#also yes they are in a corner and they will stay that way

[starglitterz]

♡ YOU KNOW YOU LOVE ME!

what was meant to be a simple heist goes awry when you're interrupted by a shockingly cute security guard & a couple of rival art thieves. did you mention that one of them is kind of your ex?

✧ feat ; ayato, childe, diluc, scaramouche x gn!reader (3.6k words)

✧ warnings ; highly suggestive, thief + cop au, robbery, weapons, reader is a tease, one (1) ginger insult, reader loves bullying men (as they should)

✧ a/n ; be gay do crime that's all i have to say! jk HJSDSJD this has been rotting in my drafts for almost THREE years. i reread it and the writing style was so unserious that i suddenly got motivated to continue it and then i finished it in a night. Yeah. anyways this is my #grandcomeback and also first post of 2025! i really hope you all enjoy this :> if it flops i will cry myself to sleep /j btw this was proofread by the loml @musings-of-miss-j who has a SUPERB harbingers series that u should totally check out 🙂‍↕️😋

please reblog with comments ! it helps a lot :)

"hey! you there!" a baritone voice behind you yells, shattering the midnight peace of the museum and jolting you out of your reverie. tightening your grip around the gleaming purple gnosis you came here for, you slip it into your pocket quickly before turning around with a smile that would assure anybody of your innocence. "who? little old me?" you bat your eyes, blinking slowly at the man. your eyes have long adjusted to the darkness, so even with his similarly coloured outfit you're able to pick out the faded gold badge at his chest reading 'diluc'. "what are you doing back here?" his tone doesn't change in the slightest as he flicks his flashlight over to you, the beam practically blinding against the dark surroundings. 

"it appears that i've gotten lost," you laugh awkwardly, doing your best to feign being a naive tourist, "i was told that there were late tours offered at the teyvat museum." diluc still looks exceedingly suspicious, and as his gaze travels behind you your mind snaps into overdrive so he doesn't notice the missing artifact. suddenly bursting into tears, you run forward and bury your face in his shirt, "i! was! so! scared!" you punctuate each word with an even louder wail and he freezes beneath you, the close contact entirely unexpected. "there, there…" he pats your back with the enthusiasm and warmth of a polar ice cap, and with your face hidden in the fabric you permit yourself a triumphant smile - you've managed to divert his attention for now, at least.

"i am so terribly sorry about this," you begin to apologise profusely before looking up at him with teary eyes, "but would you mind walking me to the exit? i'm afraid i'll get lost again." at his hesitant expression you sniffle loudly, exaggerating it as much as possible until he caves, "fine. but stay close, there's been rumours floating around about artifact thieves lately." when he starts marching away, you hurry to catch up and ask curiously as if you aren't one of them, "artifact thieves?!" "yes. the type to steal priceless elements of history and sell them on the black market," he spits with disgust in his eyes. "oh, how terrible! i can't understand why anyone would do that instead of leaving them here for the public to enjoy," you gush, "surely there are other ways to make money." 

yeah, you could become an art thief instead. not that you haven't tried that; you just found it too tedious to craft a believable enough fake and ensure the painting wasn't damaged while sneaking it out. diluc doesn't deign to reply besides a single nod of his head, and you try to start up another conversation, "i suppose you're not the type to befriend random visitors, huh?" the corner of his lips tug up into a barely perceptible smile, "only the ones who appear after closing hours." "can't you make an exception for me?" you wink, though you doubt he can even see it through the darkness blanketing the museum. "hmph," is the only answer you receive, and your chit-chat ends with a dramatic sigh from your end.

to be frank, you couldn't care less whether this ‘diluc’ likes you or not. it's just in your best interests for him to remember you as some flirty ditz who'd leave their head at home if it wasn't screwed on and not a calculating, manipulative burglar. this heist is one to remember for sure though, you don't think you've ever escaped with the goods in your pocket while talking to the security guard on duty. you've knocked them out beforehand and slept with them after, but never during the job, so tonight marks a first for you. 

through your eyelashes, you glance at diluc, absorbing every detail about him in a split second; it's a trick you've learned from years of living on the street where figuring out who's going to hurt you and who won't is crucial for survival. he's pretty enough that you wouldn't mind spending the night with him, with fiery red locks tied neatly into a high ponytail and crimson eyes which sparkle like rubies. perhaps you could make this a double heist and steal his heart too!

your train of thought is interrupted as diluc comes to a halt without warning and you bump into his back (which you note is surprisingly toned). "what-" you start to complain, but he holds a hand up which silences you immediately. "i heard something," he whispers, practically inaudible, and you instantly start to babble, "what?! are they artifact thieves?! are we going to die?!" diluc groans before grabbing you and hiding behind a wall, pulling you flush against his torso as one of his gloved hands covers your mouth, "shut up." 

now this is close contact; you can feel the quick rise and fall of his chest, his racing heartbeat, and his every muscle tensing in preparation for a fight. if you weren't so preoccupied with the fact that this is delaying your getaway, you'd probably make a stupid quip. actually scratch that, you're going to do it anyway, "at least take me on a date first," you mumble as you shrug away his hand, and he looks at you with the most disbelieving expression, "you can still make idiotic comments in a situation like this? you've either got nerves of steel or you're a total dumbass." "depends on your type," you smile, and he drags a palm down his face exasperatedly, "i- you know what, never mind."

"ow!" "shut the fuck up, idiot. it's bad enough that i had to get paired with you, but if you get us caught i'm going to kill you." "rude. you could just ask nicely." "i have no interest in talking to you." "yet here we are." "can you seriously keep quiet? i'm telling the tsaritsa never to put me in a team with you again." "aw, stop, you'll hurt my feelings." "do you even have any of those left?" "hey! i'll have you know i am a very emotional person." "that's like me saying i'm an upstanding member of society."

you freeze in diluc's arms, running through every curse word in every language you know in your mind. you'd recognise those two voices anywhere. out of all the nights the fatui could have been planning a robbery, it had to be tonight?! archons, your luck is awful. "okay, this has been fun and all, but i've got to go," you start wriggling out of his embrace, planning to smash a window and escape because you'd honestly risk getting caught by the cops instead of the fatui. "what?! are you insane?! there are obviously two robbers there," diluc whisper-shouts, brows furrowing in a peculiar mix of confusion and worry. "and i'd prefer not to die, so i'm going to leave before they come here!" you retort, continuing to slide out of his arms. however, he doesn't relax his grip and you roll your eyes before elbowing him in the stomach. the sudden attack surprises him and he lets go with a groan, which is more than enough time for you to make a break for it.

unfortunately, diluc delayed you long enough that you end up running right into the two fatui members' line of vision. "wait, who are you?!" one of them asks, and the other one continues, "turn around, or i'll shoot you right now." fuck, is all you can think as you slowly rotate to face them with a sheepish smile, perhaps they wouldn't recognise you. "hey, aren't you y/n?!" well, there goes that plan. "no…? who's that?" "nah, you definitely are," the ginger walks towards you slowly before tilting your chin up to face him with his index finger. the game's up, so you sigh, "hey, childe... it's been a while." 

"i knew it was you! i'd know that pretty face of yours anywhere," he beams gleefully, and you smirk, "you still find me pretty? never knew you had a thing for criminals." "i do, it's my fatal flaw," he frowns before continuing, "except when they steal my money, in which case they become my enemies instead." double fuck. he still remembers that. "it wasn't that much! just about ten million mora or so, i know you've got tons left where that came from," you hurry to defend yourself. "that's not the point! the point is that you stole my money after i oh-so-kindly let you stay in my house!" childe says, and you're not taking this one lying down, "liar! you invited me over after you saw me at the bar!"

"can you both shut up? i'm losing braincells just listening to this shit," scaramouche cuts in, rolling his eyes so far back you swear they're going to get stuck that way. "really? because when you opened your mouth i think my iq just dropped by 10 points," you retort. scaramouche gapes at you for a second, clearly not used to someone talking back to him. "take a picture, it'll last longer," you wink, feeling the situation slide itself back into your grasp once more; you aren't planning on going down without a fight. "i don't have a kamera, and anyway who wants photos of dead people?" he fumbles for a reply and childe snickers, "cat got your tongue, scara?" "more like y/n's got your wallet," the balladeer jabs back, a smug grin curving his lips at the witty reply. childe's eyes widen at the insult, "hey! i'll have you know that i gave it to them willingly-"

taking advantage of the argument between the two of them, you unhook a rope from your waist and toss it up to the skylight. you're in the common center area of the museum, which has a square gap up to the roof and offers you a perfect shot for your hook to sail upwards and catch at the ledge. the instant you press a button the cord retracts, pulling you up with it. "and now y/n's getting away! so long, suckers!" you cheer as you zip upwards. "isn't that my line?!" you hear scaramouche yell as they scramble to find a way after you. seconds before you slam into the window like an unfortunate bug, you pull out a gun and shoot the glass, watching with glee as a spiderweb of cracks forms across it. thanks to the momentum of you gliding through the air, your boots easily smash through it when you kick harshly as you reach it, and you land with a loud thud on the roof. "ouch," you groan, "that's going to leave a bruise tomorrow." glancing at your surroundings, you inhale the fresh night air stained with the smog from all the polluting factories and listen to the buzz of the highways, busy even past midnight, "nothing like the city."

just then, you hear a thump behind you, and then a deep voice that sounds strangely familiar, "you'll be admiring it from a prison window after this." you spin around sharply, and the sight nearly makes you fall off the edge of the building with surprise, "diluc?!" at this, he freezes, and it's evident that he thought his disguise would be more than enough to conceal his identity. with a cough, he says, "no, i'm the darknight hero." "no, you're clearly diluc. i just met you like fifteen minutes ago and even i can recognise your hair in that stupid suit, it practically glows," you fold your arms over your chest, making idle conversation while your mind races to come up with an idea to save yourself. "my suit isn't stupid," diluc can't stop himself from defending his outfit, just because he had barely any sewing skills did not give you the right to insult the piece of clothing. "it's literally a mask and a black coat." 

"back to the matter at hand," diluc- sorry, the darknight hero, clears his throat loudly, clearly eager to change the topic, "you're under arrest." "oh yeah? since when are you a cop?" "i'm not." "then you obviously don't have the power to arrest me, idiot." smarting from yet another insult, diluc tries his best to maintain his composure, "i meant that i'm going to take you in to the police station and then you'll be under arrest." "should have just said that," you shrug, and you can almost see diluc fighting to rein his temper in - this is too easy.

"okay, well, this actually hasn't been fun at all, so i'm leaving," you turn around again and stroll away, hoping that there'll be a ladder on the edge of the roof. you don't really see a diluc as a threat, because to be honest he seems more like a kid playing dress-up. what kind of self-respecting adult who cared as much for the law as he did would choose to be a vigilante? maybe if he got a better costume you could take him seriously. and that turned out to be a huge mistake on your part, because the next moment, a lasso whizzes through the air and loops around your ankles, quickly pulling into a deadknot that would take you ages to untie. 

you want to throw a tantrum, crying and stomping your feet at diluc, but what good would that do when this issue sprung from your own cockiness? "listen, how much do you want? i'll give it to you, any amount. i know how much security guards make, and trust me, it'll be nothing compared to what i could give you," the words spill out of your mouth in a jumble, and you seem to take on the role of a confident salesman selling a product you know is worthless. it's embarrassing how much this sounds like a plea. "i don't want money. i want the streets and artifacts of teyvat to be safe from people like you," diluc ignores your further attempts at bribing him, although he does give you a strange look when you offer up a kiss, as if he's genuinely considering it. does this man actually get no bitches?

“ah, a kiss, hm? is that what you want?” you lean forward almost desperately, grinning at him like a maniac, “c’mon, mr darknight hero! i promise i’m a really good kisser~” you lick your lips as if to prove your point, and your smirk deepens when his ruby gaze follows the motion. “just give me a second to touch up my lipstick, ‘kay?” while he’s still stunned from your offer, you fumble in your pocket and pull out a taser. diluc only snaps back into action when he sees the weapon clutched in your hands, and though he dodges, you manage to stumble forward without your bound ankles and ram the buzzing probes into his chest. 

a strange noise, a mixture of a whimper and a groan escapes his throat as he falls to his knees in front of you, body twitching like a dying bug. rummaging in his pockets, you find a knife and giggle as you slice through the ties on your legs, “see? this is why it’s always great to have men on their knees for you. i forgot my knife today, so i hope you’ll be okay with me borrowing this.” as he glares at you through blurry vision, a mockingly pitiful smile curves your lips and you pat his head like you’re petting an overzealous guard dog, “now be a good boy and stay here, okay, diluc? ah, sorry, i mean mr darknight hero!” dipping your head, you press a fleeting kiss to his cheek, relishing in his flustered gasp, “i’ll give you a proper kiss next time~” you burst into laughter and skip off, leaving him tied up and blushing with the same restraints he had used on you. 

“why is this stupid place so big?!” you mutter to yourself as you whiz across the rooftop. the museum is under renovation, so a lot of the walls of the rear wing are covered in scaffolding and tarp that only serve to slow you down as you try to escape. you’re seriously regretting being a cheapskate earlier and not parking at the official parking lot, instead you had hid your getaway car almost a kilometre away from the location just to avoid a parking fee. don’t judge! things like this are how rich people stay rich. but just as you’re skidding across the glass-roofed observatory, you hear a familiar voice behind you. 

“not so fast, thief.”

you groan as exaggeratedly as you can, making a big show of how troublesome it is for you to turn around, “hello again, childe. hat guy.” “my name is scaramouche!” he seethes, scowling at you with a glare furious enough to thaw antarctica. “listen, y/n,” childe steps forward, raising both hands in magnanimous surrender, “let’s make a deal.” “not interested.” you stick your tongue out, slowly backing away. childe continues as if he didn’t hear you, but the twitch in his brow is enough to give away his act, “you give us the gnosis, and i’ll forget all about the money you owe me.” “i don’t owe you, genius,” you scoff, “i stole it. i’m obviously not going to repay it.” “you really are an idiot,” scaramouche massages his temples, looking for all the world like he’d rather be anywhere else on earth than here at this moment.

