewis leaned back in his seat, his mind racing. He didn’t know what he was going to say when he caught up with you, but he knew he had to try. He couldn’t let you disappear from his life again, not after everything you’d just unearthed, not after the years of silence and buried feelings that were now clawing their way to the surface.

He watched the road ahead, his heart pounding, as the chauffeur followed closely behind your car. He didn’t care how long it took, or what he had to do—he wasn’t going to let you slip away again. Not this time.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

You had just returned to your penthouse after the Met Gala after-party, exhausted yet exhilarated by the night's events. The gown you had worn now lay draped over a chair, and you had just managed to slip into a comfortable pair of sweatpants and a loose-fitting t-shirt. The clock on your bedside table blinked 3:40 AM. You were about to crawl into bed when a knock on the door startled you.

"Who the fuck?" you muttered to yourself, rubbing your eyes as you made your way to the door.

Opening it, you were met with the sight of Lewis, looking disheveled and intense. You blinked, trying to process the unexpected visitor.

"Lewis? What are you doing here?" you asked, your voice a mix of confusion and concern.

He didn't say a word, just walked past you into the penthouse and sat down heavily on your couch. You stood there for a moment, stunned. This was not like Lewis. Closing the door behind you, you walked over to him, trying to understand what was happening.

"Uh, okay. What's going on?" you asked, your voice tentative.

Before you could say anything else, Lewis turned to you, his eyes blazing with a mix of hurt and frustration.

"You're sorry... Sorry, Y/N? After all these years of not speaking to each other and being best friends, that's all you have to say to me? Sorry? I deserve more than that. No, fuck that, I need more from you," he said, his voice trembling with emotion.

Your confusion deepened, and you took a step back, trying to gather your thoughts. "Lewis, I—what do you want me to say? I mean, friends drift apart, a lot of shit happened" you began, but he cut you off.

"Friends?! Friends, Y/N? I've known you since we were kids. I know your favorite movie, your favorite color, your favorite flowers—yeah, flowers, because you have three. I know how you like your eggs cooked, I know you love ketchup but hate tomatoes on anything. I know you're allergic to mosquito bites, and you hate when people say something and then say 'never mind'. I know you, Y/N, everything about you. You're my person, my Y/N. We are not just friends, Y/N. At least not in my eyes."

You stood there, speechless, as his words washed over you. He continued, his voice growing more desperate. "So yes, I'm mad at your 'I'm sorry' after three years of not hearing from you, having to call your parents, friends, your siblings, hell, even your assistant to know how you are doing. So, sorry if I feel like the girl I've been in love with since forever deserves to give me more of a conversation."

His words hung in the air, heavy and charged with emotion. You stared at him, your mind racing to comprehend everything he had just said. There was a silence, thick and palpable, stretching between you both.

"You... love me?" you finally managed to whisper, your voice barely audible.

The room seemed to close in around you as you waited for his response, your heart pounding loudly in your ears.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

Lewis’s silence was deafening. He stared at you with a mixture of vulnerability and determination, his usual confidence stripped away by raw emotion. You could see the pain etched in his features, and it mirrored the tumultuous feelings inside you.

"Yes, Y/N," he said finally, his voice hoarse. "I love you. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. And it’s not just some fleeting feeling or a phase. It’s been there, in the background, every day, every moment we’ve been apart. I’ve watched you build your life, your career, and I’ve cheered you on from a distance. But it was never enough for me to just be on the sidelines. I wanted more, I needed more, and I didn’t know how to make you see that."

You took a deep breath, your mind reeling from his confession. The realization that Lewis’s feelings for you were not just platonic but something deeper, something that had been lingering all these years, was overwhelming. It made you feel exposed and vulnerable in ways you hadn’t anticipated.

"I... I didn’t know," you said softly, your voice trembling. "I had no idea you felt this way."

Lewis’s eyes softened slightly, but the pain was still evident. "How could you? I kept it hidden, buried under layers of friendship and missed opportunities. I thought maybe if I stayed out of the way, you’d figure it out on your own. But the longer I stayed silent, the more I realized that I was just hurting myself. And when you disappeared, I thought I’d lost my chance forever."

Your mind flashed back to those moments when you were close, when you shared everything with him. You remembered how he always seemed to be just a step away from being more than a friend, but you had never let yourself acknowledge it. Your focus had been on your own life, your career, and Jensen. Now, standing in front of Lewis, you saw the depth of what you had missed.

"I was so caught up in everything that happened with Jensen," you said, tears welling up in your eyes. "I pushed everyone away, including you. And now... now I’m not sure what to do with all of this. I didn’t know how much I missed you until you were back here, but I’m still trying to understand what this means."

Lewis stood up and walked towards you, his gaze never leaving yours. "What it means, Y/N, is that I’m here, laying it all out for you. I’m not asking for anything other than the chance to be honest with you. I need you to know how I feel, and I need you to decide if there’s a place for me in your life—beyond just friends."

The emotion in his voice was almost palpable, and you could feel the weight of his words pressing down on you. Your heart ached with the complexity of the situation. You had been through so much, and now faced with this raw, unfiltered declaration of love, you felt torn.

As the silence stretched between you and Lewis, you felt a tumult of emotions roiling within you. The weight of his confession had struck a chord deep inside, stirring feelings that had long been buried. His words had opened a floodgate, and as you stood there, the realization that you had harbored a deep love for him all along became crystal clear.

"I love you," you said softly, the words escaping your lips almost as a whisper but carrying the weight of years of unspoken emotion.

Lewis’s eyes widened in shock, his mouth slightly open as he struggled to process what he had just heard. "W-What?" he stuttered, his voice barely above a whisper. The disbelief in his tone was palpable, and for a moment, he seemed frozen, as if he couldn’t quite grasp the reality of the situation.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart and the tears that threatened to spill over. You locked eyes with him, your gaze unwavering. "The recent years apart made me realize just how much I truly missed you. I was so naïve and stupid when we were younger. I didn’t see how you looked at me or how you treated me. You were always there for me, through the good and the bad days. Even when I wanted to rot away, you were there, holding me up."

Tears began to slip down your cheeks, and you reached up to wipe them away with trembling fingers. "Tonight, seeing you again after all these years, my whole mind and body were flooded with emotions. It made me realize what I knew deep down: that I love you. I’ve always loved you more than a friend. I’m so sorry for all the pain I’ve put you through. I know I can’t make it up to you, and you have every right not to forgive me. But I am so sorry, Lewis. I love you. I really do. I’m in love with you."

Your voice broke as you spoke, and the tears you had been trying to hold back began to fall freely. The intensity of your emotions was overwhelming, and you felt a mixture of relief and sorrow as you poured out your heart.

Lewis’s eyes were wide with disbelief, and his own tears began to form as he processed your confession. He stood up slowly, the gravity of the moment clearly affecting him. Without a word, he walked towards you, his steps filled with purpose and urgency.

When he reached you, he cupped your face gently in his hands, his touch both tender and fervent. He leaned in, closing the gap between you, and his lips met yours in a passionate, urgent kiss. The kiss was filled with all the longing, love, and frustration that had been building up over the years. It was a kiss that spoke of pain and hope, of dreams lost and found.

When he finally pulled away, his eyes were filled with a mix of wonder and joy. "You have no fucking idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say those words to me," he said, his voice choked with emotion. "I’m not even sure if this is real or if my mind is just playing tricks on me."

You managed a soft, tearful laugh, the joy and relief mingling with the sadness of your confession. You reached up, gently cradling his face in your hands. His hands were still on your face, his touch grounding and reassuring. "It’s real, Lewis," you said with a trembling smile. "I love you, Lewis Hamilton. I always have."

Lewis’s expression softened, and he returned your smile with a mixture of adoration and relief. "And I love you, Y/N L/N. Always have, always will."

With that, the intensity of the moment took over, he closed the distance between you, his lips crashing onto yours in a fervent, passionate kiss. The kiss was deep and urgent, fueled by the years of longing and unspoken feelings that had been bottled up. Your bodies pressed together, the heat of the moment making you both lose track of everything but the electric connection between you.

As the kiss continued, Lewis’s hands roamed over your back, pulling you closer to him. You could feel the strength of his arms around you, and the warmth of his body pressed against yours. The kiss was a dance of passion and tenderness, each of you exploring the newfound closeness with a mix of fervor and delicacy.

With a sudden surge of energy, Lewis lifted you off the ground, his arms strong and steady as he cradled you against him. A surprised yelp of joy escaped your lips, but it was quickly swallowed by another deep kiss. You wrapped your legs around his waist, feeling the thrill of being held so securely.

Lewis pulled away briefly, his breath mingling with yours as he looked into your eyes with a mix of desire and determination. "Bedroom," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.

You nodded, guiding him towards the bedroom with a sense of excitement and anticipation. "It's this way," you whispered, your voice breathless. As he carried you through the penthouse, his lips never left your neck, trailing kisses that sent shivers down your spine.

When you reached the bedroom, Lewis gently laid you down on the bed, his gaze never leaving yours. The room was dimly lit, casting soft shadows that danced along the walls. The atmosphere was charged with a mixture of passion and vulnerability, the culmination of years of unspoken emotions.

As you lay on the bed, Lewis’s hands roamed over your body with a mixture of reverence and eagerness. He kissed your neck, moving slowly down towards your collarbone, his lips brushing against your skin with a tenderness that made your heart race. His touch was both soothing and electrifying, igniting every nerve in your body.

You reached up, your hands working on the buttons of his shirt with a sense of urgency. The fabric fell away, revealing his well-defined chest. You traced your fingers over his skin, savoring the warmth and strength beneath your fingertips. Lewis responded with a soft, appreciative murmur, his hands continuing their exploration of your body.

You continued to undress him, your movements growing more confident as you removed his pants and underwear. Each layer of clothing that fell away seemed to bring you both closer, the physical closeness mirroring the emotional connection that had finally been acknowledged.

His kisses were searing, each one more urgent than the last. His hands roaming your body with a hunger that left you breathless, igniting a fire wherever they touched. His mouth moved from your lips to your neck, kissing, nipping, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. You arched into him, the need for more overwhelming.

Without breaking contact, he settled between your legs, his hands sliding under your shirt, lifting it over your head. As you unclasped your bra, Lewis’s eyes were filled with adoration and desire. "You’re beautiful," he whispered, his voice husky with emotion. He leaned down, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, his tongue swirling around it while his fingers teased the other. You moaned, your back arching off the bed, the sensation sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

Lewis trailed kisses down your body, his mouth hot against your skin, until he reached the waistband of your panties. He looked up at you, his eyes locking with yours as he slowly pulled them down, the anticipation building with every second. He spread your legs wider, his breath hot against your most sensitive area. When his tongue finally made contact, you cried out, your hands gripping the sheets. He licked and sucked, his tongue exploring every inch, driving you wild with need.

"Fuck, you taste so good," he murmured against your skin, his voice husky with desire. "I can't get enough of you."

You gasped, the sensation of his mouth on you too much and not enough all at once. "Lewis, please," you begged, your voice trembling with need.

"Patience, love," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "I want to savor every moment."

He looked up, his eyes dark with lust, before diving back in, his tongue working in tandem with his fingers. He slid one, then two fingers inside you, curling them just right, hitting that perfect spot over and over again. Your body responded immediately, the pressure building, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. When the first orgasm hit, it was like a wave crashing over you, your body tensing, then shuddering as the pleasure rolled through you.

But Lewis wasn't done. He continued working his fingers in and out of you, relentlessly, not giving you a moment to come down from your high. His tongue flicked over your clit as his fingers worked you, the sensation almost too much. You could feel another orgasm building, the intensity of it taking your breath away. When it hit, it was even more powerful than the first, your body convulsing with the force of it. You screamed his name, your vision going white with the sheer pleasure of it.

"You taste so sweet," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "I could do this all night."

He pulled back slightly, his eyes locked on yours. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft with concern.

You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. "More than okay," you managed to say, your voice hoarse with pleasure.

He smiled, a wicked glint in his eye. "Good. Because I'm not done with you yet."

He climbed back up your body, capturing your lips in another searing kiss. You could feel his erection pressing against you, the need in him just as fierce as your own. Without breaking the kiss, you flipped him onto his back, straddling him, your hands running over his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath your fingers.

"You’re so sexy," you murmured against his skin, your voice thick with desire. "I can't get enough of you."

You kissed him, your lips trailing down his neck, over his chest, worshipping his body. You moved lower, taking his thick cock into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the tip before taking it deeper, your hand stroking what your mouth couldn't reach. He groaned, his hands tangling in your hair, his control slipping.

"God, Y/N," he groaned, his voice rough with need. "Feels so fuckin’ good, sweetheart."

You continued sucking his cock, taking your time to pleasure him until he was teetering on the edge.

But he didn't let you finish. He pulled you up, his eyes burning with lust. "I want to come in you," he said, his voice rough. He flipped you over, positioning himself at your entrance. He pushed in slowly, the sensation of him filling you making you gasp.

He moved with a steady rhythm at first, his thrusts deep and powerful. The pleasure built quickly, the sensation of him inside you driving you wild. "Who's my good girl?" he whispered in your ear, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "You like that, right?"

You could only moan in response, the pleasure too intense for words. He moved faster, his thrusts harder, each one hitting that perfect spot inside you. He leaned down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and biting gently. The combination of sensations was overwhelming, and you felt another orgasm building, the pressure intense. When it hit, it was like an explosion, your body shaking with the force of it.

But Lewis didn't stop. This time he put a pillow under your lower back, throwing your legs over his shoulders. His thrusts were relentless, powerful, driving you to the edge again and again. You could feel another orgasm building, the intensity of it almost too much to bear. When it finally hit, it was like a tidal wave, crashing over you, leaving you breathless, dizzy with pleasure.

Even though you had come, Lewis hadn't. He continued to move, his thrusts never losing their rhythm, overwhelming you with pleasure. You could feel another orgasm building, the sensation almost too much. When it hit, it was like a white-hot explosion, your body convulsing with the force of it.

"Lewis, I can't... it's too much," you gasped, your body trembling with the intensity of the pleasure.

"You can take it, baby," he whispered, his husky voice filled with love and lust. "You're a good girl, right baby. Take it for me.

Lewis finally let himself go, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his own release. When he came, it was with a deep groan, his body tensing, then shuddering as he emptied himself inside you. He collapsed on top of you, his breath hot against your skin, his body trembling with the aftermath.

He rolled off you, pulling you close, his arms wrapping around you. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his fingers tracing patterns on your back. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft, concern lacing his tone.

You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. "That was... incredible," you managed to say, your voice hoarse.

Lewis smiled, his eyes softening. "You were incredible," he said, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin. He kissed you gently, his lips soft against yours, a stark contrast to the rough passion from earlier.

He got up, disappearing into the bathroom for a moment before returning with a warm, damp cloth. He cleaned you up gently, his touch tender, his eyes never leaving yours. He tossed the cloth in the damper and climbed back into bed, pulling you into his arms.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked again, his voice filled with genuine concern.

"I'm perfect," you said, snuggling closer to him, your body still humming with the afterglow of your multiple orgasms.

Lewis’s fingers traced gentle patterns on your skin, his touch soothing and tender. He looked at you with a smile, his eyes filled with a mixture of contentment and adoration. "I never imagined this would happen," he said softly, his voice filled with wonder. "But I’m so glad it did."

You smiled back at him, your heart full and your soul at peace. "Me too," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I’ve never felt so complete."

He continued to hold you, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your back. "You're everything to me," he said quietly. "I want you to know that."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, the depth of his words touching you deeply. You had always known that there was something special between you, but hearing it aloud made it all the more real.

"You mean everything to me too, Lewis," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

Lewis smiled, pressing another kiss to your forehead. "Good," he said, his voice soft. "I want you to feel safe and loved, always."

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with emotion. "I do," you said, your voice thick with feeling. "I love you, Lewis."

He looked at you, his eyes shining with emotion. "I love you too," he said, his voice steady and sincere.

You lay there in each other's arms, the tension and passion of the night giving way to a comfortable silence, the only sound the soft beat of your hearts in sync. The world outside ceased to exist, and in that moment, there was only the two of you, wrapped up in each other's love and warmth.

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[lazycats-stuff]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do a part two where they meet kindergarten(y/n)’s “boyfriend” 

have a good day/night 

Yes and my apologies for a late reply. And yes, it's the same GIF. Why? I'm lazy to look for anything else.

Part 1 everyone - Batfamily x male!reader

Summary: Bruce wants to meet the supposed boyfriend and the parents.

Warnings: fluff, no one wants (Y/N) to grow up

The revelation of (Y/N) having a boyfriend sent everyone into a spiral. Everyone. Bruce still couldn't believe and when reflecting back on (Y/N)'s adorable revelation, Bruce was glad to be sitting down. And yes, him and Alfred had that scotch. How could they not? The baby of the family, not even a double digit age, has a boyfriend.

Dick still can't come to terms with it. He refuses to believe it. His baby brother... Having a boyfriend... No.

The rest were in almost the same mindset, but not so severe as Dick.

Either way, they were slowly, but surely, accepting the fact that (Y/N) has a boyfriend. Bruce has decided to set up a playdate with the supposed boyfriend. He needs to meet the boy and the boy's parents. He was going to make sure that the boy is worthy of dating (Y/N).