“well!” childe puffs himself up, pretending that his ego isn’t hurt, “i thought you and i had chemistry, y’know? we could hang out again if you just give me the gnosis.” his voice drops an octave lower to emphasise his last few words, and you feel a familiar shiver up your spine. “childe, we slept together once, and sleeping with a ginger was not one of my proudest moments,” you retort, though you feel a twinge of guilt as childe fusses with his hair, “hey! uncalled for!” to be honest, he’s not wrong. the two of you did have chemistry, and the night you spent together was… well, let’s just say you could barely walk the next day. but dating isn’t your style, especially not when it’s someone who belongs to a rival group in the world of art theft. you  prefer one night stands – it’s easier to keep things simple with no strings attached. 

“just give us the gnosis, and we won’t kill you. is that a better deal?” scaramouche interrupts, evidently tired of childe beating around the bush. “scara! i was this close to getting them to crack!” childe pouts, and scaramouche rolls his eyes heavenward – if there was ever a time for him to believe in the gods, it would be now as he prays for mercy from his partner’s stupidity. “you’re cracked in the head if you think so,” scaramouche drags a palm down his face and sighs, “you only think with your dick.” “what?!” childe’s aghast at this accusation, “that’s not true!” “i think it is.” you helpfully supply, and that draws both men’s attention back to you.

“whatever! just hand us the gnosis, and things won’t get messy.” childe withdraws his blades, and you realise he’s finally getting serious. scaramouche steps closer as well, and you can’t move backwards anymore, you’re already teetering on the ledge. a fall from this height definitely wouldn’t leave you in the best condition. it’s too early for you to die, you haven’t even seen your favourite artist live yet! “fine. you want it?” you pull the gnosis out from your pocket and a wicked smirk graces your features, “then come and get it~!” you toss the item up in the air, letting the way it sparkles in the moonlight speak for itself as you lean backwards and salute, “see you on the other side, losers!” 

with that, you fall off the roof while scaramouche and childe fumble to catch the gnosis.

“hey! that dumbass!” childe rushes to the edge to check on you, only to realise that… you aren’t there?! contrary to what he expected, your bloody corpse isn’t lying there. you’re climbing down the scaffolding like a monkey, weaving in and out of the metal bars until you reach the ground. looking back up at him, childe thinks he can make out a final playful wink before you hop into a black car that’s just pulled up at the back. behind him, scaramouche yells, “childe!” “what is it now, balladeer- what?!” the gnosis is shattered on the stone roof, shards of purple and silver gleaming in a manner that almost seems taunting. “it was a fucking fake!” scaramouche yells, kicking the broken pieces furiously, and childe can’t stop the lovestruck expression that plays across his face, “y/n really is a master thief…” “snap out of it, idiot! what are we going to tell the boss?!”

meanwhile, you’re in the passenger seat of an inconspicuous black car, chuckling to yourself as you toy with the real gnosis. “you’re lucky i told you to bring more than one imitation,” a suave voice sounds from the driver’s seat, “and that i was there to save you.” “thank you, oh great master ayato,” you giggle, pretending to bow, “you’re a lifesaver. literally.” he smirks, gloved fingers tapping idly against the steering wheel, “you could have been in and out. you just like playing too much.” “hey!” you whine dramatically, “it’s not my fault the security guard was so cute!” “hmm…” he reaches out and tilts your chin to face his piercing blue eyes, “don’t say stuff like that or i’ll get jealous, you know?” “s-shut up.” you pout, folding your arms across your chest and turning away to look out the window, “just drive, you blue-haired weirdo.” “that’s no way to talk to your boss now, is it?” he laughs goodnaturedly as the two of you speed away, “i just wish i could be there to see the look on captain wriothesley’s face when he realises it was us again.” 

© starglitterz 2025. do not repost or modify in any way – reblog / follow if you enjoyed !

[bibibibuckleykinard]

look should I be prepping for this zoom call that I have to do today? Yes...am i?... no. SO here a snip bit of a potential fic! enjoy.

also warning sadbuck....

also also, this is a BuckTommy fic...with a happy ending lol I know it doesn't seem like it but trust me.

*********************************************************************

It had been a week since he left the hospital without him. He wanted nothing more to be home in his and Tommy’s house with his things but it was a construction zone. So he remained at his sister and brother-in-law’s, with his parents, sister, Chim, and Jee. Alone sleeping on the couch. He had spent most of the evenings in the back yard trying not to burden the others with his heartbreak, he would lay there on the lounger, tears escaping his eyes staring up at the night sky until he see the lights in the kitchen go out from the corner of his eyes. He sat up slowly looking into the darken house, raising from his spot before heading in. He wiped the tears from his cheek hearing his niece in her room with Maddie.

“Mommy?” He heard his niece questioned his sister. 

“Yeah, baby?”

“Is Uncle Buck okay?”

He can hear the hesitation, “He will be… I hope, “ she replied. 

“He’s been crying a lot,” Jee added. 

His heart breaks even more, which he didn’t think was possible.

“He’s really missing your Uncle Tommy.”

“We should call him.” 

_____________

Inside Jee’s room

‘It’s… I wish we could, sweetie,” Maddie tried explaining to her 5 year old. “You know how Daddy got hurt at work last week? 

Jee shook her head yes. 

“…. well your Uncle Tommy was also hurt…”

“Daddy helped him though.”

“He did…” Maddie replied with a weak smile, she reached for Jee’s hand, squeezing it softly. “..but after that accident, another accident happened… Daddy had already been taken to the hospital, Uncle Tommy had stayed to help his copilot…” Maddie explained. “And he got hurt more…they tried to get him to the hospital but-“

“Uncle Tommy went up to heaven? With Uncle Daniel and Uncle Kevin?”

“Yeah, sweetie.”

“Oh,” the 5 year old replied, the words small and full of sadness. “Mommy?”

“Yeah, sweetie?” Maddie replied quickly wiping the tears from her cheek. 

“Me and Uncle Tommy had a surprise for Uncle Buck.”

“You did?”

“Yeah.”

“What was the surprise?” 

“He was supposed to give it to Uncle Buck when we all had dinner with Grandma and Grandpa.”

“Give Buck what, Baby?” 

Jee crawled out of bed, running over to her chest of drawers, she opened one of them pulling a ring box before making her way back to bed. She crawled back in handing the box over to her mom. 

Maddie’s eyes grew big, as she opened the box seeing the ring, “Jee, sweetie, where did you get this from?” 

“Uncle Tommy’s bag,” she replied. “Uncle Tommy was scared that Uncle Buck would find it before he got to propose again.”

“What— Again?”

“Yeah, Uncle Buck and Tommy  are emgaged,” she explained. “But is was supposed to be a secret until they told us at dinner. “ 

“And how did you find out?” “When Uncle Tommy pick me up from school we went to a store to look at rings, he let me pick  the ring because he said I knew Uncle Buck the best”

“Oh my god,” Maddie muttered the tears welling up again. 

“Uncle Tommy didn’t know I have it,” she explained. “Uncle Buck was going throw his bag so I grabbed it before he could see it,” she went on. “ I didn’t want Uncle Tommy to be sad that Uncle Buck found it before he could propose again.”  “Oh, sweetie,” Maddie muttered closing the box, Maddie pulled her daughter into a hug. 

[mischievouslittlecreature]

Part 26: Do You Love Me

Summary: They have a lot of time to make up for.

Word Count: 5,769

Warnings: Smut, marathon sex, oral sex, size kink, bit of a praise kink, unintentional voyeurism, and references to polyamory and past suicide attempts.

Notes: I just want to say a massive thank you to everyone who has read this fic. This one in particular has been a passion project of mine since nearly the initial creation of Lucy, and I am so, so glad that you enjoyed it enough to read all the way to the end! Thank you so much for all the support that you have given me!

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Part

Chapter 22: Hopelessly Tangled

Lucy took in a deep, shuddering breath and pushed open the door leading into the room where she had been staying at Charlie’s yard. A shiver had gone through her when she passed by the red door leading into the washroom, a sick feeling twisting in her stomach. 

She slipped away while Tommy was speaking to Charlie regarding what to do with the opium shipment they still had at the yard. Originally the plan was for Charlie to take the shipment out while the coppers were all distracted by the assassination. But obviously that had all gone to hell, and it hadn’t been safe to move the shipment yet.

Tommy had cast her an alarmed look when she murmured into his ear that she needed to go take care of something in her old room. But he seemed to calm at least somewhat after she squeezed his hand and reassured him that she was okay. It would take only a minute. 

The room looked different without her suitcases in the corner, her makeup and jewelry on the desk, or the fifty million bouquets of flowers that Tommy had sent her during her stay there. It seemed bigger, yes. But also more empty. Barren. 

Her eyes fixed on the bed, mind turning back to all those nights spent laying on it, cold and lonely and crying.

Pushing up the mattress, she grabbed the slip of paper tucked underneath it, then set the mattress down, turned, and sat on the bed. 

Her fingers traced delicately over the train ticket, thumbing over the printed date and time. Rooting around in her pocket, she pulled out her lighter, clicking it on and just about to coax the corner of the ticket into the flame when she heard the sound of the floorboards by the door creaking. 

Looking up, she was met with Tommy standing in the doorway, hands shoved deep into his pockets and watching her calculatingly, a frown set into his face. Lucy clicked off the lighter, imagining that she likely looked an awful lot like a child who had just been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. 

Closing the door behind him and approaching her with heavy footfalls, Tommy sat down beside her on the bed, cringing at the way that the springs creaked with complaint under their combined weight. Neither of them said anything, both just staring down at the train ticket still clutched between her fingers. 

“I bought it after you said that you were going to kill Mosley for her. I thought that I’d lost you forever, so…” she trailed off, fingers rubbing at the edges of the paper. “I thought it would be better for everyone.”

Tommy was quiet for a considerable stretch of time. His shoulder brushed against hers, his fingers fidgeting with each other. She wondered if that was a habit he’d picked up from her, or her from him. 

“Were you going to tell me?” he asked finally, voice soft despite it only being them in the room. 

“I don’t know,” she sighed. She could sense the hurt coming off of him in waves at that. She shook her head at her past actions. “I look back on the way that I was thinking and behaving then, and it all seems so silly now.”

Tommy shifted, reaching out silently in request for the ticket. She passed it to him without complaint. His shoulders sagged as he stared down at it clutched gingerly between his hands. Lucy cocked her head.

“What?” 

He looked up at her, eyes sad. “If you really want to leave–”

“I don’t. I never wanted to. I thought that you–” she pulled in a trembling breath. “I thought it would be what was best for you.”

He searched her eyes carefully, and she met his gaze steadfastly, daring him to find any lie or wavering in it. Knowing that he would find none. Satisfied, he held out the ticket to her, and she clicked the lighter back on, holding the flame up to the delicate paper. She and Tommy watched as the flames caught, the parchment beginning to curl and smoke before fully catching ablaze. Tommy turned the paper carefully to avoid letting the yellow flames touch his fingers. And once the fire had mostly engulfed the ticket, Lucy snagged the ashtray on the nightstand for him to drop it into. Setting it and her lighter both back down on the table, she leaned into him. His arm wrapped around her, tucking her closer to his chest while they watched the last remnants of the train ticket turn to ash. 

His other hand stroked along her forearm, delicately trailing his fingers down until they brushed against the raised, barely healed scar on her wrist. 

The stitches had come out that morning. Finally. And while it would still be awhile until she could be considered truly one hundred percent healed, it was close enough for her to not need anymore bandaging or sutures.  

“You’re the love of my life, you know,” Tommy said, lips touching to the crown of her head.

Lucy felt like she might’ve been about to burst with love and affection for him. Raising her face, she cradled both his cheeks in her palms, resting her forehead against his. “And you’re mine.”

His hands smoothed up her back, holding her to him. “I got something for you.”

Lucy leaning back to look at him, a smile pulling at the edges of her lips. “Yeah?”

He nodded. “Close your eyes.”

She raised an eyebrow, but complied. She could hear him shifting about beside her.

“Alright. Open ‘em.”

She blinked open her eyes, and was greeted with a delicate gold chain dangling from Tommy’s fingers where they were poised in front of her. Glinting in the light on the end of the chain, was a little golden heart pendant. 

“Tommy…” she reached out, fingers brushing over the pendant. It was just small and simple enough to be to her tastes. And she could wear it with her daily attire easily. But she knew just from looking at it that it was made of real gold.  

“You like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” she turned so that he could fasten it around her neck. It fell to rest just below her collarbone. “Thank you.”

“I had it charmed,” he said, finishing doing the clasp and dropping his face to nuzzle in her neck. “For good luck. Protection. And love” He punctuated each with a kiss to her throat. Turning around, Lucy wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. 

“Thank you, darling.” She touched his face. “I love it.”

“Every time you look at it, I want you to remember. Remember how much I love you.”

“I will.” Their noses bumped a little on their next kiss, but that didn’t dissuade them. 

“And,” he said–a little breathlessly, she noted smugly. “If that’s not enough. If you’re still doubting it, just ask me. Alright? Just ask me the question. Doesn’t matter the time, or the place, or what else might be on my mind. You ask, and I’ll answer, eh?”

“Okay,” she agreed. “Okay, I promise.”

His hands landed on her hips, tightening as he pulled her closer, an approving growl rumbling in his chest. “Good. Now c’mere.”

He pulled her impossibly closer to him, kissing her ferociously, his hands running over her sides before settling on her hips.

Lucy gasped delightedly into the kiss, hands going to fist at the front of his coat. Tommy’s tongue slid eagerly into her mouth, their kisses growing impossibly deeper with each passing moment. Her head spun a little, and had they not already been sitting down, she may have been at risk of her legs giving out. 

Just as she felt like she may very well run out of oxygen, Tommy broke the kiss to begin peppering his mouth along her throat. Nose brushing along where her neck met shoulder, she felt him inhaling deeply, and when he pushed her coat and suit jacket both from her shoulders, she didn’t stop him. Simply instead taking his own two outermost layers in her hands and nudging them off him, giving her much better access to grope at his biceps and run her hands along his chest. 

With a groan, Tommy began to fumble with the buttons on her waistcoat, pushing it off of her to land with an unceremonious thump on the floor. Warm hands slipped under her white shirt, stroking along her ribs.

“Yes?” he asked, eyes soft when they regarded her, asking for permission for more. She nodded eagerly, pressing wantonly against him. It had been far, far too long since he had touched her. Hands moving more frantically now, they both worked swiftly to rid the other of their clothes. Tommy’s waistcoat joined hers on the floor, while he became distracted after unbuttoning her shirt by caressing her breasts through her bra. Lucy giggled at the somewhat awkward maneuvering they had to do to get out of their holsters, before pressing her lips to the newly uncovered skin of his chest from her unbuttoning his shirt. Her bra was flicked open by clever fingers and flung to some faraway place in the depths of the room. Both naked from the waist up, Tommy scooped her up to press flush against him, lowering her backward to lay on the tiny bed. 

Immediately crawling on top of her, he set to work hastily ridding her of the remainder of her clothes, trousers and underwear pulled away and tossed carelessly to the floor in one quick movement. Legs fell open for him to settle between them, Tommy purring in approval at her nakedness, open mouthed kisses being planted along her neck down to her chest. 

“I missed you so fucking much,” he whispered between kisses, tongue circling one of her nipples before making his way down her body. 

“Missed you too,” she managed to get out, hand tugging on his dark hair and eliciting a groan from him. A finger circled over her clit, another groan clawing its way from Tommy’s throat at how wet she was. His burning lips pressed kisses to her thighs, his fingers beginning to work her over, thumb rubbing her clit while he slowly slipped two thick digits inside her.

She was teetering over the edge of an orgasm almost embarrassingly quickly, hands gripping the bed sheets so hard she was afraid that she might tear them. Tommy smirked, head tilted to the side.

“You wanna come? You wanna fucking come, sweet girl?”

Lucy nodded desperately.

“Yeah. You come as many fucking times as you want tonight.” With that he leaned forward, tongue flicking out to lick over her. A strangled cry ripped from her lips, back arching as after only a few expert swipes of his tongue, Tommy had her hurtling headfirst into an intense orgasm.

Grasping tightly at her thighs, Tommy pulled her closer to his mouth, hungrily lapping at her until she was nudging his head away from overstimulation. He sat up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and smirking. Lucy blinked up at him, hand pawing out to rub in interest along his chest, feeling the muscle ripple beneath her as she traced over the shape of his tattoos. Allowing her fingers to dip lower, it was her turn to smirk at the rather desperate noise that Tommy made when she cupped the large bulge in his trousers. She tugged at his belt, eyes narrowed demandingly.

“Off.”

He shifted off the bed for only a moment to strip off his trousers and underwear before crawling back over her, nose bumping against hers, bracing his arms on either side of her head. His eyes were incredibly soft, the icy blue thawed to a warm ocean.

“My beautiful girl,” he stroked her cheek, kisses pressed to her lips. Lucy wound her arms around his neck, thighs going around his waist. His erection burned where the thick length pressed against her inner thigh. Her core fluttered and clenched, wanting nothing more than to finally have him inside of her again.

In one swift move, she flipped them, careful so as to not accidentally send them both careening to the floor off of the narrow bed. 

“Yes,” Tommy breathed out at her straddling him, hands landing on her hips to help stabilize her. “Yes, fuck me.” His head fell back, eyes fluttering closed. “Please fuck me, Lucy.”

A shiver wracked through him as she gripped his shaft, stroking him in her fist before lining him up, her entire body shuddering as she slowly sunk down onto him. A moan fell from her lips, grasping at Tommy’s shoulders for stability, head tilted back as he filled her. Beneath her, Tommy growled, an arm going around her while the other clasped tight enough to her hip to leave bruises.

“Lucy,” he whispered, sitting up to press kisses along her collarbone. A swell of possessiveness washed over her, gripping his face in one hand and forcing him to look at her. The other hand rested over his chest, right above his heart.

“You’re mine,” she said, not room for argument in her voice. Tommy’s cock twitched inside of her at the words, eyelashes fluttering, pupils dilating until she could barely see any of the blue of his irises. One large hand covered hers, stroking the skin.

“I’m yours,” he agreed.

She leaned forward, lips pressing fully to his, and began to ride him. With his hips rolling up to meet hers with each bounce, they set a slow, deep pace, continuing to kiss languidly, hands caressing every inch of skin they could reach as they made love.

“Tommy,” she moaned, head falling backward and grasping at his hair tightly. “Tommy.” Her pace quickened, Tommy’s thumb pressing against her clit again, rubbing careful circles. With each stroke he was hitting her in exactly the perfect spot, stars dancing across her vision with each thrust.

“You gonna come for me again, love?” Tommy asked sweetly, devilish grin pulling at his cheeks when he felt her clench down on his cock at the sound of his rumbling voice. “Yeah, that’s it.”

A strangled sob left her lips, sinking her nails into Tommy’s back and earning a growl in response. Her next orgasm shuddered through her powerfully, leaving her legs shaking and head spinning. 

“Good girl,” Tommy praised, sitting up and wrapping her up in his arms, rolling them so that he was once again on top of her. His tempo grew faster with each thrust, fucking her through her second orgasm and almost directly into a third. Lucy moaned impossibly loudly, eyes rolling, the poor little bed rattling and squeaking with their combined movements. 

“I love you,” Tommy growled between thrusts. “I will always love you.” He hooked a leg over his hip, pumping into her furiously. Lucy pulled him down to kiss him hard, clinging to his back, legs wrapping more securely around his hips to keep him close. She could tell, by the way his breathing quickened and his cock twitched and throbbed, that he was close. He pushed her legs open and further back, like he was trying to get as deep inside of her as possible.

“I love you, too,” she said softly against his lips. Tommy moaned. “No matter what.”

He let out a bellowing roar, back arched as his cock twitched and throbbed powerfully inside her. Lucy cried out, the feeling of him pouring his cum inside of her triggering another orgasm, arms wrapping around Tommy’s shoulders while he thrusted as deep inside of her as he could get and stayed there, body trembling in her arms as he came hard.

Slumping against her, Tommy’s head burrowed into the crook of her neck, breath hot where it tickled her skin. His body was warm and heavy on top of hers, a welcome and comforting weight after so long without him. Lucy brought a hand up to stroke through his soft hair, peacefulness washing over them both. After a moment Tommy raised up on his arms, pressing a kiss to her lips before pulling out gingerly and shifting to lay on his side beside her. Or, he tried to. Considering the tiny space of the bed, he ended up situating them more so that she was settled on top of his chest with his arms around her. It reminded her of years ago, back when she would sneak into Tommy’s tiny flat in Small Health and they’d curl up together on his tiny bed, bodies pressed together. A hand petted through her thoroughly mussed red hair.

“Holy fuck.”

She laughed breathlessly, turning her face to press a kiss to the sunbeams tattooed around his pectoral. He ran his thumb along her bottom lip, grinning down at her while he caught his breath. 

“We’ve still got it, eh?”

She stretched up to kiss him tenderly. “Damn right.” Cuddling back into his chest, she let her eyes drop closed contentedly at the familiar warmth of him around her. 

Tommy shifted, grabbing the lighter she’d dropped on the nightstand and a pack of cigarettes that she must have left there, lighting one for himself. For a while they laid in peaceful silence, Lucy beginning to doze on his chest while he traced nonsensical patterns into her skin. There was no doubt in her mind that they weren’t even close to done for the night. If true to habit, Tommy would be ready to go again within a couple more minutes. They had a lot of catching up to do.  

“Tommy?”

“Hm?”

She frowned, trying to figure out how to word the question. Or if she should even ask it at all. It wasn’t really any of her business. Not really. But she couldn’t help but wonder, with the amount in which he’d just came in her…

“How much sex did you have after I moved out?”

He froze. Then reached over slowly to set his cigarette down into the ashtray, and tilted her face up by the chin to look at him. His throat worked, and she saw shame and guilt enter his eyes. 

“Only twice.”

She frowned. She had expected it to be a lot more than that. “That’s it?”

He nodded, wincing. “Once a few days after you moved out. I was drunk and…depressed and Lizzie was there. I think I might’ve called her by your name at one point, but she didn’t say anything about it. And then the second time was in the cupboard at her birthday party.”

Turning onto her side on his chest, she trailed her fingers up and down through the hair that sprouted between his pecs. “Oh. I figured it would be more.”

“I haven’t exactly been in the mood much, recently.” His fingers slid through her hair languidly. “I meant it, you know.”

“Meant what?”

“When I said that it wasn’t the same. It’s not. It’s better with you.”

She felt herself flush all the way from head to toe. “Really?”

“Mhm.” He pecked at her shoulder. “I dreamed about you.”

“You did?”

“Came in my sleep like a fucking teenager.”

She grinned at the mental image. He’d probably been so exasperated once he’d realized what had happened. 

She felt his hips shift a little against her.  

“And there was no one else? Other than Lizzie?”

“No. No one else.” He rubbed his nose along the length of her shoulder. “What about you, hm?”

“Nothing and no one.” She had never felt comfortable enough to be that vulnerable with someone else without Tommy there. With the exception of Grace. “Except my hand, once.” A wicked thought occurred to her. Tilting her head up, she let her lips graze across the base of his neck when she spoke. “In this bed. Thinking of you…”

“Fuck,” his hips bucked, pushing his swelling cock against her hip desperately. Lucy angled her head up to meet him when his mouth came crashing down onto hers.   

As soon they parted, he leaned in to press kisses to her neck. In a smooth movement he rolled them so that he was on top, growing erection grinding against her. Catching at his shoulders, Lucy pulled back just enough to look at him. 

“The others…” she started, biting her lip. “They’re just bodies, right?”

She saw understanding enter Tommy’s eyes at her repeating the term he had used earlier. Getting at what she was really asking. 

“Just bodies,” he agreed, leaning in to kiss her again, then chuckled and shook his head fondly. “As if I could make love to anyone else but you,” he tutted, hands running all over her body.

“Silver tongued bastard,” she crooned affectionately, hands tangling in his hair. Tommy chuckled, the vibrations against her chest making her shiver.

“You’re not going to be able to walk straight after I’m done with you…” his voice was beginning to get growly again, her core clenching around nothing as she whined and arched into the teasing touches that he was laying on her.

“Promises, promises,” she teased, grinning at the way his eyes lit up at the challenge.

And then her head was lolling back onto the pillow, moaning while her hands scrambled at his powerful shoulders, as with one expert forward thrust of his hips, he pushed inside of her once more. 

“Oh my God…” Tommy moaned wantonly, as if he'd just been reunited with the missing half of his soul. His eyes closed, head tipping back, face contorting with bliss. “Fucking hell, sweetheart.”

She gasped at the praise, grabbing onto him fiercely. Her legs squeezed around his hips while she clawed at his back as he set an absolutely brutal pace, thrusting into her so hard that the headboard struck the wall with each one.

Lucy moaned with abandon, not caring if the whole yard could hear her. Good God, how had she ever managed to live without this?

He felt fucking huge. Splitting her open with each thrust, filling her completely. She caught herself staring at the place where they were joined in awe, amazed that something so massive could actually fit in her. His cock glimmered with their combined juices every time he pulled out, a wet squelch sounding when he thrust back in balls deep, skin slapping together when their hips met.

She felt like she might combust from how good it all felt. And then he started talking. 

“This what you thought about, love? In this bed, all on your own? You imagine me splitting you open like this? Fucking you ‘til neither of us can move…Mm…” He thrusted all the way in and stayed there, grinding against her. His pubic bone slid against her clit wonderfully. “Squeezing me so tight, honey,” he purred when he picked the pace back up again. “Shit, you feel so good. Best fucking cunt I’ve ever been in…”

She sobbed at the praise, clinging to him for dear life. With a hand in his hair she dragged his mouth down to hers, kissing him greedily. His pace increased, pounding into her like a fucking animal. The bed creaked and groaned angrily under them.

“Right there,” she squeaked, head falling back against the pillows. The tip of his cock rubbed right up against that spot inside her again, stars bursting behind her eyes. “Right there, don’t stop, Tommy. Tommy, Tommy, Tommy…”

“Fuck,” he grunted, hands fisting in the sheets at either side of her head. “I’m not gonna last.”

She tightened her legs around him, urging him in deeper. His mouth found hers, tongues tangling, devouring each other’s moans. Their hands, the ones with the still healing cuts from their pact in the woods across their palms, entwined. Lucy could feel the band tightening within her. Just a little more…

There was a loud crack, and then a sudden snap from under them. Lucy yelped, finding herself suddenly and momentarily in free-fall. Above her, Tommy’s eyes widened, seizing her in his arms and curling his body protectively around her. 

It took her a moment to realize what happened. The support beams of the bed frame had completely snapped, leaving the mattress to fall unceremoniously onto the floor amongst the wooden wreckage of the broken frame. 

“Shit,” Tommy gasped out, cupping the side of her face. “Are you alright?”

She nodded, looking up at him with wide eyes. “You?” she choked out. He nodded to confirm that he was okay. They looked at each other, and then immediately descended into giggles. 

“Fucking hell,” Tommy chuckled, dropping his head into her neck. “What’s this thing made out of? Rotted wood?”

“It’s old,” she managed between wheezes. “It was already here when I arrived in 1918.”

“Mm,” he hummed, glancing around at the damage and shaking his head. When he returned his gaze to her, she felt the air around them shift again. His eyes darted over her face, lingering on her lips, and she was suddenly deeply aware of the fact that he was still very much buried inside her and throbbing. 

Hand sliding up to brace near her head, Tommy pushed himself up to kiss her again. This time slow and deep. Their mouths moved sensually together, tongues stroking as he started to slowly rock his hips. 

She clung to him like he was a lifeline, cradling his face and running her fingers through his hair. Tommy sighed deeply into her mouth, a hand running along her side to cup and squeeze one of her breasts, then creeping downwards to stroke her clit in time with his thrusts. 

“Ohhh, c’mere,” he shuddered, arm hooking around her, crushing her to his chest. And all the while he kept on kissing her. Over and over again. So tenderly and passionately it made her heart feel as though it were about to explode out of her chest. 