Hold on... (Y/N) is not a teen yet... He is still a toddler. Bruce sighed as he sipped his scotch slowly in his study, while (Y/N) was napping in his room. Why is Bruce in a mindset that (Y/N) is a teen? Probably because he has 4 teenage boys and those 4 do love testing his patience.

So, Bruce went on a solo pick up trip. He prohibited the boys from coming because none of them would be able to be calm. Damian would be him scary self, Jason would join him, Tim would look like he didn't sleep for days and it would look like Bruce abused him or something. And Dick? An emotional mess to say it lightly.

So Bruce waited patiently, watching as (Y/N) interacted with a boy... Holding hands... So there it is... The boyfriend. Bruce crossed his arms as he watched, trying to pinpoint the parents of the boy. And he found them.

A gay couple, one tall and one smaller. Adorable. (Y/N) noticed Bruce and ran to him, making Bruce smile. Bruce picked him up with ease.

" Hey (Y/N). How was your day? " Bruce asked as he adjusted (Y/N) in his arms.

" It was great. " (Y/N) said as he yawned, leaning his head on Bruce's chest, making Bruce chuckle.

" Someone's tired. Is that the boyfriend you were telling me about? " Bruce asked as he turned to look at the couple and their son. (Y/N) nodded, yawning in the process.

" I'm Bruce Wayne, nice to meet you. I would shake your hands, but they are full. " Bruce introduced himself to the couple, making them chuckle.

" No problem. I'm Theodore and this is my husband James. And this little boy is Dylan. " The taller one introduced the family and Bruce nodded.

" It seems our sons... Are dating. " Bruce said, rather hesitantly. He didn't know how he could approach this, how the other parent's feel about it.

" We know... James nearly passed out once he heard the excited, ' Dad, papa, I have a boyfriend. "

" My oldest wept once he heard it. One thought he was hallucinating since he is an insomniac. One who is usually stoic nearly lost it. And one is holding on by a thread. And I had to open up a bottle of scotch... So that's how we have been doing. " Bruce said, glancing down at his son, whose eyes were still closed.

" I did the exact same thing. " Theodore said picking Dylan up, adjusting his son in his arms.

" I was thinking about inviting you two to the manor, for a playdate. If our kids our... It's weird to say in a relationship, but you get my gist. " Bruce explained and the couple laughed.

" We'll be honored to come. " James said and Bruce reached into his pocket to give them a business card.

" My number's on it. Also, is Dylan allergic to animals? Cat and a dog? " Bruce inquired and both shook their heads.

" My second youngest has animals so I need to check. Just send me a text later and we'll go from there. " Bruce stated and the pair nodded.

" We'll do that. "

And the day finally came. Theodore and James came over with little Dylan and the two boys wasted no time in the big garden. Running, playing, Titus joining in, but being gentle... Bruce watched with Theodore and James, all of them sipping something. Bruce sipped some scotch, while they drank some red wine that Bruce pulled out of nowhere.

" So, if you don't mind me asking, what do you two do for a living? " Bruce asked, leaning back in his chair, crossing one of his legs over another.

" I'm a tattoo artist. " Theodore started and Bruce nodded. " I own my own shop. You might have heard about it, it's called, Majestic Ink. "

Bruce tilted his head as he thought about. " I have heard about it. Only nice things about it. " He said and Theodore smiled.

" And you James? "

" I own a chain of restaurants. " James explained and Bruce nodded.

" So we are all business owners. " Bruce noted and the two nodded. " Not an easy one. Especially bigger ones. " James laughed as he heard it and nodded.

" Tell me about it. I have to look after several restaurants and he looks after one shop. I envy him. " James admitted, playing with the stem of his wine glass.

" I envy small businesses. You don't have to worry about so many employees, you don't worry about your reputation, unless you are in a small town... I envy you Theodore. " Bruce admitted and Theodore chuckled at that.

" I don't envy you. All eyes are on you and if you mess up, everyone shits on you. Also, a quick question, how do you manage 4 teen boys? " Theodore inquired and Bruce laughed.

" That's the best part. You don't. You simply need patience and they need their daily dose of bickering. I bicker with them and they bicker with each other. I only tell them if they fight that they don't kill one another and no broken bones. I'm not driving them to the hospital. But, once (Y/N) into our lives, they became much more calmer, for his sake. " Bruce explained. " So I don't really worry about them fighting anymore. Physically at least. Verbally, they can throw it. " Bruce admitted, raising his glass of scotch up to his lips.

" We are just asking. We need to be prepared for Dylan. He is a sassy child already... I'm dreading the teen stage. " James rubbed his temple, laughing to himself.

" They are all going to put us in our early graves. " Theodore said, clearly referencing both (Y/N) and Dylan and the revelation of their... Relationship...

" You know, you know we love them and that they are doing what the rest of the kids do... They try to put us into our graves. " James concluded and Bruce let out a quiet amen.

" To our kids that are going to put us into their graves, " Bruce raised his glass, Theodore and James following his lead.

" And giving us gray hairs. " James added and the trio of fathers laughed, letting out a cheerful hear hear and then sipped their drinks.

" Dad! " (Y/N) yelled, running towards him. Bruce got prepared to pick him up as he had done this before. Bruce picked (Y/N) up, propping him up on his lap.

" Yes? "

" I want to marry Dylan! " (Y/N) said with a smile on his little face.

Bruce raised his glass again, nodding to Theodore and James before downing his scotch.

Kids do put you in your grave and give you gray hairs.

" Where are my brothers? " (Y/N) asked all of a sudden. Bruce might have gave them money to go shopping for the day so they leave the manor and not scare the poor boy.

" They have some plans, but they'll be back soon. "

Thank God scotch has managed soften the blow the wedding revelation.

Thank God that Dick isn't around to hear it.

[petew21-blog]

Swapcation: After the escape Part 2

You would think that this is Matthew's body and that I stayed in him till the end of my days. Unfortunately no. Althought his body was amazing and it was also my first body I really soon (like few minutes after I shot loads of cum on the grass) found out that my family was tracking me.

"I could already hear the helicopters searching the forest. The tracker must be off and showing the a larger circle. I still don't know where it could be. Is it under his skin? I didn't find anything in his clothes. And all I have is my personal stuff... I'm such an idiot. It's my phone. Why the hell did I bring my phone?"

I threw it in the opposite direction that I was gonna run. And then I ran. But I was really exhausted after the night run from the car accident. And my head kinda hurt. Matthew must have hurt himself too. So I slowed down. I didn't hear the helicopter anymore. But there I can't stay in this forest forever and certainly not in this body.

I made a decision. The first person I meet I swap with. They'll get a beautiful manly and young body.

And I was pretty luck. I met a hiker who was on his journey for a few days.

"Heyyyy man, you're also on PCT?"

What the hell is PCT. Shit I heard that before. Oh, it's Pacific Crest Trail. Perfect. If he won't notice me switching with him, he could continue with this body all the way to Canada. Who knows when he would find out, but that wouldn't be my problem anymore. Matthew's and his body were almost the same size. I mean... he was just as hot as Matthew

"Heyyy, no. I'm actually from around. Just went to the forest."

We chatted some more and I could see him getting closer. He was definitely straight, but I could get him when we were saying goodbye. Maybe by offering him my hand. I didn't have a chance to test that yet, but my family said, that the victims of body swap always end up in a short state of confusion that gives you time to leave. Like an evolutionary advantage for a predator. Or maybe a parasite?

I wished him good luck and offered him my hand, but he refused.

"Nah man, I'm a hugger. Bring it in"

Shit shit. We went for it, my naked torso and his in just a white top touching. I then activated my power. I opened my eyes and was standing on the other side. Matthew's body looked confused, but he took his bag. And started leaving.

"Wait man, you got my bag by accident. Here" I gave him his bag. I need my stuff and he needs his to survive the PCT. He wouldn't have made it if he found out what kind of useless shit I'm bringing with me.

I walked for over a mile away from the forest path. I was now somebody new. Somebody my family didn't know. I could now leave into the city and live my life forever. For the second time I felt calm. I was before when I was full of adrenalin in Matthew's body and then got to explore his body for a bit. But back then, I didn't even had the chance to look at everything I needed.

I first inspected my new abs. "Matthew had a set just like this, but it hits different in this body. This body has amazing veins going down to my crotch." The hair trail everywhere from neck all the way down there. My skin shriveled as I went over the small hills of muscle hidden beneath my skin. "My belly button, so sexy. Maybe I should swap with some horny gay who would want my body and inspect it myself."

Then I inspected my new hairy and veiny arms. Looking at each finger one by one, touching the hair, licking it. Every finger tracing each vein down to my armpit.

The sexy hairy armpit that was protected by a gigantic biceps. A biceps that could squish heads. A biceps that I got to lick all over. Smell the armpit with the beautiful smell of a man's sweat. The pheromones were hitting me hard. Hard enough that it caused my new dick to get hard as well.