How could she have ever been so stupid as to have doubted his love for her? When he was making love to her like this, it was impossible to think that he didn’t adore her down to his very soul.  

She came softly, with her back arching and a soft gasp of his name shuddering from her mouth. He was not far behind, whispering her name and sweet nothings into her ear as he pressed in and emptied another generous load inside her. 

“This bed is fucking terrible,” he complained, after pulling out and shifting them so that she was laying on his chest once more. Lucy hummed in agreement. 

“Yeah. Probably did everyone a favor by breaking it.”

He snorted, pressing his smile into her hair. Sitting up, she straddled him, Tommy raising an intrigued eyebrow at the position, his hands resting on her hips.  

“You’re my favorite person,” she told him seriously. His eyes softened. 

“You’re my favorite too, sweetheart.”

Rubbing her thumb along his cheek, she smiled at him tenderly, reaching with her other hand for his cock. It twitched in interest against her palm, and Tommy smirked cockily. 

“I’m warning you now,” she leaned forward to murmur in his ear. “I’m gonna put that famous Shelby stamina to the test, my love.”

He looked absolutely delighted at the prospect. His cock throbbed. It didn’t take long for her to have to ready and raring to go once more, guiding him to her entrance and sheathing down onto him with a moan. 

Later, when they’d both kept their promises–him to fuck her until neither of them could move, and her to put his renowned endurance to the test–she looked up at him shyly from her spot curled up on his chest. “Thank you for not letting me go,” she said.

He caressed her cheek with his fingers, touch warm and gentle. “I promised you,” he whispered, as if there had never been any question in his mind that he would keep it. 

∗ ∗ ∗

Charlie was happy for them. Really. They’d both been so miserable during the separation. Everything was back to the way it should be.

But holy fuck, did they have to be so fucking loud about it?

He shot a glower towards the wall at the sound of another loud moan reverberating from the other side.

Fuck’s sake. He’d have thought that they’d have tired themselves out by now. They'd been at it for hours.

His cheeks and ears burned. He had managed to sleep for a little while, but then there’d been the sound of what he could only describe as a small earthquake next door, sending him shooting straight up in bed.

Ever since then, he’d been in and out. Just as he managed to doze off, they’d make some particularly loud racket that sent him jerking awake again. If he didn’t know better he would have suspected that they were doing it on purpose. Not even putting his pillow over his ears was enough to drown them out. 

Silence fell on the other side of the wall, and he let out a sigh of relief, closing his eyes. 

Then there was a loud…wet noise, and Tommy started promptly screaming Lucy’s name loud enough to bring the roof down.  

Nope. Nope. Uncomfortable as it may be to sleep in the stables, it was better than having to listen to this.

He snatched up his pillow and stomped irritably for the door, mumbling under his breath. 

Fucking Shelbys. 

∗ ∗ ∗

Tommy moaned, body shuddering with his orgasm as he pumped his hips at a languish pace a few times before stilling. Pressed deep inside of Lucy, his balls fluttering and tightening with each generous spurt of seed that he was filling her with. Below him, Lucy moaned, hands grasping at his back and shoulders as her walls clenched tight around him with her own release, milking him for absolutely everything he had.

He had awoken to her cradled warm and safe in his arms, red hair spread out on his chest where her head was nestled, their bodies practically intertwined with how closely they were pressed together in the tiny bed, arms and legs tangled together. 

He had fucked her deep into the night. Probably had kept poor Charlie awake with all the noise they’d been making. And when they were finally well and truly exhausted, they’d collapsed into a pile of sweaty, satisfied limbs and fallen asleep. That morning he allowed himself the chance to just admire her for a while as she slept. The soft strands of her hair, the freckles covering her face. The way her limbs twitched in her sleep and she snuggled closer to him. She was heartbreakingly beautiful. His favorite person in the entire world.

It was with soft kisses to her neck that he woke her, hands running adoringly over her soft skin. It had been around when she pressed a sleepy kiss to the tattoo encircling his left pec that his cock had inevitably stirred awake, and they ended up right where they left off the night before.

Now basking in their afterglows, Lucy laughed sweetly, hand petting through his dark hair.

“Good morning to you, too.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to a scar on her chest and sitting up. “We have meetings with constituents at the Garrison this morning.”

“How long do we have?”

His eyes glanced at the clock on the wall. “About an hour.”

“Oh, good,” she said, rolling them over so he was on his back with her hovering over him. Tommy laughed, grinning up at her almost boyishly. “We have enough time for this, then,” she murmured huskily, leaning down to kiss him heatedly. 

∗ ∗ ∗  

They just barely managed to be ready in time, pulling on clothes hastily and stuffing down some toast and eggs that Charlie prepared for them in the kitchen before heading outside. Tommy went to do a final quick check on the opium shipment, while Lucy greeted Charlie where he was sitting with his injured leg stretched out in front of him, watching Curly tend to the horses.

“Good morning,” he said to her.

“Morning.”

The man was eyeing her in quiet amusement, eyes darting between her and Tommy, who was walking towards them. “Sleep well?”

She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Between her legs, she ached wonderfully, and true to Tommy’s word, she was having a significant amount of trouble walking in a straight line. Her legs felt a little like jelly. “Oh, yes. Very much so.”

“Mhm.” Charlie smirked. ”Good.”

“You?”

“Bah. It was fine. These two assholes next door keep waking me up with the absurdly loud sex they were having, though.”

She cringed. “Shit. Sorry.”

Charlie shrugged with a smile, patting her on the arm. “I’m just glad that everything’s back to the way it should be, kiddo.”

“Hello, Charlie,” Tommy finally made his way over to them. 

“Shouldn’t you two be getting going if you don’t want to be late? I hear that they line up down the street sometimes to get a chance to talk to you.”

“Yeah, we do. But here, before we go,” he reached into his coat and pulled out a wad of cash, counting it out and passing it to Charlie. “For the bed.”

Charlie frowned. “What the fuck happened to the bed?”

“Tommy happened.” Lucy quickly pointed the blame. Tommy’s brows rose. 

“From what I remember it was very much a group effort.”

She bit her lip to try to keep from laughing. Charlie groaned, making a face.

“Ugh, God, I don’t want to know anymore. Just get out of my yard, you insatiable animals.”

Taking his advice, Tommy took hold of her hand, beginning to pull her towards the exit. 

“After we’re done meeting with constituents, we can go home,” he mumbled cheekily into her ear. “We have a whole new bed there to christen.” His eyes danced mischievously. “Maybe we’ll break that one too.”

Stopping them before they could leave the safety of the yard, she cupped both his cheeks with one hand. “Charlie’s right. You are insatiable.”

“Look who’s talking.”

She grinned, and leaned in when he kissed her. 

∗ ∗ ∗  

She did ask the question, later. As she would, every once in a while. For forever. But not always because she was beginning to have doubts, or because her insecurities were getting the better of her. Sometimes, she just wanted to hear his answer.

“Do you love me?” 

And Tommy answered in the same way that he would answer for the rest of their days. 

“Yes; I love you. I love you more than anything.”

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[vanilladollette]

Hey girl wassup, can you write about sweet female reader, with (all the characters if that's okay for u, if no, then jae Joon)

Female reader who is friends with Dong Eun and she had no idea that burns were from the bullies, and didn't know that jae Joon was apart of the incident, and when Dong exposes jae Joon, female reader goes from sweet to cold towards Jae Joon and breaks up with him, and lends him to be yandere.

(ALSO GIRL I WANNA SAY THAT I LOVE YOUR THE GLORY X READER ON, WATTPAD ♡ )

The Sweetest Poison

Pairing: Yandere Jeon Jae-Joon x Fem! Sweet Reader

Word count: 1.75k

Summary:After learning you left him upon discovering his past as your best friend's bully, Jae-Joon's heartbreak twists into a dangerous obsession.

Warnings: Bullying, Burns, toxic, violent behavior, cursing

A/n: I'm glad that you like Beneath The Surface!!! This took me awhile to write but thank you for being patient with me. Anyways, I hope you like this!

You couldn’t believe it, even as you replayed her words in your head. The signs were all there, and yet somehow, you’d missed them. How could you have missed something like that?

When Moon Dong-eun, your friend from high school, had contacted you, you were thrilled. It had been years since you’d last seen her. Her message had been brief, almost cryptic, saying she needed to talk about something important in person. Curious and eager, you’d agreed to meet her at a quiet café downtown.

As you approached the agreed-upon spot, you saw her sitting alone at a corner table. Dong-eun looked different but not unrecognizable. Her posture was composed, her expression serene yet distant, like someone who had seen too much and learned to mask it well. You felt a pang of nostalgia as memories of the once cheerful, soft-spoken girl from high school resurfaced.

“Dong-eun!” you greeted warmly, sliding into the seat across from her. “It’s been so long. How are you?”

Her smile was faint but sincere. “Hello, y/n. It’s good to see you.” Her voice had a weight to it, as though each word carried unspoken emotions.

The two of you exchanged pleasantries. You told her how you’d thought about her over the years, wondering where she’d gone and what had happened after she left school. You mentioned how devastated you were when you found her house empty, with no way to contact her.

“I’ve been well,” she said, her tone polite but guarded. “After leaving school, I went to college to study education. I’m a teacher now.”

“Wow, that’s wonderful!” you exclaimed, genuinely impressed. “I wouldn’t have guessed you wanted to be a teacher back then.”

“What about you?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. “How have you been?”

You gave a small laugh. “Oh, nothing as exciting as becoming a teacher, that’s for sure. Just working and… you know, living life.”

As the conversation lingered, you couldn’t help but feel there was something unsaid, something heavier lurking beneath her calm demeanor. Finally, you decided to ask.

“Anyway,” you began, leaning forward slightly, “what was it you wanted to talk to me about?”

Dong-eun hesitated, her fingers curling around the edge of her cup. Her gaze flickered downward for a moment, and when she spoke, her voice was soft but deliberate.

“You know,” she said, almost wistfully, “I always wondered how someone as kind as you could be so close to him.”

Her words caught you off guard. Him? You blinked, your head tilting in confusion. “Who are you talking about?”

She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, her eyes met yours, searching your face as though gauging your reaction. Finally, she asked, “Do you know why I dropped out of high school?”

You nodded slowly. “You were being bullied. I assumed that was the reason�� that you didn’t want to deal with it anymore.”

“Yes,” she confirmed, her voice steady. “But I never told you who my bullies were.”

A chill ran down your spine. Something in her tone made your stomach knot. You stayed silent, waiting for her to continue.

She took a deep breath, her fingers now toying with the hem of her sleeve. “One of them was Jae-joon,” she said finally, her words landing like a thunderclap. “He was one of them.”

Your breath caught. Jae-joon? You stared at her, your mind racing. Jae-joon, the same person you’d been close to all these years? The same person you’d trusted, laughed with, maybe even defended? The shock on your face must have been evident, because Dong-eun gave a sad, knowing smile.

“I’m guessing he never told you,” she said, her voice tinged with resignation. “I didn’t think he would. Why would he admit something like that to you?”

You were at a loss for words. Memories of Jae-joon flooded your mind—his easy smile, his charm, the way he always seemed so confident. You couldn’t reconcile the image of him with what Dong-eun was telling you. But then you thought about her, about how she’d suddenly vanished from your life, leaving no trace. And you realized… maybe you’d never really known Jae-joon as well as you thought.

“I’m sorry you had to find out from me,” Dong-eun said, breaking the silence. Her voice was soft but firm, her gaze unwavering.

You shook your head quickly, trying to process everything. “No… I—I needed to know.” Your voice trembled, and you suddenly felt a lump in your throat. “I’m sorry, but I… I have to go.”

Without waiting for her response, you grabbed your bag and stood. Your legs felt unsteady as you walked out of the café, the weight of her revelation pressing down on you like a heavy fog. As you stepped into the cold air, one question echoed in your mind: How had you missed it?

“Y/n, I’m home!” Jae-Joon called out from the entrance of your shared home, his voice echoing through the quiet space. The late hour clung to him like a shadow, exhaustion evident in the way he shrugged off his coat and draped it over the back of a chair.

“Y/n?” he called again, his tone softening slightly when no response came.

He moved through the house, his footsteps muffled on the carpet as he checked the usual places you might be. The kitchen was empty, the living room undisturbed. A flicker of unease settled in his chest as he made his way toward the bedroom.

Pushing the door open slowly, Jae-Joon’s eyes landed on your still figure lying on the bed, your back facing him. Relief warred with apprehension as he stepped closer, his voice low and uncertain.

“Y/n?”

When you didn’t stir, he perched cautiously on the edge of the bed beside you, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. His hand found your hip, a gesture meant to bridge the growing distance he felt between you. For a moment, he said nothing, unsure how to break the silence that had thickened between you lately.

“How was your day?” he finally asked, his voice tentative.

“Fine,” you replied curtly, your tone as cold as the wall you stared at.

Jae-Joon’s shoulders sagged under the weight of your indifference. The silence returned, heavier than before. Sighing, he rose and left the room to prepare for bed, the unspoken words hanging in the air like ghosts.

The next morning, Jae-Joon woke to find the bed empty. He blinked at the sunlight filtering through the curtains, assuming you were already up. The faint clink of dishes guided him to the kitchen, where he found you seated at the table with a bowl of untouched cereal in front of you. Your gaze was fixed on some indiscernible point ahead, your posture rigid.

“Morning,” he greeted, though the lightness in his tone faltered when you didn’t respond. Shrugging it off, he began rummaging through the cabinets for something to eat.

“When were you going to tell me that you gave Dong-eun those burns?”

Your voice cut through the stillness. Jae-Joon froze, his hand hovering over the coffee pot. Slowly, he turned to face you, his expression a mixture of confusion and unease.

“What?” he managed, his voice strained.

“Or were you just hoping I’d never find out?” Your voice trembled, though your eyes remained fixed ahead.

Jae-Joon’s throat tightened. “Who told you? Did Dong-eun tell you?” He approached the table, his movements deliberate.

“Answer my question,” you snapped, finally meeting his gaze. Your red-rimmed eyes and tear-streaked cheeks were like a punch to his gut. “Were you ever planning to tell me, Jae-Joon? Or did you think you could hide the fact that you were my best friend’s bully?”

His jaw clenched as anger flared in his eyes, a defense mechanism against the guilt clawing at him. “What did she tell you?” he demanded, his voice rising.

“Why are you so worried about what she said? Is it because it’s true?” you shot back, standing up abruptly.

The two of you locked eyes, the tension crackling between you like a live wire. You didn’t wait for his response. Turning on your heel, you strode toward the bedroom.

Jae-Joon followed close behind, his stomach twisting as he watched you yank a suitcase from the closet and toss it onto the bed. His heart sank further with every article of clothing you packed.

“Wait, what are you doing?” His voice cracked, the panic unmistakable.

“I’m done, Jae-Joon,” you said, your voice rising. “We’re over.” You zipped the suitcase with trembling hands, refusing to look at him.

“Y/n, wait!” He grabbed your wrist as you made for the door, his grip firm but not forceful. “Let’s talk about this. Please.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” You wrenched your arm free, your voice breaking.

Jae-Joon stood frozen as you walked out the door, the sound of your suitcase wheels scraping against the floor a bitter reminder of your departure. The silence that followed was deafening.

“FUCK!” The scream tore from his throat as he hurled a lamp across the room, the crash doing little to ease the storm raging inside him.

Grabbing his phone, he scrolled furiously through his messages until he found Dong-eun’s number. His hands shook as he hit the call button, the phone pressed tightly to his ear.

After several rings, her voice came through, calm and composed. “Hello?”

“WHAT DID YOU TELL HER?” he roared, his voice laced with fury.

“Simply the truth,” Dong-eun replied coldly.

“Because of you, Y/n left me!” His voice cracked, the admission spilling out like a wound reopening.

“Did you really think she wouldn’t find out, Jae-Joon?” Dong-eun’s voice was unyielding. “She deserved to know.”

He ended the call abruptly, hurling his phone across the room. Chest heaving, he sank onto the bed, his head in his hands.

Jae-Joon sat on the edge of the bed, his breathing ragged as the room fell silent. His hands shook. You were his—his light, his purpose, his everything.

You leaving wasn’t the end. It couldn’t be. He’d make you see that. He’d make you come back to him, no matter what it took.

A smile—a chilling, empty smile—spread across his face. You weren’t responding now, but that was fine. He didn’t need words. He knew where you were. He’d find you.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice soft, almost tender. “You’ll understand soon, Y/n. We’re meant to be.”

His heart pounded with renewed determination as he got up, his mind racing with plans. You belonged to him, and nothing would change that.

Nothing.

Taglist: @petersasteria

[ni-idea-07]

Pierced Little Bird.

Part 1. Part 2

TW: torture of minors, death of children, drowning, mild yandere But not as much as in the next installment, the Joker is a monster But Two Face tries to compete. In this chapter, the yandere theme will not be given as much relevance. English is not my first language.

-------

The Wayne mansion was quieter than usual. Bruce felt worse than ever and more alone than an abandoned dog in the middle of Christmas.

Dick was in Blüdhaven, Jason was still estranged from him –But at least on good terms–, Tim had taken a "break" since his father now knew that he was Robin. Stephanie had tried to take his place temporarily But that ended badly, so the place was left vacant for you

She promised not to have more Robins and wait for Tim to come back, but she couldn't. You offered so kindly after you defeated some robbers who robbed a woman leaving a nightclub, you were such an adorable young lady that you lit up the alley in which you practically cornered Batman –ironic–.

You were originally from Star City and had been Green Arrow's apprentice –yes, you had been Speedy–, something that helped Bruce accept you.

–"Please, Mr. Bat... I can be a good Wonder Girl" – you said with shining eyes, handing him a "curriculum vitae" detailing your skills as Green Arrow's former apprentice.

Bruce hesitated. He didn't want to drag another young girl into the dangerous life of vigilante, but your enthusiasm and determination broke through his defenses. And, although he wouldn't admit it, Alfred also played an important role.

–"Maybe just a few training sessions, but you won't use Bow and arrows." –Bruce yielded, while you jumped for joy.

Bruce trained you on a temporary basis, knowing that Tim would be back in a few months. However, he couldn't help but feel that something in his life was changing, especially seeing how you adapted to the role of Robin with such ease.

You were happy, too happy, and you loved being Robin. You were a good teammate, you knew how to defend yourself, and you followed every order to the letter, which gave you extra points.

Damn, Bruce adored you and would do anything to have a daughter like you and be able to be proud to say that you were his daughter. –You already had parents and that's why he couldn't adopt you–.

You were a very adorable and lively young woman, Dick adored you. You were an only child so you enjoyed being with Dick a lot, both of you were the "clown duo" according to Jason's nicknames. Even so, you also got along well with Jason, he was like the rebellious brother who talked back to Bruce. Jason also corrected your homework and you asked him what you didn't understand so you could finish it –if you didn't do your homework you wouldn't go out on patrol, it was an agreement you made with Bruce from day one–.

Although your parents loved you, their jobs left them little time for you. This, added to your need for attention and affection, made you more susceptible to the way Bruce was beginning to treat you, as if you were a daughter to him."

–"Look, Mr. Bat! With just one hand" you smiled as you hung from one of the bars in the Batcave gym.

–"I'll tell Dick not to teach you that anymore"– Bruce whispered more to him than to you.

While you were fully capable of taking care of yourself, that didn't stop him from overprotecting and pampering you.

Had you gotten hurt on patrol? Well, Dad Bruce would put a band-aid on you while telling you how well you had done. Yes, Bruce might not be a good father figure, but he loved being a father and couldn't help but break his walls with you.

During a mission, Scarecrow's toxin affected you severely. Bruce, worried, stayed by your side all night, holding you and whispering words to you. reassuringly as Alfred administered the cure. You fell asleep in his arms a little while later. But he woke you up two hours later to tell you to go back home so your parents wouldn't suspect anything.

Alfred, who had always been so reserved, found comfort in your presence at the mansion. He saw you as a spark of light in a home full of shadows, and every evening, when you came to greet him before leaving for the Batcave, he couldn't help but smile tenderly.

You had a big appetite so Alfred cooked a big meal for you after you got back from patrol.

When you missed patrol and the dinner Alfred had so lovingly prepared, Bruce felt hurt, like you had left him behind. He couldn't understand why you had decided to leave, even though he knew your parents needed you. The silent treatment he gave you that night was his way of dealing with the pain of seeing you leave, even though inside, he wished you were there, with him.

Your parents wanted to return to Star City, their previous home. However, upon arriving in Gotham, they couldn't help but feel trapped in the life they had chosen. You, on the other hand, didn't know if you wanted to leave anymore. Gotham had started to become your home, a place full of chaos but also of people who understood you in a way Star City never did.

One particular night you were on patrol with Batman, Two Face had recently escaped from Arkham and lately he had been imitating some of the Joker's "best" crimes.

This was ridiculous according to what Bruce had said, but somehow they had to stop him before he destroyed Gotham City. Still that night they couldn't see any trace of him.

It was a boring night, you were young and full of energy, you needed action. But it was already 4:00 AM and Batman sent you home. You needed to rest if you wanted to pass the exam tomorrow. Normally Bruce would take you in the Batmobile and leave you 5 blocks from the apartment where you lived with your parents, but tonight it wouldn't be necessary, the streets were quiet and although it was strange it was nothing to worry about, they both made sure of that.

But how wrong they were.

–"Help! Please someone help me!"– a woman screamed in an alley.

You ran until you reached the alley where you expected to find anything but what you found. The screaming woman was fine but as soon as you approached her, men twice your size grabbed you, one by each arm.

–"What's going on?"– you asked as you tried to free yourself.

–"I promise you that none of this is personal"– a man spoke who came out of the darkest part of the alley, it was Harvey Dent or rather Two Face.

You could only open your mouth before he put a taser to your neck. Everything was reduced to pain and you soon fell unconscious.

====================================

You woke up who knows how long later, you were on the ground with your wrists tied behind your back, your ankles were also tied.

You hurt all over, the disgusting bathroom only made you want to vomit and cry from helplessness. You were scared. You had fallen into a trap and you didn't even have time to fight.

A kick landed on your stomach leaving you breathless.

–"Are you awake?"– asked Two Face. –"Well, it's time to start, heads: I'll kill you after hitting you a little, tails: I'll let you go after a little torture."

The coin turned and landed on heads.

–"Alright, heads. Let's get on with it, Wonder Girl."

Another kick landed on your torso, you could only bend in place but still couldn't stop the torture that was coming.

–"You, turn on the camera, I want the bat to have a souvenir at the end of the day"– Harvey spoke to one of his henchmen while he was still kicking you.

You lost count of how many kicks he gave you, but you could barely breathe. Still, everything came to your mind, if Two Face discovered your identity he would go after your parents, your beloved parents. Then he would go after Bruce and soon the whole city would know Batman's identity and soon Nightwing's, Red Hood's, Oracle's and absolutely all the other vigilantes of Gotham, and even, if he investigated a little more he would discover the identities of all the heroes of the Justice League.

All that was what you thought in seconds, even imagining how Bruce would hate you after his identity was revealed.

But that was a stupid thought of yours. You didn't know it yet but Harvey would do everything to you except let you live.

You were scared, he tortured you a lot, he started by taking off your combat boots and ripping out your toenails.

–"I swear this is nothing personal, I even like you, but I can't let that stupid fifth-rate clown keep the achievement of having killed a Robin. It wouldn't be fair, right?"

You could barely think of your beloved parents and Bruce, even Oliver. All you could do was scream......

He got tired of hearing your screams and pleas, he grabbed a coin –"let's do this, heads: I'll cut your tongue out. Tails: I'll sew your mouth shut."

The coin was flipped and for your luck or bad luck it landed heads. The pain on your face was the first thing you felt, Harvey hit you in the face and then opened your tongue and grabbed it with his fingers and then cut it off with a knife.

The pain was too much that you couldn't even scream anymore, your body completely tensed up.

–"Oh, are you dead already?"– he laughed when he saw that you didn't even scream. –"I never thought that capturing a Robin would be so easy, I guess it's because you're just a child, a young and pathetic child. In fact, I have an idea....".

He smiled and took off your domino mask. You closed your eyes, the idea that he would know your name came to your mind, that he would do something to your parents and your friends.

–"Wow, I don't have the slightest idea who you are."

You practically let out a sigh of relief which didn't last long, Harvey began to fill the tub with water.

–"It was nice meeting you, wonder girl."– he mocked before grabbing your hair tightly and dragging you so that you were kneeling next to the tub.

His double face smiled before submerging your head in the water.

===================

Bruce had been worried, you hadn't shown up in days, nor did you show any signs of being sick. Your parents were also worried and they put up posters all over the city.

But you didn't show up.

One night Nightwing and Batman were able to catch Two Face but he just laughed when he saw that they still didn't know what had happened to you.

It wasn't until Bruce saw the tape that Harvey gave him.

Two full hours where he tortured you, hurting you, drowning you... until your small body stopped moving.

Bruce tried to figure out where it was and it wasn't hard to connect the dots and know that your missing body was still there.

The bathroom where they found you belonged to a horrible abandoned building. Rats had already eaten some parts of your body, your face had dried blood coming out of your mouth. Still, that didn't stop him from kneeling down and hugging your cold body.

The Wayne family was never the same. You were buried in Wayne Cemetery, Bruce, Dick, Oliver and Roy carried your coffin.

Your parents never found out about that, they never knew you had been found and buried.

Bruce couldn't allow your parents to bury you in Star City or somewhere else where he couldn't visit you daily.

Soon Tim took up the mantle of Robin again before Damian arrived a year later and became the new Robin.

Still, the family was worse than ever.

Dick came over from time to time and still waited for the silly and innocent jokes you made, he got depressed when he saw you weren't coming back.

Jason was almost off the radar, after all, he only came to the mansion because you always found a way to bring him back and after Jason killed Two Face by dismembering him, Bruce didn't want to talk to him anymore.

Tim was also depressed, he had lost Stephanie, his father, and you. But Stephanie reappeared as Spoiler.

Those were the worst years for Bruce, another loss. He couldn't protect you and tortured himself daily watching the video of your torture.

Many times Alfred found Bruce sleeping in front of your tombstone.

–"Sir, Master Damian is waiting for you for dinner. You don't want your pasta to get cold" Alfred said as he found Bruce watching the video again.

–"I'm not hungry" he answered, repeating the video again.

–"Miss Y/N didn't like you skipping dinner, especially if there was company."

Bruce sighed and stood up, ready to face his new son. He was still trying to get used to having a biological son.

Dinner was silent, Bruce didn't want to talk, much less eat.

–"Whose room is next to mine?"– Damian asked.

Bruce didn't know how to answer, it was the room he made for you after you died, one where he had recreated each of the things you liked. He was still waiting for you to come back, he wasn't ready to let you go.

–"it's for Y/N....."

There was a small silence, Damian already knew who you were since he had found some photos that you had taken with Dick, both of you making silly and expensive poses. He knew the pain you had caused by dying.

–"mm...."

Suddenly there was a series of knocks on the large door of the mansion. That made Bruce go on alert, he wasn't expecting visitors and to get to the mansion you had to go through the large main gate first. In any case the intruder alarm should have gone off.

Bruce approached the door as did Alfred. And the latter was the one who opened the door with caution.

Alfred was in shock as soon as he saw who it was and then turned his head to where Bruce was.

–"sir.....you won't believe it"

-------------------

Ugh, I've been thinking about this for a long time and I hope I've expressed myself correctly.

If you have any questions or want more information, don't hesitate to ask.

I am still working on open orders, please leave me your request and I will be happy to fulfill it.