"Now or never"

I swear that I thought Matthew's dick was one of the most beautiful cocks I have seen so far, but let me tell you, that this freaky hairy monster, veins look like popping out, the beautiful purple head of my cock releasing precum, balls the size of plums. How amazing is this.

I spit in my hand and started jerking off. Fuck, I couldn't even start slowly, I had to jerk off so fast. The rush was fantastic.

I sat next to a tree. Still jerking of and with my other hand licking my finger, pushing it in my mouth. How amazing it's gonna be to blow someone with the bearded mouth.

My pecs bouncing in the rythm of the masturbation. Up and down. Sweat glisthening on the, running down the middle over my abs all the way through to my massive cock. My massive cock that my massive hand jerked furiously.

I shot my cum, but shot some of it into my hand. The rest must have flown several feet away from me.

The white cum sticking my fingers was tempting me. I put it in my mouth and licked my fingers clean. As I sat there, breathing out. I laughed, but my relaxing moment was interrupted by some hikers coming my way. I put on the clothes rapidly and headed out west.

I headed to the nearest town and downloaded Grindr. "Time to find some new boy toy to fuck." I said aloud. Yeah, if I said that now in my body no one would ever believe me. I was, and I guess I still am, a virgin. So, I think it's the great time and great body to change that.

I checked out some profiles and found one near me. We met at the park. My torso still bare from the forest adventure. It was a guy in his early 20s. Slightly twinkish, but cute.

"Girrrrlll, I thought you were catfishing me. This is amazing. How did you get this big?" he almost screamed as he went to pinch my left tit.

"Eh, you know. Healthy lifestyle and lot of gym"

"And a lot of cardio, I presume?"

"How about we find out if I had enough cardio today?"

We got in his shower. Both our dicks horny from the view. We kiss passionately. His hands were still over me and over my pecs. Touching my hairy legs and arms. "Let's dry ourselves and go to bed. I need you body so much!"

He got out from the shower and looked back at me.

"I wish I had a body like that. I would enjoy it so fucking much to be this big"

Idea popped in my head. Maybe he would be quiet about it. I could use a friend now that would help me stay in secrecy to avoid my family. Yeah, I wanted to explore my new body from some else before.

I dried myself and followed him to the bedroom. He was ready on the bed. I didn't give him much time to think about it.

He was confused at first still looking at me to find out what was happening.

This was my view. "Fucking hell, I look amazing. Look at all those hair. And those pecs are almost bigger than your head." I said as he still looked at me confused.

I got behind him. "I wanted to do this since I got in that body. So hot. And daaamn. Look at that hairy ass. That's all mine?"

"Man, you and me. We're gonna have SO much fun in the following days."

It seemed like he started to comprehend what was happening. He looked at himseld and then immediately went for a kiss. During the sex, we kept swapping there and back. The confusion on his side waas gone so we didn't have to stop to let him rest and find out what's happening again.

I woke up with the view I was familiar with. Happy to be big again. The twink lying next to me and sleeping peacfully.

"I don't think I'll be leaving any time soon." caressing my sweet pecs while saying that

Part 1:

[krypticcafe]

Okay so we’ve got the boys reacting to being called babygirl, but how would their partner react to being babygirlified??

When they call you babygirl (COD:MWII)

rating: mature

character(s): GN!Reader, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John Price, John "Soap" McTavish, Simon "Ghost" Riley, König, Gary "Roach" Sanderson, Hound

warning(s): language, suggestiveness, angst, a smidge of a graphic injury, general military violence, no beta read haha

a/n: reminder to all my gn and masc readers that I'm using babygirl in a gender-neutral context and so is the reader!! Also, I can't guarantee that it'll all be lighthearted as the last part but I can guarantee y'all eatin good tonight :)))

Previous

Gaz

Funnily enough, he purrs it out when you come to bed after a long day of work, pulled into his side the moment you laid down.

"How's my babygirl doing? Good, yeah?"

You're stunned, surprised at the fact that he even used it at all.

He's amused by your reaction and presses a soft kiss to your head, making a mental note to use it more often like this.

Like him, you try not to fall too into the feeling, but he already knows the effect on you.

Luckily for you, he doesn't abuse it, but almost torments you with it, using it in private or a soft tone that only you can hear.

But you like it. It's intimate, a little special in how he uses it to get you smiling or flustered. Much like a lot of other aspects of your relationship, it's something you can trust him with and be respectful about.

Most of the time, you'll find him using it on a sleepy morning, arms around your waist with his chest against your back and his face nestled on your shoulder blade, mumbling a "mornin'" or a "how'd you sleep last night?"

For him, it's best when he can get real close to you and just pour his affections out with that simple little nickname.

He watches you stumble out of bed while he pours a cup of coffee for the two of you and smiles innocently when he offers it.

"Sleep well last night, baby-"

"You are so damn lucky I love you." You warn, taking the cup and rolling your eyes when he laughs.

Don't worry, he knows he's one lucky bastard.

Price

"Atta soldier, how's my babygirl holding up?"

He's watching proudly from afar while you finish pummeling through a group of enemies like it's nothing.

"Doin' alright Captain, we're clear to push on." You respond with confidence.

But you don't tell him that his comment through the comms alone nearly threw you off your rhythm.

He uses it again when you're all at the pub celebrating another landmark success, subtly bragging while half-drunk about how you carried the team today.

A part of you is mortified not just because Price tends to open up a little too much when he's drunk, but also because you hated the fact that you liked hearing him call you that in the first place, how you didn't need a drink for your mouth to get dry and your face warm. Not to mention it was in public—practically a declaration that you belonged to him.

Not that you minded.

His grip grows firm on your side while he speaks with admiration, your face grows warm since one, he was calling you that in front of so many others, and two, he didn't just hand out praise to anyone so when he meant it, he really meant it.

Later when you're both headed to your shared quarters, he asks, "So were you havin' a fever earlier or..?"

Of course he noticed.

You explain to him it just caught you off guard, that's all. Especially when he says it in such a way.

In the back of your head, you hoped he'd be too drunk to remember this in the morning but knowing him...

"I see... well then, we'll just have to put that to the test tonight, won't we?"

You have no objections.

Soap

"There's my babygirl, been lookin' for that smile since we been back."

After a particularly rough mission, Soap had been glued to your side for the past hour or so, talking it out with you.

When a particularly dumb joke of his finally cracked you, that's when he said it.

You groan, still laughing while leaning your head into his shoulder, muttering about how "irresistibly insufferable" he could be sometimes.

"So you admit I'm irresistible?"

That gets him a lighthearted punch on his chest and some more hearty laughter out of the two of you.

You now find him using it here and there to get a smile out of you. He's got an eye for when you're a little more tense or stressed than usual.

He doesn't use it in excess either, he's sweet and soft about it, not as casual with the pet names as some would think.

Oh, but don't take it for granted because he can and will tease you. You like to blame him for your ability to keep your guard up for so long and for his ability to somehow find new ways to break it again and again.

And while you think it's a horribly corny pet name, you know he has nothing but good intentions, and you can't ignore the way it makes your heart flutter.

He loves it too, he's a sucker for giving and receiving cheesy nicknames, stuff that really gets a reaction out of you but doesn't cross the line.

"If you don't like it, then why dinnae you give me a different thing to call you?" Cue the McTavish SmirkTM, and you wonder what he has planned this time. And like how you got yourself into this relationship- you decide to humor him.

"You already call me 'love' and 'sugar', I don't think you need any more to torment me with, McTavish."

"I don't know... I'm thinkin' 'my fiancé' sounds pretty damn good."

"But I'm not your-"

Oh.

Oh.

Ghost

You're thrown into the air and onto the ground after a blast hits, one so loud that you're left hearing nothing for several seconds.

Out of the chaos, you hear Ghost call your name, and you try to stand only to fall back into a pair of arms.

"It's me- it's me." He lowers you down onto his lap and looks over you, "Fucking hell... what did they do to you?"

You realize what he's talking about when you try to hold yourself while gasping for breath, but find a cold metal rod jutting out of your abdomen.

"Okay, I'm gonna get you up, we're gonna get to the others-" He halts when you scream out in pain and lowers you back down.

"Nonono- please Simon, it hurts, it fucking hurts so much I can't-"

His heart breaks at the sound of you choking on words, holding you closer, and trying to reassure you (and himself because he's never had his heart pounding so hard and his mask feel so damn suffocating and god dammit he can't afford to lose someone again-)

"I know, I know, I got you babygirl, I got you. It's alright now, but I'm not leaving you like this. You're gonna be alright, it's gonna be okay."

You can only nod your head, tightening your hold around his neck when he carries you. It feels pathetic every time you let out a yelp or sob of pain, but Simon's patient, he's constantly giving you reassurance and letting you know that there's just a bit more left to go. At some point, you let exhaustion take over your body.