Regards 🫠

[baeksqt]

𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐩𝐭. 𝟐 — alexia putellas

alexia putellas x barcelona!reader

a/n: fun fact, I had actually cut the whole piece part in half, due to me feeling like it was getting long winded but also adding like 2000 more words cause I didn't like how I ended it ijbol, but it seems like you guys enjoyed it so here’s the rest of it \(^ヮ^)/

word count: 4164

genre: somewhat fluff with angsty tendencies

tw: emotional cheating

now playing: swim by renee rapp

summary: trying to keep your heart in check, but alexia's charm finally slipped through the cracks

You were determined to put everything behind you. Arriving to training early, hoping that focusing on football would clear your head. Going through your routine with extra intensity, pushing yourself harder than usual, letting the rhythm of drills drown out the noise in your mind. 

But then Alexia arrived.

She walked onto the pitch with that effortless confidence, her hair tied back in a high ponytail, her sharp eyes scanning the field before landing on you. A small, knowing smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

“Someone’s eager today,” the footballer called out as she jogged over, her confident stride matching the lively rhythm of the drill. In a swift motion, she fell into step beside you, her foot deftly stealing the ball from your control.

“Just trying to stay sharp,” you replied, forcing a casual shrug to mask the competitive spark within. With determination, you lunged forward, tackling the ball back into your possession.

Alexia’s gaze lingered on you, a thoughtful smile playing at the corners of her lips. “Good. I like that about you,” she remarked, her voice warm and encouraging.

You rolled your eyes, a playful grin breaking through your facade. “You like winning. And I help with that,” you shot back, a teasing edge in your tone as you both relished the friendly rivalry.

“True.  But I like a lot of things.”

You ignored the way that made your stomach twist and focused on the drill as Coach Romeu blew the whistle.

As training wrapped up, the team broke into groups, chatting and joking while stretching on the sidelines. You sat on the grass, taking light sips of your water when Mapi and Ingrid flopped down next to you. 

“You and Alexia seem to be getting along well,” Mapi teased, nudging you with her knee, “she’s been glued to your side lately.”

You maintained a calm and composed expression, letting no emotion escape as you replied, “She’s the captain. It’s her responsibility to ensure we feel at ease.” 

Ingrid leaned back, a smirk dancing across her lips, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Sure, but that’s not the impression she’s giving off,” she quipped, an eyebrow raised as if challenging your words.

You shook your head, a light laugh escaping your lips, dismissing their concerns. “You two are overanalysing the situation,” you said, trying to inject a sense of levity into the conversation.

But you could feel Alexia’s eyes on you from across the field.

After training, you ducked into the locker room early, hoping to avoid another one-on-one with Alexia. Moving quickly, you shoved your gear into your bag when you heard the familiar voice behind her. 

“Leaving so soon?”

You closed your eyes briefly before turning around. “Yeah, I’ve got things to do.”

“You’re always running off. What’s the rush?” Alexia leaned against the lockers, arms crossed, watching you with that same easy confidence.

You met her gaze once more. “Just…life outside football, you know?”

“You never really talk about it.”

“Not much to tell.” You shot back.

You felt the weight of the words. It wasn’t an accusation, but it sure felt like one. “You should let me take you out sometime. Show you what Barcelona is really like. Madrid has nothing compared to here.” The blonde suggested.

Your breath caught in your throat. There it was, undeniable, unmistakable. And for a brief moment, the idea of saying yes flickered in your mind. But Lucia’s face surfaced in your thoughts, and reality came crashing down.

“I…” you started, shaking your head, “I don’t really have time for that.”

Alexia studied you for a moment, as if searching for something beneath the polite refusal. Finally, she nodded, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. 

“Alright. But if you change your mind—” 

You found yourself cutting her off, the words spilling out before you could think them through. “—walk with me?” The request left your lips almost involuntarily, and you could hear the uncertainty in your own voice. You weren’t certain why you had asked; perhaps it was a longing for connection, or maybe a desperate attempt to ease the tension that hung between you like a heavy fog.

For a moment, you studied Alexia's face, noticing the flicker of hesitation that crossed her features. Time seemed to stretch as she weighed her options, the silence stretching uncomfortably. Finally, she nodded, the expression in her eyes shifting to one of reluctant agreement. “Yeah, alright.” The softness in her voice suggested a mixture of curiosity and caution, and you could feel a small rush of hope at her response.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden hue over Barcelona, the streets settled into a serene ambience. The gentle murmur of conversations floated through the air as clusters of people began filtering out of offices, their footsteps echoing softly on the cobblestone pathways. An air of tranquillity enveloped the evening, punctuated only by the distant laughter from a nearby café. 

At this moment, the silence between you and Alexia felt comfortable at first, familiar like an old song. Yet, you couldn't shake the unsettling awareness of her gaze lingering on you. Out of the corner of your eye, you could sense her curiosity, her expression a blend of contemplation and intrigue amidst the fading light.

Eventually, she broke it. “You don’t have to tell me everything, you know. But…you can talk to me.”

You swallowed hard, the action sending a ripple of tension through your throat. Your fingers tightened around the strap of your bag, a familiar habit when you felt exposed or vulnerable. Alexia stood before you, her eyes searching—probing deeper, trying to penetrate the thick walls you’d built around your heart. For a fleeting moment, you felt a flicker of temptation to let her in, to lower your defences and share the weight you carried.

But then, like a shadow creeping in, the image of Lucia flashed in your mind. You felt warmth spread through your chest as you remembered her infectious smile—bright and genuine, the kind that could melt the heaviest of hearts. You recalled the sound of her laughter, light and carefree, resonating like music in your soul. Lucia had always been your anchor, offering unwavering love and support without hesitation, regardless of the storms you encountered.

“I know,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I appreciate it.” The sincerity of your words felt like a fragile bridge between you and Alexia, one that you weren’t sure you wanted to cross.

Alexia nodded slowly, her expression a blend of concern and understanding, unreadable like a closed book. “Alright. Just…don’t keep yourself locked up too tight, chica.” Her tone was gentle yet firm, as if she was trying to impart wisdom born from her own experiences. As you turned to part ways, you felt the weight of her words settle deep in your chest, resonating like a long-forgotten melody.

You were left grappling with the meaning behind her statement. Was it a warning—an acknowledgement of the danger in isolation—or perhaps an invitation to open up, to let someone in amidst the chaos? Maybe it was a combination of both, a call to find balance in a world that had often felt too heavy to bear alone.

Later that night, Lucia’s messages were waiting for you, but you hesitated before picking it up.

You typed out a quick message: Hey, sorry, it’s been a long day. Miss you.

Almost immediately, your girlfriend replied: I miss you too. Are you okay?

Staring at the blinking cursor, you paused. You could tell Lucia. You should tell Lucia, about Alexia, about the way things were starting to feel…complicated. But what would you even say?

Instead, you typed: Yeah. Just tired.

You told yourself that you weren’t doing anything wrong. It was just training. Just football. Just Alexia being Alexia. 

But the truth was, you felt yourself softening. It was in the little things. The way you didn’t always pull away when Alexia got too close, the way you found yourself looking forward to the moments alone after training, the way your heart didn’t hammer in panic anymore when she teased you. Instead, it did something worse. It fluttered.

It wasn’t like you meant to let it happen. It just…did.

After another late training session, Alexia caught up with you outside the locker room. The sun setting over the stadium, casting long shadows across the field, and you were in no hurry to leave. “Come on, I’m starving. Let’s grab something to eat.” Alexia nudged your arm, matching your slow pace. You wavered, but this time, it wasn’t immediate. The excuses that usually came so easily, I have things to do, I should call Lucia, I should keep my distance, felt weaker. “Okay,” you said before you could overthink it. Just dinner, nothing more.

Sitting across from Alexia in a quiet little cafe tucked away in the heart of Barcelona, you felt yourself relaxing in a way you hadn’t expected. Talking about football, about music, about the things you missed from home. You had laughed more than you had in weeks, and for a little while, you forgot about the gnawing guilt in your chest.

“You’re different when you’re off the pitch,” Alexia observed at one point, watching you closely, sitting opposite you. 

“What do you mean?” You blinked.

Alexia shrugged. “You seem…lighter. Less guarded.” 

“I guess I just focus a lot when we’re training.” You felt your stomach twist.

The footballer leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her hand. “Yeah, but you don’t have to do that with me, you know.” she poured herself water from the ceramic jug. “So, who’s the mysterious someone?”

“It’s nothing,” You stumbled over your words, heart stuttering. “Nobody, even.”

And at that moment, you thought about Lucia, About how easy things used to be. About how complicated they felt now. Alexia didn’t press, just smiled and changed the subject, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that Alexia was waiting—for something, for her.

And you were starting to wonder if you were waiting too.

Later that night, you lay on your sofa, barely focused on the telenovela playing on your TV. Your phone buzzed in your hand, Lucia. You hesitated before picking it up. 

“Hey,” you said softly.

“Hey,” Lucia’s voice was warm and familiar, but you felt an ache deep in your chest at how far away it sounded. “I was starting to think you forgot about me.”

You closed your eyes. “Never.”

Lucia laughed softly. “You okay? You’ve been quiet lately.”

“Yeah, just…training’s been a lot.” You bit your lip. It wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t the full truth either.

“I get it,” Lucia said gently. “I miss you though.”

“I miss you too,” you whispered, but even as you said it, you couldn’t shake the memory of Alexia’s smile from your mind.

You woke up the next morning with a heavy weight in your chest. The events of the past few days played over and over in your head as you stared at the ceiling. Alexia’s teasing words, the way she lingered too close, the way you let it happen.

It had to stop.

You couldn’t keep toeing this delicate line, couldn’t continue to disguise the reality of your feelings. The gentle cadence of Lucia’s voice lingered in your mind, a soft and warm reminder from last night’s call: “I miss you.” You had echoed her sentiment in return, yet an unsettling doubt had begun to creep in; did you truly mean it the same way anymore? The mere contemplation of that question sent a shiver of dread coursing through you.

As you pulled into the parking lot for training, resolve washed over you like a tide. You knew what you needed: distance. A break from Alexia. A breath away from whatever confusing emotions were brewing between you and her. The weight of your decision felt both heavy and liberating, a beacon guiding you toward a clearer path in the midst of the emotional fog.

Alexia noticed immediately. During passing drills, you were efficient and precise—but distant. No small smiles, no stolen glances, no playful banter. Just football. At first, she brushed it off, assuming you were just having an off day. But as training went it, it became impossible to ignore. When she tried to nudge your shoulder during water breaks, you shifted away. When she joked with you after a goal, you only nodded stiffly and jogged back to position.

By the end of the session, Alexia was frowning, watching you grab your things from the locker without so much as a word. “Chica,” Alexia called out, catching up to you just outside the stadium, “what’s going on?” 

You kept your eyes on the pavement. “Nothing. Just tired.”

Alexia studied you, unconvinced. “Come on. Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” Your jaw tightened.

“Shut me out,” Alexia said delicately. “Did I do something?”

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to meet Alexia’s gaze, and for a moment, you felt that same familiar pull, the one you’d been trying so hard to ignore. But you couldn’t let herself fall into it again. 

“We’re teammates, Alexia,” you said, your voice carefully measured. “That’s all this is. And I think we should keep it that way.”

Something flickered in the footballer’s eyes. Surprise, disappointment, something else that you couldn’t name.

“You don’t really believe that.” Alexia scoffed.

You tightened your fists at your sides, a fierce burn igniting behind your ribs as adrenaline coursed through you. “I do.” Alexia's gaze bored into yours, searching your expression with an intensity that felt almost tangible, as if she was peeling back layers to discern whether you were hiding the truth. Perhaps you were—just a sliver of it.

“Alright,” she finally relented, stepping back, the distance between you feeling monumental. “If that’s what you truly want.”

You nodded, the sharp edge of resolve mingling with a piercing sting in your chest that deepened with every passing moment. Turning away, you felt the weight of each step press down upon you, dragging your heart along with it. But just as the space between you widened, Alexia's voice cut through the air, softer now, tinged with what seemed like regret. “You know,” she said, her words lingering like an echo in the silence, “you can run from this all you want. But it won’t change how you feel.”

Your breath caught in your throat, a lump forming as you fought the urge to turn back. Instead, you continued moving forward, each footfall heavy and deliberate, with the sensation of an invisible anchor pulling you down.

You thought that putting distance between you and Alexia would make things easier.

It didn’t.

Lucia’s messages became more frequent, and you would respond quickly, forcing yourself to engage, to remind yourself where you belonged. You told her you loved her, that you missed her, and tried to ignore the gnawing feeling in your chest when you said it. 

But despite your best efforts, Alexia was always there.

Days passed, then weeks, and the tension only grew. Alexia didn’t push anymore, no teasing remarks, no lingering looks, no casual touches that sent your heart into overdrive. She respected your decision, and that should have made you feel relieved. Instead, it felt worse. Because now, Alexia was cold too. She was still kind, still professional, but she didn’t seek you out like she used to. During drills, she passed the ball to you with the same precision as always, but without the usual grin that came with it. In the locker room, she sat with the others, laughing and chatting, but never near you.

It was exactly what you wanted. So why did it feel like a loss?

One night, you called Lucia. The moment you heard her voice, warm and full of love, you felt a pang of guilt.

“Hey, you,” Lucia started gently. “I was hoping you’d call earlier.”

You smiled faintly. “Yeah, training ran late.” The excuse you would repeat to her constantly in the past was now a reason.

“You’re always working so hard,” Lucia murmured. “I wish I could be there with you.”

You closed your eyes, the familiar ache settling in. “Me too.”

But even as you said it, your mind drifted, to the way Alexia had looked at her earlier, an unreadable expression in her eyes when you crossed paths in the gym. The way you had felt that pull again, despite everything.

“Are you okay?” Lucia asked, a hint of concern in her voice.

You swallowed. “Yeah. Just tired.”

A pause. Then, softly, “You know you can talk to me, right?”

“I know.” You nodded even though Lucia couldn’t see you.

But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

The following day, you avoided Alexia all morning, keeping to yourself, focusing on your drills, and when training ended, you planned to slip away quickly. But as you turned the corner towards the locker room, almost colliding with the blonde.

“Whoa,” Alexia breathed, her fingers wrapping around your arm with surprising urgency just as you were about to retreat. “In a hurry to get away?”

Your heart pounded in your chest at her touch, a jolt of electricity racing through you, but you fought to keep your expression steady. “Yeah, I just need to—”

“Talk to me?” Alexia cut in, her grip softening but still lingering as if reluctant to let you go. “Because I honestly think we should.”