Thankfully, you wake up laying in an infirmary bed, with a sleepless Simon at your side. "How are you feeling?" He asks.

"Could be better," You cringe at how hoarse your voice is and thank Simon when he gives you a cup of water, "You seem worse than me to be honest."

"Yeah? 'n whose fault is that? Oh right, the one who took a pipe to the stomach."

Rolling your eyes, you try to remember the last things you saw before blacking out and smirk to yourself when it comes back to you.

"So, since when were you a "babygirl" type of guy? Is it a common thing in Manchester, or are you just that soft for me, Lieutenant?"

"Maybe I should've just left you there." He groans, and you scoff, laughing as you shove at him. Even if he's shit with words, you know deep down he would never have the guts to do so.

Only a fool would.

König

Let's be honest, he'd only really say it after you've said it to him.

You don't push him, knowing he just has trouble trying to get a natural feel for it and it's not a huge deal. Plus, you already adore all the other names he's given you, most of which are more familiar and natural for him to say with them being in his native language.

Unfortunately, one night at the bar, you find someone else directing the particular nickname at you.

"Hey babygirl, what's a cutie like you doing all alone here?"

But fortunately, you were in fact, not alone.

Konig rises from the barstool behind you and his height alone should have the person pissing their pants.

"You should mind whose 'babygirl' you're talking to, arschloch."

You know what? Close enough.

You turn back to check on König and wow, that. Is. A. Sight.

König's chest rises and falls with his aggravated breathing and you find yourself lost in how intense his glare is while he watches the person scamper away. His words are on a loop in your head with how the rasp and snarl in his voice have your stomach twisting and your heart running laps.

You'd never admit it to him, but you have to repress all of your urges whenever he gets like this on the battlefield. Christ.

"You alright?" You breathlessly sigh, wrapping a hand around his.

His tension instantly melts at your touch and you smile at that.

"I should be asking you that..." He murmurs, almost ashamed as if he had any reason to be.

"Oh I'm more than fine now."

An idea comes to you.

"I'd be even better if you can tell me what you just said to them, perhaps in private? I don't think I can hear with how noisy it is in here" You snicker, tugging him closer.

You just absolutely know he's burning under that hood when his eyes go wide.

"I'm just kidding, liebe," you chuckled, taking another sip of your drink, "But honestly? That was kinda hot. Whaddya say we get outta here and cuddle tonight?"

His response is a quick and eager nod, making you laugh and whisk him away to your quarters.

Roach

Ah if only you weren't such a curious soul.

You overheard some of your teammates call each other "babygirl", which made you wonder if there was a sign for it.

You blurted out this question to your boyfriend, not thinking much of it because, hey, you always asked him about signs you weren't sure of or hadn't quite learned yet, or in this case, pure curiosity.

He stares at you dumbfounded before signing the words.

"Oh, so it's literally just 'baby' and 'girl'?"

He nods, "Yeah. What, do you want me to start calling you that or something?"

He lets out stifled laughs when he sees the look of realization on you before you throw your burning face in your hands.

"I'm a damn idiot."

"I know you are."

You nearly strangle him for that comment.

You make him forget about the conversation, but he keeps the thought in the back of his head for future reference because oh you are so gonna regret this >:)

After a mission, he comes up to you and asks, "How'd it go? My babygirl didn't get too roughed up this time, did you?"

"No, I'm good, wasn't a huge bust-" You stop organizing your gear right then and there, mentally replay what he signed, and slowly turn your head, narrowing your eyes at him. "-you little shit! I told you forget about that!"

"But you like it, don't you? You're trying so hard not to smile right now!" He gushes.

"Sanderson, I'm gonna kill you!" You run after him, chasing him around before tackling him down to the ground.

"I could get used to this." He muses, "Maybe you should call me babygirl, kinda suits me too. Oh! We should get matching patches, don't you think?"

"..."

"Wait where are you going—"

Hound

This time, you had been separated from your team for days after a mission had gone horribly wrong, with no way to communicate otherwise you'd all be jeopardized before you could be rescued.

You didn't even know if there was a rescue.

Just your luck, an enemy had you cornered with the audacity to use your own gun against you. And it was your last one, too. You brace for impact only to see them get knocked out while a voice called out your name.

It was Hound. They immediately run up to you, checking you all over, hands hovering around you worriedly, "Did he hurt you? Christ, they told me that you'd be in danger if I went but shit, how am I supposed to wait when—"

They stopped the moment you began to tremble, instantly pulling you into a tight embrace, and tucking your head in their shoulder.

"Hey hey, c'mere, it's okay. I'm here now, you're gonna be alright, it's okay." He softly repeats, and you weep in relief. "Oh babygirl... they can't hurt you anymore, I promise."

It was warm and safe.

You were warm and safe.

Hound spends the evening tending to you (you told them they didn't have to, it wasn't like you had major injuries), doing your paperwork for you, getting you food, and cleaning you up.

But all you want is to get your mind away from the events of the past few days, a distraction to feel good, feel safe, and feel loved, and he happily complies with your every need for the night.

"Figured you'd need some help after last night... sorry about that." They sheepishly mumble.

You wake up the next morning in your shared quarters, sore but in a pleasant way. The door opens and it's none other than your partner with a plate from the mess hall.

You pull them down for a quick kiss and thank them, telling them not to worry about it as you take the plate.

"You need anything else babygirl, or-"

You choke on a piece of scrambled egg, and they're already rubbing your back, holding back laughter.

"Whoops, should've waited until you were done, I didn't think you'd get so- I mean I thought after last night—" He's practically giggling now and while you'd normally relish in such a rare sight, you whine at him.

"But seriously, if you need anything, I'm there in a heartbeat."

You nod and thank whatever higher being out there for such a patient partner.

a/n pt2: hope the ghost and hound bbygirls enjoyed the "creative liberties" I took because I know I did teehee- anyways lmk how y'all feeling after that :)))

[azrielbrainrot]

To the Last Drop

Pairing: Vampire!Rhysand x F!Reader

Kinktober 2024: Overstimulation

Description: You let Rhysand test your body's limits.

Warnings: Smut, vaginal sex, overstimulation, blood, dum/sub undertones, dirty talk

Word Count: 1,5k

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

It started out as any other day with you sitting at the kitchen table, eating your cereal while he drank his blood. In the beginning of your relationship things like that used to freak you out a bit, the smell getting to you sometimes, but you had gotten used to it long ago, and prefered sharing your meals even if they were so different in nature. You were still half asleep, content with listening to his gentle, deep voice as you chewed slowly.

He had been telling you about one of Morrigan and her girlfriend's escapades, about how they quite literally fucked and drank each other's blood until they dropped, and how happy his cousin sounded as she told him about it the night before over dinner. When you told him you should try to do the same one of these days he simply chuckled and dismissed you with a “It's not like I can do that with you.”

Realistically you knew that he meant no harm and that he was right, you were human after all. Rhys had always said that he had to be careful with you, that he couldn't let himself get lost in the pleasure or in your taste in case he took too much or even hurt you. You were more than aware of your body's limitations when compared to a vampire's, but your pride didn't allow you to let go of that comment.

You were thinking about it the whole day, the words repeating over and over in your mind, unable to focus on anything as thoughts about how he would be better off with another vampire consumed you. He noticed it as soon as he came back home too, immediately asking what was wrong. Thinking back now you probably should have explained your feelings properly and let him reassure you instead of insisting you could take anything he gave you and begging him to let you prove it.

“Are you still with me, darling?”

A weak moan escapes you at the sound of his voice, the only answer you could manage in this state. You struggle to even open your eyes, but you can't see his face properly through the tears anyway so there was no use in trying. All you could do in that moment was breathe through the unbelievable pleasure he was putting you through.

Rhys sounded apprehensive when you first told him what you wanted to do, scared he would go too far, but as soon as his cock and teeth slipped inside you all those worries evaporated, a wicked smirk spreading across his face.

“Thought you could take it,” he taunts, violet eyes burning into yours as his hips moved incessantly, a ring of cum forming around his cock from how full you already were, the noises echoing around the room with each thrust sounding downright sinful.

“I can,” you manage to whisper, opening your eyes and blinking away the tears, wanting to appear as strong as you could, too stubborn to admit defeat so soon.

Aside from how many times he had made you cum, and the sensitivity spreading throughout all of your body because of it, you were also a bit dizzy from how much blood he had taken. He only bit you three times if you remembered correctly, and you know he didn't take as much blood as he could have, but it was enough for your movements to become sluggish and thoughts to cloud even further. You should really tell him to stop.

“Are you sure?” You nod immediately, using most of your remaining strength to grab the back of his neck and pull him down for a kiss, somehow still insatiable. He gives into your silent request with a chuckle, kissing you passionately, letting you taste your own blood staining his lips, grinding into you harder just so he could swallow the needy mewls you let out.