Her tone shifted, turning serious as she leaned in slightly, the playful atmosphere fading. “Listen, I get it. You’ve got someone in your life, and I respect that. But it feels like you’re trying to push me away as if I don’t even matter.”

“I’m not trying to—” Guilt clawed at your throat, the weight of her words sinking in.

“You are,” she asserted, crossing her arms tightly and leaning against the doorframe, her posture radiating both defiance and vulnerability. “You've been avoiding me, and it shows. But if this is the way you want it, I won’t fight back. I just want you to be honest—with me and with yourself.”

“What do you want me to say, Alexia? I am being honest. I’m with Lucia, and I don’t want to jeopardize that,” you shot back, the frustration bubbling over as you met her gaze, the intensity causing you to realize only then that you had said Lucia's name out loud.

Alexia’s expression hardened, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I hope she’s worth it,” she said sharply, pushing off the doorframe and creating a palpable distance between you. The tension in the air thickened like a storm on the horizon.

And just like that, she was gone, leaving you staring at the empty space where she stood.

You hadn’t meant to miss training. 

The first day, you told yourself you just needed a break, one morning to clear your head. But then one day turned into two, and then three, and by the time the fourth day rolled around, you couldn’t face the idea of walking back onto the pitch and pretending everything was fine.

Your phone buzzed constantly with messages from the team, from Mapi, Ingrid, and even coach Romeu. But you ignored them all. Except for one.

Alexia: Where are you? You okay?

Simple. Direct. No teasing, no pressure. 

You stared at the message a little while longer before locking your phone and curling deeper into the sofa. You didn’t know how to answer, you barely knew what you wanted anymore.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the streets of Barcelona as the evening chill settled in. Alexia stood outside your apartment door, her breath forming small clouds in the crisp air. She raised her hand and knocked with a delicate yet firm knock once, then twice. Silence enveloped her, save for the soft rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. Just as she lifted her hand to knock again, the door creaked open a fraction, revealing you on the other side. The faint light illuminated your face, highlighting the deep shadows under your tired eyes, a testament to sleepless nights. You blinked, momentarily taken aback by the sight of her. “What are you doing here?” you murmured, the words barely escaping your lips as surprise washed over you.

Alexia crossed her arms. “You weren’t answering your phone. And you’ve missed training.”

You sighed, rubbing your temple. “I just…needed some time.”

“Can I come in?” Alexia softened.

You paused, the weight of indecision settling in your chest, before reluctantly stepping aside. Alexia entered the room, her gaze sweeping over the shadowy expanse of the apartment. The soft glow of the single light bulb illuminated the chaos, a tangle of cosy, crumpled blankets draped carelessly over the sofa as if they had been cast aside in a moment of weariness. Scattered around the coffee table were an assortment of half-eaten takeout containers, remnants of forgotten meals that spoke to long nights and untamed hunger. An unmistakable sense of fatigue lingered in the air, wrapping around the room like a heavy blanket, amplifying the atmosphere of exhaustion that hung in every corner.

“Do you want to me what’s going on?” Alexia asked softly as she perched on the armrest of the worn sofa, her presence both comforting and disarming. You couldn't quite fathom why she continued to show you such kindness despite the way you had been acting over the past few months. As you sank deeper into the plush cushions, a heavy sigh escaped your lips, a mix of frustration and resignation. “I’ve been feeling… off,” you confessed, searching for the right words. “I thought maybe taking some time for myself would help clear my head.”

Alexia tilted her head, studying you. “And? Has it?”

You wavered before shaking your head. “No. Not really.”

There was a beat of silence before Alexia leaned forward, her tone soft but firm. “Come with me.”

“What?” You frowned.

“You need to get out of here,” Alexia said, standing up and offering a hand. “You need a distraction. You still haven’t taken up my offer to show you around Barcelona, remember?”

You stared at Alexia’s outstretched hand. You know you should say no. You should tell her to leave and call Lucia instead. However, you found yourself nodding slowly, placing your hand in Alexia’s.

“Okay,” you mumbled, “give me 10 minutes.”

Alexia smiled, giving your fingers a small squeeze before pulling you up. “I know just the place.”

The city was alive this evening, bustling with tourists and locals alike. Alexia took you through winding streets of the Gothic Quarter, stopping at hidden cafes and scenic overlooks with the ease of someone who had grown up here. 

You walked along the beach, the waves lapping softly at the shore, and you found yourself breathing easier for the first time in days. 

“So,” Alexia said, kicking at the sand lightly. “Feeling better?”

You glanced at her, a small smile tugging at your lips, “Yeah. I am.”

“Told you I was good at distractions.” the Spaniard grinned.

You playfully rolled your eyes, but for once, you didn’t feel the usual resistance tugging at your chest. As you both made your way back through the narrow streets, Alexia suddenly stopped in front of a small gelato shop. “Okay, this place? Best in the city.” 

You chuckled. “You always say that.”

“Because it’s always true,” Alexia shot back, dragging you inside.

You sat outside with your gelato, the city lights twinkling around you, as you sat on the cobblestone street, you took in the scent of flowers in the distance.

“You’re different tonight,” Alexia watched you carefully. “In a good way.”

You exhaled, staring down at your half-eaten gelato. “I think I just got tired of fighting it.”

Alexia’s eyes softened. “Fighting what?”

You met her gaze, and for the first time in weeks, you didn’t look away. “You.”

The air between you shifted, heavy and electric. Alexia set her spoon down and leaned in, her voice barely a whisper. “Cariña…”

Before you could fully process the moment, you stepped closer, bridging the gap that had kept you apart. With a tender urgency, your lips found Alexia’s in a soft, tentative kiss, a gentle exploration tinged with a hint of watermelon sweetness lingering on her lips. The initial uncertainty quickly melted away as Alexia began to respond, awakening something deep within you that had been tightly wound and yearning to be released. When you finally broke the kiss, the world around you seemed to pause, and Alexia leaned into you, resting her head against your shoulder. A soft, breathless laugh escaped her lips, light and airy, as if the weight of unspoken words had lifted. “So…does this mean you’re finally done running?” she asked, her voice a teasing whisper enveloped in warmth.

You smiled, feeling lighter than you had in weeks. “Yeah, I think I am.”

And for the first time, you didn’t feel guilty.

[hotdogshipping-miwa-enthusiast]

Miwa mini talk! Or at least one of my favorites

I love how he just gives up and Kai is like “no you’re supposed to drag me along :(“ so sad Miwa isn’t willing to deal with his loner stick

@vgzeroarchive

[batsplat]

I’m not sure if this is something you’ve ever done so if your answer is “lol no” totally fine!! But I was wondering if you’d be willing to do a kind of race breakdown of Laguna seca ‘08? Or maybe just of the key moments? I watched it and a) fucking loved it. Truly incredible. 24 laps of these guys within a second of each other like HOW???? Can’t believe that actually happened this sport is so insane. But b) I think maybe I just don’t know enough abt motogp yet but I don’t understand why Casey was sooo angry with Vale after? I get the 4th lap corkscrew send was extremely dicey but like…the rest of it just looked like hard racing to me??? Am I missing something?? And Casey seemed to be racing him BACK just as hard? Even when Casey goes off & falls that wasn’t even really fully Valentino’s fault, I didn’t think? Like his overtake pushed Case a bit wide, BUT they’d just been trading overtakes back & forth, and also it looked like his original push wasn’t enough to make Casey go off but then Casey kind of made a mistake and wobbled a bit further into the gravel? Am I wrong?? What do I not understand yet lmaoooo help me batsplat you’re my only hope <3

yay laguna 2008 enjoyer <3 okay so, full disclosure, somebody sent me an ask about this... uh, quite a long time ago. and it's something I do want to do because a lot of my casey posts keep dancing around how I don't have a specific laguna post to refer back to. AND it's so key to the psychology of that rivalry that you do kinda need to go into the weeds with that race to really get their whole deal. AND it is a race I have extremely extensive notes on, in terms of the build up (which I've obviously already posted a lot of on this blog) and the aftermath, but also for the race itself. so this WILL be posted at some point, hopefully like. this year

the main stumbling blocks have been a) for lap by lap analysis, it makes sense to have a bunch of screenshots. which is finicky anyway, but even more so with tumblr's image limits. just takes time to do - and I've been busy enough these last couple months I've mostly been posting things I write up quite quickly. and b) that sense of... well, it's fine if I do it in my own notes where it's just for me, but if I'm posting analysis in public - even if about four people are reading it - I am deeply, deeply aware of the gaps of my knowledge in this sport. like, I've done my due diligence in that I have read as much reporting as possible about the race, listened to both versions of the commentary I have available on numerous occasions, etc etc. but I've only ever posted sports Analysis online for tennis. which is a sport I am actually an expert in, and feel entirely confident in my ability to analyse as well as anyone. tbh. and the contrast does make me painfully aware of my own limitations when it comes to analysing An Actual Race in motogp, like you can tell when someone doesn't know what tf they're talking about

which is particularly pertinent given that my read on this race does take a somewhat sceptical view of some of casey's assertions, based on all of the evidence I have at my disposal. and I am wary of that, because obviously he would know a lot better than me!! one problem is that casey does lean into rather vibes-based descriptions himself at times, which aren't particularly easy to fact check. like, he talks about being able to read other riders' body language on the bike and just never quite feeling on the same wavelength as valentino. which may well be true, but obviously I have absolutely zero way of assessing that

with laguna specifically, he's repeatedly said that while he DID have a problem with the corkscrew overtake, it was actually a lot of the other stuff that was bothering him too. as far as I understand it, a lot of it's about the lines valentino was taking - which is more about defending than the actual overtakes. I think the main actually identifiable culprits are... first of all. how valentino behaved down the main straight, with casey consistently getting a better run out of the last corner and the ducati straight line advantage giving him an edge in that bit of the track. after having been overtaken on the inside of turn 1 early on, valentino took care to hug the inside before running casey wide towards the outside edge of the track - making it so that any overtake into turn 1 would be quite dangerous. now, it's worth pointing out that an overtake into turn 1 is ALWAYS quite dangerous. the rider consensus on that turn (which is really more of a kink in the track before you get to the tricky turn 2 hairpin) is that it's more terrifying than the corkscrew - very fast and because of the elevation change, you're taking it completely blind where you quite literally cannot see the track ahead of you. one of the truly all time great overtakes in the sport actually comes in 2011, casey on jorge into turn 1 around the outside. it's something casey specifically is just crazy skilled at, to an extent where he's said that HE doesn't find it dangerous because he knows he can pull it off. but it is always a helpful reminder that laguna 2008 was very much an insane guy-off. valentino started it but casey DID respond, and repeatedly overtakes valentino at the most terrifying bit of the track. his perception of what is 'risky' or 'dangerous' is still not exactly in line with that of normal people

the other substantive critique is... well. casey hasn't quite gone all the way on this, but he certainly flirted with accusations of brake checking. which would obviously be quite a serious allegation and it's the one specific thing he said which valentino didn't take kindly to - most of the other stuff valentino just brushed off. again, casey's not gone all the way here.,, and this one also isn't easily verifiable for the layperson. you can definitely see that in the lap where casey crashes, valentino is taking some.......... uh. creative lines, like one of the corners after the corkscrew he does LEAP across the track to a comical extent. it is reasonable to believe that valentino was deliberately mixing up how early or late he was braking to unsettle casey, and something like that might have helped cause the crash. casey at this point was frustrated enough that he was really hugging valentino's back tyre, maybe even in order to try something before the main straight this time. when he almost runs into the back of valentino, he does have to adjust his line and is too hasty in trying to make up the ground again on valentino... which leads to the very slow tip off where he runs his bike from the shallow gravel into the deeper stuff. his mistake, yes, but did valentino contribute to it? and did valentino cross any lines in doing so?

the one thing casey has said where I do kinda call bullshit is him writing in his autobiography that some of the sketchier stuff wasn't shown by the tv cameras. maybe he doesn't feel like they provided the ideal angles, but for the duration of that battle casey and valentino are on screen like. a decent 80-90% of the time. I made a note of every time they switched away from them, and it really isn't a lot - certainly not for any overtakes minus that extremely annoying thing in lap four where casey is clearly sizing up a move into turn 1 and they randomly show hayden's back camera. neither myself nor the commentators were particularly thrilled about that, but it's casey's move and almost certainly the only actual overtake the cameras missed. casey says "a couple off moves off camera added to my frustration" which... this does feel like a bit of a sleight of hand tbh, like buddy you're going to have to provide a little more detail there on what exactly you think the cameras avoided showing. it's not like the tv direction is attempting to stitch him up here - they were eating this shit up and wanted to show every last second of it

in general, this is something that's true of a lot of casey's criticisms about this race: he's talked about it a lot, talked about how much it changed for him, but he does have a tendency to dance around actually making specific complaints. if you're being generous, you can say that he'd get a lot of shit for doing so. but, well, it's not like he's exactly holding back when criticising valentino a lot of the time. if you think he brake checked you, then just say that!! in one of his more valentino-esque traits, casey does have a tendency to heavily hint at a substantive accusation without QUITE spelling it out. it's the same trick he pulls with the suggestion that valentino blocked him from yamaha... which he obviously implies very heavily in his autobiography, but doesn't ever actually say outright. and it's a pretty neat trick in that it does allow certain talking points to get assimilated into popular narratives without setting them up to be fact checked. which is fascinating in its own right and a necessary corrective to the general narrative of casey as a forthright straight shooter who hasn't put a lot of thought into how to sell himself, but it's also a bit annoying if you're actually trying to assess 'the truth' of what happened. please, casey, enough talk about how you learned of the darkness in men's souls on that day... a little more detail, I beg

now fwiw, I do actually think casey is perfectly justified in complaining about valentino's riding. the main reason for this is that valentino himself has merrily confessed he was willing to do anything to stop casey from winning that race - which means that casey's belief valentino was ready to crash them both out was 100% correct. you can quibble about the specific moves, but at the end of the day valentino did obviously go into this race with the aim of intimidating casey. he could have injured both of them in order to prove a point, and I think that is something you can entirely reasonably take issue with. 10/10 for execution, good job on not actually crashing (even though a bit of his bike actually broke during the corkscrew overtake so it was completely lap of the gods stuff) - but that doesn't necessarily make valentino's approach morally defensible. casey's problem, of course, is that you have to say that it did WORK. if ever there was a single race that won someone a title, it's probably this one