When he pulls away, a string of saliva connecting you for a moment, he leans back so he can watch the mess he made of you, studying the bite marks on your neck, already closing up thanks to the venom in his teeth. Usually he only gets to bite you once so he can better control how much blood he takes, but since you were begging him so beautifully, he kept going, biting you on each side of your throat and then closer to your chest, leaving imprints of his sharp teeth on your delicate skin.

The wounds had long since closed up, but there was still some blood that he couldn't drink in time and ran down. A moan escapes him at the sight, wasting no time in leaning down and lapping up every last drop, moving to suck and bite your nipples when he was done, grinding into your cunt all the while, only stopping when he feels you cumming around his cock again, whimpers falling past your lips.

He can't help his smirk from growing when he looks back up at you, unfocused eyes trying their hardest to hold his gaze. You still managed to find enough strength in the middle of all the pleasure to possessively study the blood coating his face, knowing it was your blood that drove him wild.

“You'd do anything for me, wouldn't you?” The immediate nod brings a proud look to his eyes, his chest warming despite the absence of blood pumping through his heart, watching the way you tried to keep up with him, not knowing there was absolutely no way he would ever leave you, especially not because you weren't a vampire. “My little human is so good to me, so perfect.”

He kisses you again, never getting enough of your taste and the feeling of your soft body against his. If you knew just how much he truly wanted you, and the things he would do to keep you in his arms, you probably would run far away from him instead of so desperately trying to pull him closer.

Rhysand could live under your skin and not feel close enough to you, everything about you had always drove him completely insane, which is why he had to be so careful with you. He never imagined a simple comment would result in this, he had wanted to reassure you as soon as the words left your mouth, but the way you were begging him to fuck you and the determined look in your eyes made him snap.

In reality he probably could still go on a while longer, could taste your blood until it ran out and pumped you full until he physically couldn't anymore. You had already passed your limit though, and as pretty as you looked all fucked out and covered in cum and blood, he didn't want to actually hurt you or cause you too much discomfort.

“Just need you to cum one more time, my love,” he whispers gently against your lips, “With me.”

It only takes a few more thrusts and some whispered praises for you to follow his command - as overstimulated as you were it wasn't a surprise. He cums right after you, a shudder running through his body as a broken moan escapes him, trembling at the way your cunt clenched around his cock.

Peppering little kisses around your face and neck, he waits for both of you to properly come down before pulling out as gently as possible, soothing your whimpers at every little touch. He couldn't help but coo at the pretty mess between your legs, licking up the trail of cumming leading to your abused hole and tasting the both of you. You push him away weekly, closing your legs around his head and he chuckles, dropping an apologetic kiss to your stomach before hovering you again, finding you breathing softly with closed eyes, a more than sated expression on your face.

“Good?” You open your eyes at the question, smiling weakly up at him and nodding. “Still breathing?” This makes you glare half-heartedly, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing him down so you could bite his lip vindictively. He can't help but smile at how cute you are.

“You know, I love you more than anything right?”

Nodding again, you kiss the same place you just sunk your teeth into. “I know,” you sigh, voice hoarse after the night you had, “I just want you to be happy, don't want you to feel like I'm holding you back in any way.”

“No one in this world makes me happier than you,” he says, leaning down to drop one more chaste kiss to your lips, “I told you before you can't get rid of me.”

“You got it all wrong,” you murmur, tightening your hold on him, “you're the one who can't get rid of me.”

A shiver runs down his spine at the conviction behind your words, how damn near threatening you sounded even while you were holding him so sweetly. Gods, you truly were perfect for him.

[captain-joongz]

now we've officially entered the second half of hard hours week, and this is our last scenario with only one member! for the last two scenarios i have something special cooked up for you <3

enjoy this little pervy San scene! as always, inbox is open darlings! <3

HARD HOURS THOUGHTS

warnings: voyeurism, perv!San, dub-con, masturbation (f. and m.)

after having enough of problems and awful neighbours at your old place, moving to a new house was the best decision you could have made - especially since your new neighbour San was just so kind and welcoming

since you worked from home, every morning you'd see San pass by your living room window on his way to his car, and you'd wave at each other and give each other encouragements for your days, and when he returned in the evening, he'd tell you all about his day while you shared a friendly cup of tea

to you San just seemed to be a perfect gentlemen, and the nicest man ever

what you weren't aware of though, was that not only he saw into your living room, he also had a comfortable view into your bedroom - you didn't know because the window was in his laundry room - who would ever think of being watched from the laundry room? but that's exactly what San did

you'd hit a dry season in your life, the only pleasure was the one you gave yourself, and maybe you should have been more careful touching yourself and fucking yourself on your dildo with your window open when San's house was so close to yours, but you knew his bedroom was on the other side, it would be silly for him to catch you!

so you had no idea how many evenings the man spent hidden in his laundry room, desperately jerking off into his hand while watching you bounce on your dildo in your room, listening to your sweet moans as you came, and getting his cum all over himself in his excitement

but you'd never know, because in the morning he was his usual soft, shy, reserved self, making you laugh with stupid jokes and blushing under your eyes. you never saw the darkness that swirled in his orbs whenever he looked at you and thought back to how you made yourself cum the night before, never noticed how his cock would harden anytime you stretched or bent over in front of him

and you tested his limits, with every day he was closer to jumping you and fucking you until all you knew how to do was drool and scream his name, the thin thread of his self-control and patience would be so close to snapping

like the day he got an even closer look of your wet little cunt as you played with it. that day you just couldn't help yourself, you were so needy and you couldn't wait to go to your bed, so you started touching yourself on the couch while some movie played on your TV

San didn't mean to watch that, he wasn't looking for it, but as he was passing your window to throw out trash he caught a glimpse of you and immediately was mesmerised. it was like you were serving yourself up on a silver platter to him, showing your pretty pussy to the window like you wanted him to watch you

and so watch he did, standing outside your window in the little alley between your houses, squeezing himself desperately through his jeans while you fucked yourself with your fingers

he could almost hear your helpless whines because your fingers weren't enough, he could almost imagine you calling for him to pleasure you better, he WISHED he could hear the wet squelch of your cunt or your moans as you came, but he was stuck with only looking in

that evening ended with you cumming your mind out on your couch, unaware of the man scurrying home so he could cum in his fist instead of his pants

and the next day, you both said your morning hellos like always, amicably smiling at each other. and when you saw the animalistic glint in his sharp smirk and dark eyes, you shuddered with repressed attraction, but you ultimately were none-the-wiser

but in that moment, he truly started to plot that the next time there's fingers in your pretty pink cunt, they will be his

divider by @cafekitsune

[mochinomnoms]

Riddle + Yuu’s telepathy for an hour+ Floyd next to him= Why is Riddle looking like he is about to have another Ob?

He now know Floyd is into him, more wild if Floyd has the same 18+ thoughts as Jade. Riddle’s hair is becoming white and his cheeks go as red as his hair because Floyd is also thinking of the most domestic scenarios with him.

He can’t catch a fucking break.

Worse if Yuu and Jade are there. Holy fuck Riddle will die.

When you begged Riddle to let you test your new power and transfer your telepathy over for just a class period, he was just trying to be a good friend.

And he was mildly curious how your mind reading powers worked. He was under the assumption that you had to choose a specific person and listen into their thoughts for it to work. Which made your predicament with Jade all the more humorous to him. If you were so bothered by it all, then why did you listen in?

My cute little Riddle~ Aaaah, you're so bright. So red. I love your red hair, your red cheeks when your mad. Should I call you Goldfishie again? To piss you off? So you can yell at me with those pretty gray eyes and voice? Aha, maybe I should~

I think I should beg for the Prefect's forgiveness after this. I am so, so sorry. I didn't realize how bad it was.

Riddle had no clue how you handled the influx of noise, color, and feeling bashing into your head all day. It was like having a horn ringing straight into his ear while a truck's headlights flashed right in his eyes.

Even worse than that? He could make out the singular, most irritating noise, louder than the rest.

My little goldfish, my little tyrant, my little Riddle~

The bane of his existence. The enforcer of Octavinelle. Currently, the third-tallest student at Night Raven College.

"Uh, Riddle?"

Riddle took a deep breath, closing his eyes and turning towards Silver with a polite smile.

"Yes, Silver?"

Silver opened his mouth, closed it again as he paused, and opened it again.

"Are you alright?"

Cute little goldfish~ So bright and red~

"Yes." Riddle ignored the heat pooling under his face. "Why do you ask?"

"You're incredibly red right now. I think even your hair looks pink compared to your face."

Riddle made a strangled sounding noise as he buried his head into his arms and hid against the desk.

"Riddle?" Silver sounded concerned, and Riddle could sense his hands hovering over him, like he wasn't sure if Riddle needed a pat on the back, or to be left alone.

"I'm fine, I just need a moment—"

"Little Goldfishie~"

Riddle bolted up, his head nearly smacking against Floyd's chin based on the way the teal-haired man felt backwards.

"Wow! Cool it Goldfishie!" Aw, he's so cute! "Just tryin' to say hi~"

The image of himself in Floyd's arms and lap, nuzzled up against each other as the other contentedly played with his hands flashed in his head.

My goldfishie! My little red tyrant! My Riddle! Mine, mine mineminemineminemine—

"NO I'M NOT!"

The room went silent, everyone looking over at the group of three. Noticing that Riddle and Floyd were interacting, everyone shrugged and resumed their conversations after a moment.

"Uh, what?" Floyd looked and sounded confused. Now that Riddle was paying attention to him though, he could make out a soft look in his eye.

Aw, are you red 'cause you're sick? Is my mean little mate sick?

Mate? Mate?! MATE! OH GODS NO!

Do I gotta take you to the nurse? I can do it! Anything for my future mate! Aha~ I love my mate, I'll take such good care of you.

Riddle was met with another image of Floyd and himself in another...sweet scenario. One where Floyd was watching him sleep in with one of the most tender looks Riddle had ever imagined on Floyd's face. As he slept, Floyd played with the coral colored ring on his left ring finger.

"Nothing! It's nothing! I'm fine!" Riddle scrambled out of his chair, face still warm and his stomach nauseous.

"I think I'm just feeling a bit feverish, I think I will step out for a bit—"

"You want someone to take ya to the nurse?" Floyd asked, while Silver nodded along. "I can take ya, come on Lil' Goldfishie—"

"I DON'T NEED AN ESCORT!" Riddle shut his mouth as soon as he opened it, some of the other students giving him a look for his volume.

Aw what, come on! Floyd frowned, though it breifly was hidden by one of Floyd's lazy smiles as he shrugged.

"Whatever you say~" Floyd cooed, his eyes following Riddle as he rushed out of the classroom. Riddle could feel his entire body heating up, like Floyd knew that he knew.

Once he was out of the classroom, he near bolted to the nearest bathroom. Locking the door behind him, Riddle turned to look at himself in the mirror.

He was indeed his characteristic shade of red. Instead of his usual angry expression, though, was one of fluster and breathlessness.

Riddle let out a small, high-pitched whimper as he turned for the faucet for some cold water, splashing it on his face. He looked up at the mirror again, cheeks still bright red, and let out a whine.

I will never make light of you again, Prefect, I promise.

[not-sleepys-blog]

Gojo during your pregnancy

Content: How I think Gojo would act during your pregnancy

Word count: 353

A/N: might turn this into a mini series.. also just an fyi i do take requests :D

Gojo who was happy but also a little scared when you showed him the positive pregnancy test

Gojo who reassured you that everything would be okay and he would take care of you and the baby

Gojo who held your hair and rubbed your back when you threw up

Gojo who woke up in the middle the night after noticing you missing from bed, only to find you sitting on the kitchen floor crying because you didn't have the specific chips you were craving.

Gojo who lifted you off the floor and sat you down on the couch gently since he wouldn't want to hurt his babies and turns on the tv as he wipes your tears away before kissing your forehead telling you he'll be right back

Gojo who went to a 24 hour convenience store to get you chips and other things he thought you might crave

Gojo who came back to you watching the rugrats on Nickelodeon

Gojo who sat next to you, cuddling with you as you ate your snacks

Gojo who falls asleep with you on the couch watching cartoons

Gojo who wakes up early to make you breakfast

Gojo who becomes overprotective the more you pregnancy progresses

Gojo who wouldn’t let you do ANYTHING yourself “No baby I can get it for you, just rest okay don’t want you to overwork yourself and hurt our baby”

Gojo who cried when he felt the baby kick for the first time

Gojo who touched and rubbed on your bump as much as possible

Gojo who started to call the baby “little gojo” knowing it annoyed you but it eventually grew on you

Gojo who had a panic attack when your water broke in public

Gojo who lifted you up in his arms and ran to the car

Gojo who speed to the hospital

Gojo who stayed by your side during the birthing process

Gojo who held your hand while you pushed

Gojo who wiped the sweat off your face

Gojo who wanted to cry seeing you pain

Gojo who did cry as he held his child in his arms

[hiitsm]

The Weight of a Promise: The First Vow

The Weight of a Promise is for 18+ only.

Angst, Hurt

-

"Hola, mi amor. I've brought your favorite takeout," you call out as you step into your shared apartment. The silence that greets you is unusual, but you figure your girlfriend might be lost in her football replays again, headphones on, oblivious to the world.

You head to the kitchen and place the takeout on the counter. With a smile, you begin setting the table, adding a special touch by placing a large candle in the center. You had picked it up while waiting for the takeout, hoping to create a cozy, romantic atmosphere for the evening.

You had been eagerly anticipating this day, a rare night where both you and Jenni could finally enjoy each other's company without the interruptions of work commitments and meetings. Tonight was special, a night set aside just for the two of you.

You envisioned a cozy dinner at home, savoring a delicious meal together. Afterward, you longed to lounge in Jenni's strong, tattooed arms, sharing intimate conversations about everything and nothing. For a while now, you had yearned to kiss her softly and lose yourself in her touch. Tonight, you hoped, all of that would come true.

As you approached the door of your shared bedroom, the familiar scene unfolded slightly differently tonight.

"Bébé, please come or dinner will get cold," you called out with a chuckle. Jenni often lost track of time watching a match, only to later grumble about her meal cooling off. Tonight was no exception. However, your amusement quickly faded as you noticed Jenni packing a suitcase, headphones firmly in place, her attention wholly absorbed.

She hadn't yet seen you standing there.

You gently touch her arm, causing Jenni to jump with surprise. Quickly, she slid her headphones off and gave you a quick once-over. There you stood in one of her old FC Barcelona jerseys, her name and number emblazoned on the back, paired with simple shorts. To her, you looked perfect, which only made what she was about to do even harder.

"Amor, I've called out to you twice already. What's with the suitcase?" Your curiosity overrode your hunger momentarily. It was packed to the brim.

It didn't occur to you once that Jenni might be preparing to walk away with it.

Instead, you innocently assumed she was testing it out for your next vacation, envisioning you both bringing the entire contents of your closet along.

Jenni released a sizable sigh, or perhaps it was more of a deep breath. You couldn't recall a time when she appeared nervous. She exuded confidence and a touch of cockiness. Yet, there she stood, visibly uneasy.

Acting on instinct, you reached for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, hoping to anchor her back to the present moment. But for Jenni, this gesture only added to the overwhelming realization of how perfect you were for her, making her current predicament all the more challenging.

"I have to go", Jenni whispered, her gaze fixed on your hand, where the diamond of your engagement ring shimmered in the light.

"Go where?" confusion crept into your voice. She hadn't mentioned anything about leaving earlier.

"I have to go to Mexico," she stated, her tone wavering yet determined.

Your mind flashed back to conversations about her dream of playing for a football club in Mexico after her time with FC Barcelona Feminí. You both agreed it would happen eventually, but not yet. There was still a full season ahead in Barcelona, and she was committed to seeing it through. It also gave you both time to tie up loose ends with work and with your shared house.

But now, uncertainty crept in, casting doubt on whether that plan remained in the distant future.

"Okay, for how long?" Your voice carries a hint of uncertainty, mirroring the confusion swirling inside you. Unsure of what to ask next, you're taken aback by this unfamiliar version of your girlfriend. It's a side you've never seen before, and it leaves you feeling a bit anxious.

All you want is for her to feel better. You can see she's struggling, yet she's not sharing much. You're left grasping for ways to support her, wishing you knew how to ease her burden.

"Amor, are you feeling okay?" After a prolonged silence and still no answer to your question, you reach out to her again. ''I really want to help you, amor," you confess, feeling a sense of desperation creeping in.

"You're not making this easy for me," she whispers, her voice barely audible, and you can almost see tears glistening in her eyes. Your heart aches at the sight, longing to erase whatever troubles are weighing her down and restore the familiar warmth between you.

"It doesn't have to be easy, as long as I can help you even a little," you say, squeezing her hand gently and offering a soft smile. Jenni feels a surge of hesitation, almost ready to abandon her plan. But she knows if she doesn't rip the band-aid off now, she might never find the courage to do it.

"I'm leaving tonight, the Uber is almost here," she blurts out, her words landing like a punch to your gut, leaving you even more bewildered.

"What do you mean? I haven't packed anything. I need to call work, and how long did you say? We need to make arrangements for our house and-" Your thoughts tumble out in a jumble, but Jenni cuts in before you can finish.

"This upcoming season, I'll be playing in Mexico with the Tigres," she announces, a mixture of nerves and anticipation evident in her expression.

A smile tugs at your lips as you hear that her dream has come true, but you can see that Jenni's emotions are more complex than just excitement.

"I'm proud of you. It's a bit quicker than expected, but that's how life goes sometimes, right?" You lean in to place a tender kiss on her cheek, searching her eyes for reassurance, but instead, you find a hint of hesitation that dampens your own enthusiasm.

"I'm going alone," she whispers, her words barely audible.

"I'm sorry?" You question, struggling to comprehend what you just heard.

Did she really say that?

"I have to do this alone,'' she repeats, her voice tinged with sorrow, and you find yourself unable to grasp her reasoning.

"Why? Don't you want me by your side, chasing your dreams with you?" Shock colors your words as you grapple with the idea.

"It's not that I don't want that," she assures you, her sigh heavy with the weight of her decision. "It's just that I need to figure some things out on my own." Her admission hangs in the air, revealing the depth of her inner turmoil. This certainly wasn't an easy choice for her.

"But what about our plans to do life together?" Tears gathered in your eyes as you raised your hand, displaying the engagement ring proudly adorning your finger.

"Please, don't do this," she implored, her voice tinged with desperation.

"This is difficult enough, please don't make it harder," she pleaded with you.

"Almost five years together, almost one year engaged," you say, your voice catching in your throat.

An overwhelming sadness washes over you.

"Life is full of challenges, but I want to face them with you. Isn't that what you said to me?" Tears stream down your face, your breath coming in shallow gasps.

Jenni struggles to contain her own emotions, knowing that if she hugged you tightly now, she wouldn't be able to leave.

But she had to go.

"I know, and I'm sorry," she says, tears streaming down her face, her voice barely audible.

"I'm sorry I can't give you the answers you need right now. I'm so sorry," she repeats, her voice trembling as she avoids meeting your eyes. Tears well up in her own eyes, mirroring the pain in your heart.

"No, I'm sorry if I didn't see you struggling. I'm sorry if I wasn't there for you before. I'm sorry that you had to make this decision and that I couldn't help you out of it," you say, shaking your head as you struggle to form the words, feeling the weight of blame settling heavily upon you.

"No," Jenni shakes her head gently. "It's not you, I promise." Her phone chimes, signaling the arrival of her Uber. With a sigh, she zips up her suitcase. "It's me. I need to clear my head, and this is the only way," she explains, her voice trembling with emotion.

For a final moment, she kisses you softly, leaving you both touched and taken aback.

A flicker of anger rises within you, how could she kiss you in such a heavy moment only to leave you afterward?

But the anger quickly gives way to a deeper sadness.

She is really leaving you like this, and it hurts more than you can bear.

"Lo siento," she murmurs, resting her forehead against yours.

Tears still streaming down your face.

You find it impossible to stop crying.

"You really think this is the only way?" you ask, your voice laced with uncertainty as Jenni walks towards the entrance door of your shared house.

She pauses, her gaze drifting to the dining table adorned with her favorite takeout food and the beautiful candle you had carefully chosen. Tears flow down her face more rapidly now, weighed down by the love and effort you've poured into this moment, making it all the more difficult.

Your question elicits even more tears from her, knowing that despite the hurt, you still trust her with all your heart.

You want to stand up for her, even as she feels she's shattered your heart into a million pieces.

She turns around to face you once more, her eyes brimming with determination. "Sí," she says firmly.

"Then I believe you," you respond softly, unable to dispute her decision despite the immense pain you feel in this moment and know you'll carry for a while.

She gently takes your hand, her touch grazing against the engagement ring that symbolized your shared love and commitment.

With a soft kiss, she bids farewell to the engagement ring, her heart heavy with uncertainty. She's unsure if it's truly the last time she'll feel its presence, if it's the last time she'll see it adorning your finger, proudly carried as a symbol of your shared love.

In her heart, she yearns for a swift return, longing to mend herself and come back to you quickly, to the warmth of your embrace and the comfort of your love.

Yet, doubts cloud her thoughts, casting shadows on her hopes. What if it's not as simple as she wishes? The fear of the unknown weighs heavily on her, a burden she can't bear to share with you, leaving the possibility of your reunion hanging delicately in the balance.

"Please don't take this off," she murmurs, her eyes pleading as she nods towards your engagement ring.

She knows she shouldn't have said it, understands she doesn't have the right, not after causing you such pain.

But the words escape her lips nonetheless, carrying with them a deep well of longing and regret.

Despite everything, she wants you to know that her love for you remains unwavering.

''Te amo mucho,'' she whispers, her voice filled with sincerity and affection. With a heavy heart, she turns and walks out the door, hoping against hope that one day she'll be able to make things right again.

You can't stop her. Deep down, you know you can't.

She's resolute in her decision, and as much as it hurts, you understand that you have to let her go.

You watch her leave through the door, aching with the weight of your emotions. She said it's the only way, and despite your inner turmoil, you choose to trust her.

Now, it's quiet, the only sound being the echo of your own thoughts amidst the silence.

You gaze through your tears at your engagement ring, its brilliance mocking the ache in your chest.

It's a beautiful symbol of love, but right now, it's a painful reminder of what once was.

Yet, despite the hurt it brings, you refuse to take it off.

You cling to it, as if holding onto the last remnants of hope.

Even as the pain threatens to consume you, even if it seems like the hurt will triumph, you stand firm in your resolve.

You won't take it off.

Not now.

Not ever.

Because even if you take it off, the hurt won't go away.

And deep down, you still hold onto the flicker of hope that one day, things will be different.

[percyluvr]

hey babes, could you maybe do like a percy x reader where he gets home from AHS one day and just walk in on his mom and gf just having the ultimate gossip session and being besties, idk i just thought that would be funny

percy jackson x fem!reader summary: percy comes home from a long day at school to find his girlfriend and mother immersed in a juicy gossip session wc: 668

Since the day you'd met Sally Jackson, she'd been your favorite person in the whole world, even surpassing your own boyfriend, who just so happened to be her son. Apparently, being a great person just ran in the Jackson family.

Luckily for you, Sally had also taken an immense liking to you, considering you her own daughter. The two of you bonded over various common interests, as well as your worry about Percy.

At first, Percy had been the main thing the two of you bonded over, but the two of you eventually realized that you had a lot in common, one of these things being your love for gossiping. The two of you gossiped every day without fail, even on the days that the two of you didn't see each other in person. The two of you talked long into the night on the phone, Percy overhearing it whether he was at home or with you, and he always pretended to be jealous that the two of you were 'ignoring' him in favor of talking to each other, to which you and Sally would just laugh and continue talking about people that neither of you really even knew that well.

Today, Percy was tired beyond belief, having a test or quiz in almost all of his classes. He was walking home, the only thoughts on his mind being you and a long nap. Yes, he was a demigod, and yes he fought many hour long battles, one of which being a full day of school, and he was now a sleepy boy who just wanted to cuddle with his girlfriend.

Unfortunately, the gods were not looking favorably at him today, because when he finally made it home, he found his girlfriend and mother sat on the couch, seemingly very immersed in a conversation.

While it wasn't out of the ordinary for you to be at his house before him, what was unusual was the fact that when he walked in the door, near you nor his mother even batted an eye in acknowledgement of his presence.

Typically the two of you would at least give him a small 'hi', but not today.

"Hey, I'm home," he said, thinking that the two of you must not have noticed the door opening.

You and Sally didn't even acknowledge him, opting to continue your gossip session instead.

His mouth opened, but no words came out.

Paul Blofis, Percy's step-dad, let out a small sigh, causing Percy to look over at him and finally notice he was there.

Paul gave him a pained smile. "They've been talking like this since I got home," he stated.

Percy gave an empathetic nod, pulling up a chair next to Paul.

"Let's see how long they talk before realizing we're even here," Percy half-jokes.

"Sounds fun," Paul agreed.

It was, in fact, not fun, because the two boys sat there for around 4 hours before you and Sally even looked in their direction.

It was around 9 pm when you and Sally finally stopped talking and acknowledged the two sitting there nearly dozing off.

You got up and grabbed Percy's hand, leading him to his room and plopping down on the bed. His arms went around your waist as he pulled you close to him.

"What were you and my mom even talking about that was so interesting that you completely ignored me when I said hi?" He asked.

"Percy, Sally and I have gossip sessions daily, and they cannot be interrupted. It's very vital that we get to talk about other people for at least 2 hours a day, otherwise we might die," you joke.

"Really? You two do that every day? How do you not run out of things to talk about?"

"Oh you sweet summer child, you underestimate our ability to find gossip-worthy topics."

Percy realizes that he will not ever understand the two most important women in his life and just hums in acknowledgement of your words before falling soundly asleep.