which obviously just sucks for casey!! it plays into so many of his issues so perfectly that OF COURSE it's not something he's going to easily get over. and this is something that I do want to discuss in more depth in the actual laguna post, since it's definitely more my wheelhouse than analysing motorcycle overtakes - but my god was the psychology of this race horrendous from casey's pov. and you're flirting with quite a thin line where... I don't want to dismiss casey's interpretation, I think it's a reasonable stance to take, but also what's most fascinating to me is the emotional side of things. where it's less about completely rational assessment of whether xyz move should be allowed, and more about what casey felt - which is obviously also the arena valentino was interested in, more than actually winning the race. that's the selling point of this race: usually, you deploy tactics based on your understanding of your opponent's psychology to win the race you're actually in. valentino's primary goal was to get into casey's head and make him suffer. this was a long-term investment, right... and assessing exactly what it did to casey emotionally, why it felt so awful to him and how valentino achieved the desired effect - that's the really juicy stuff to dig into

there's also something else worth addressing here... part of the issue is that your perception of the racing is going to depend on what version of the sport you're most familiar with watching. a lot of the actual hard racing from laguna 2008 probably won't register as particularly out of order because there's also been a bit of a shift in riding standards in the intervening years. in 2011-12 the three competitive aliens kind of got away with dialling the aggression way, way, way down - just as a group taking a very conservative approach to what constituted an acceptable pass. 2013 reverses that trend, first and foremost because of marc joining the premier class. since then, the amount of aggression has generally crept upwards. there'll be several different reasons for that - rivals having to adjust to marc's level of aggression, the speculation that moto2 as a category was producing crazier rookies (this was a big talking point in 2017 with zarco, who valentino memorably had his issues with), and also technical changes. in the current formula of the sport, it's just a lot harder to overtake - and a lot of the previously common styles of overtaking also just wouldn't really be feasible nowadays. so you've got a lot of block passes, divebombs, shove it up the inside from a mile back (because that's as close as you can generally get to your competitor) and hope for the best... overtaking with contact has been completely normalised - something like pecco's first (?) cut back on marc in jerez this year would have been controversial in a different era, but now basically everyone just went 'good job yeah'

how you feel about this shift is always going to be a matter of personal opinion, and I'm definitely not completely in the laissez-faire camp on this myself - but it does undeniably mean you need a bit of extra context for what was considered 'hard' racing back then. and yes, obviously valentino himself is to some extent directly responsible for this shift. it's not like he never complained about other riders back then, he's always had a stance of 'fine if you can pull it off but don't be an idiot', but he definitely became more uncomfortable with some of the riding by his competitors over the years. which is ALSO a reasonable stance! riding aggressively by the standards of your time doesn't mean you have to take a complete carte blanche approach to all hard racing for evermore. it's their lives at stake, at the end of the day, so I do always feel like people should afford riders an open mind when they're giving their opinions on aggressive riding. even when their opinions vary rather dramatically. one moment that always sticks out to me in illustrating this shift over time is casey overtaking dani in motegi 2008 and gesturing back to apologise for pushing him wide. and......... I cannot stress enough to you how harmless that move looks to my eyes. it does not even register as hard racing to me, let alone something that would warrant an apology. things really have changed

then again, obviously you do have to remember that casey's complaints weren't exactly popular back then either. yes, you can chalk some of that down to favouritism towards valentino - but I've gone through quite a lot of forum posts too, and even the neutrals/casey fans really did love this race and took issue with casey's complaints. the commentariat certainly did - including sources I personally don't view as biased towards valentino over casey. everyone was super excited to HAVE a battle like that again. proper racing had become so rare in the 800cc era that this felt like a real throwback to the golden age... casey was never going to get much of a sympathetic hearing from a fanbase who had gone from the glory of the 2006 season to the dire tedium of 2007. it is casey's misfortune that he not only had an approach to racing that is less appealing to the casual fan, but also just happened to emerge as a frontrunner in a season everyone already kinda hated for non-casey reasons. almost everyone felt like he overreacted after the race and had conducted himself poorly both with valentino and in the media. that's why he apologised for what he'd said a few weeks later when they reconvened in brno, saying it had been a heat of the moment reaction (an explanation valentino readily accepted) - but obviously this is not an opinion casey earnestly held. the psychology of that apology is obviously fascinating in its own right, like that must feel like shit to have to do,,, but it is another bit of important context that gets forgotten about sometimes. it's not that casey's complaints are illegitimate - it's just ALSO likely that his stance has been made more radical by how truly awful the whole experience was for him, in ways that aren't just related to the literal riding. and at a certain point, he kind of needed to make sense of all of this, come up for a narrative for this race to help keep himself sane. if the world thinks you lost a race because you were a weaker person, perhaps you need to tell yourself you lost because you were a better one

all of which will be discussed in a lot more depth at a later juncture! even in this post I've deliberately kind of buried the lede in terms of where I'm at when it comes to the psychology of this race. this IS a race I obviously just have.... so so many thoughts about, always - which is why responding to this was so quick and easy lol, no consulting my notes required for any of it. at some point all of this will be written up with actual sources provided and lap-by-lap analysis. it's such a fantastic little case study for how sports psychology works, like I could write research papers on this thing. love the race, love them both, don't particularly want to side with either of them in their interpretation of this race but enjoy both sides and think they're both Valid. we'll never see the like again

[florallylly]

sorry queen but a cheater is a cheater is a cheater and that's not a label i easily let go of

[vialae]

really feel like gortash and ascended astarion wouldn’t get along to comical amounts. like especially with how i write everything where durge accepts bhaal and succeeds in his plans w gortash.

gortash and kaidos planning every awful expansion of their empire out to the minute details. theyve been working at this for years, and finally they see the fruits of their labour and they so deserve these seats they’ve muscled their way into.

and then here comes ascended astarion waltzing into their halls as if he owns them. as if everyone should be kneeling and be so grateful they get to be in his presence. gortash isn’t at all intimidated by it; he’s seen every act and trick there is to play amongst aristocracy. sure a vampire ascendant is physically very strong, but where are his connections? the wealth he earned all on his own? a well established reputation? appearances are everything in the upper-city, after all.

and then to hear this vampire talk to his dearest assassin in that tone. talking down to his equal as if he was somehow better than him. gortash wouldn’t stop it in the moment because he doesn’t want to make kaidos seem like someone who can’t fight his own battles, but he does ask about it when they’re alone. why do you let him talk to you that way? he has no right to. gortash is also a very petty man, and so whenever astarion addresses him personally, he will use the same condescending tone in response. nobody is undermining gortash in his own halls.

for a vampire ascendant who has only had this rush of power for a matter of months to act this way in front of a man who has spent the last 40ish years dragging himself to the spot he is in now. nobody ever gifted gortash any power - there was no ritual he could ever override. no, he had to fight, scheme and crawl his way up. he deserves to be sat in these halls. gortash is only tolerating his presence because kaidos insists he can be useful. there is information a vampire can get a lot easier than a group of banite soldiers can. the looks gortash gives this ascendant vampire let him know that he is only staying his hand because his beloved wants him to.

[gibbearish]

the things with every mobile game advertisement being turbofucked is that that means its no longer really a reliable way to tell if a product is shit or not. like a lot of them are indeed the kind of ad spam nonsense we all expect, but also a lot of them are very clearly just. people who have a story to tell and also bills to pay being forced into playing the ad game. like there are some real diamonds in the rough that do really interesting things with the mechanics and have actually interesting story that you will only find out about via some wack as hell advert that tells you nothing about the product itself

[maskedbyghost]

lets continue our talk about situationship!Simon, where this bitch grovels for monthssss

_______________________________________________

situationship!simon starts sending you text messages. before you could expect something like "you up?" or "come to my office.", but after you broke things off with him, simon started sending you heartfelt text messages, apologizing for his past behavior. “i’ve been thinking a lot about what happened between us,” he texted one night. “i realize now how much i hurt you, and i’m truly sorry, love. i understand if you need space, but i wanted you to know how much i regret everything.”

along with his messages, simon started sending you small but meaningful gifts. he remembered how you’d joked about his tea obsession once and that you’d mentioned you only liked chamomile. to your surprise, he found the best brand of chamomile tea and even packed it in a nice box before delivering it to your room.

he even started to open up more. during a late-night phone call, where you could clearly hear that he was drunk, simon said that he started seeing a therapist. “i’m workin on understandin my issues and changin for the better. i want to be better, not just for you love, but for myself. i hope you can see that i’m tryin to change.”

when you asked him to stop calling you love, he refused. “i can’t help it. you’re mine in a way no one else could be, and i don’t want to pretend otherwise.”

as simon keeps showing up with gifts and heartfelt messages, you can’t help but wonder if he’s being real or if he’s just trying to win you back before breaking your heart again.

you still go on dates with other people, and simon is tormented every time he sees you leaving the base in those pretty dresses—dresses he wishes were just for him. he follows you, quietly lurking in the corners of the restaurants or bars where you’re out with your dates. oddly enough, most of the guys you go out with either get transferred to another base or stop calling you after just one date, and you’re doing your best not to blame simon for it. but you know it's him. and he is not sorry at all.

almost every day, simon texts you, asking you out on dates and planning special things for the who of you. all you have to do is say yes, but each time, you refuse. it breaks his heart every time, but it also makes him more determined to try even harder. he knows he deserves this treatment from you.

back when you and simon used to train together on base, it was a special routine you both enjoyed. now, you’ve started asking other guys to help you with exercises, and it drives him wild with jealousy. watching their hands on you makes him see red. after your training sessions with them, simon invites these guys to spar with him. it quickly becomes clear that he’s using these sparring matches as a chance to take out his frustration and anger, landing a few extra hits just to make his point.

despite everything, you still won’t budge, and it’s only making simon more frustrated. the truth is, it’s becoming harder and harder for you to resist him. his persistence is wearing you down, and the more he pushes, the more you find yourself struggling to stay strong.

simon invites you to one of his therapy sessions, saying his therapist thinks it would be helpful for him and his progress. during the session, he opens up about his struggles and insecurities, laying everything bare. as he talks, you start to feel sympathy for him. it’s clear he’s determined to change and work on himself, and you see how genuine his efforts are.

one night, you were preparing tea in the kitchen when a girl you know from the base asked for simon’s number. she mentioned she was interested in him, which made you jealous. you snapped at her, making it clear that he would never be interested in a girl like her. simon overheard the whole thing and couldn’t help but smirk to himself. it was clear you still had feelings for him, and he took a bit of satisfaction in that.

later that night he sent one simple message to you: "that's my girl. i belong to you, and you only."

after that message, simon stepped up his game. he started sending you lots of sweet texts and little gifts, and even took care of some of your paperwork. it was hard to ignore how much he was trying, and you found it tougher to resist him as he kept showing you how much he cared.

a few months after managing to ignore simon as best as you could, you caught a nasty cold and were stuck in your room. you only texted price to let him know you needed a few days off because you were sick, and got back in your bed trying to sleep that cold off. a few hours later, as you were still trying to fall asleep, you heard your door open. simon walked in, carrying a bunch of bags, a worried look on his face.

“i came as soon as I could,” simon said, worry in his voice. “i brought you soup and medicine.”

simon didn’t leave your side for days. he only went back to his room to grab more clothes and shower. he was insistent on helping you with everything, even assisting you with your showers in the most respectful way possible of course. he’d sit in a chair next to your bed, and you felt a pang of guilt seeing how much he was giving up for you. you even tried to convince him to go get some rest, but despite your protests, he somehow ended up in your bed, gently spooning you as you slept.

simon would whisper sweet things in your hair, thinking you were asleep. you heard every word as he softly talked about how much he missed you, how sorry he was for everything, and how he wanted to make things right. even though you were sick and exhausted, his words touched you deeply.

once you were feeling better, you found simon sitting alone in a common room, lost in thought. you approached him quietly and gently kissed the side of his face. with a soft smile, you whispered, “take me on that date you promised.”

_______________________________________________

@daydreamerwoah

[taeghi]

let's collab | (m)

⇰ summary : you've always vied for the top spot on onlyfans but "hluvsbabes" makes it tough with his undeniable charm and looks. when you unexpectedly meet him you realize he's even more captivating up close. despite the competition, you find yourself unable to turn down his one request.

⇰ pairing : camboy!heeseung x camgirl!y/n

⇰ genre : smut!! masturbation, vibrators lol, dirty talk, oral, throat fucking, unprotected sex, degrading, praise, sir kink, spanking, brief spitting and hair pulling lol.

⇰ word count : 10k (8k of it is just pure, filthy smut) !!!

⇰ taglist : @criminalyun @princeseung @seokseokjinkim @loveydoveyhee @immelissaaa @iselltulips @strxwbloody @ensaz008 @loavibeycipoosan @liwugy @starfallia @you-make-skz-stay @ineedsomezzz @heeshlove @niniissus @mirramirra @skzenhalove @fandom-freak-geek @lilifiedeans @woahhhhaw @cchangli @enhabooks @heelovesmeknot @fakeuwus @soobinsnovia101 @river-demon-slayer @jjklvr9 @hanjisunginc @iamliacamila @jaylaxies

mdni

you started ‘darlingdove01’ when you needed some extra cash in your second year of college. at first you didn’t show your face at all and you were nervous that someone you knew was going to find out. godforbid your parents found out about your sex work. 

over time, you started to get more comfortable in front of the camera and started to show your face. though you never said your real name. you had started to get a close following and were at the top of the creators of the week every week. the way it worked was that the longer you were number one, the more increase of pay you got. though, you had never been number 1 for more than one week at a time. 

all thanks to hluvsbabes. 

it seemed that every week you and hluvsbabes would alternate who was number one. no matter what new things you tried to increase your audience and views, the next week you were back at number two. 

the day that you were fed up with always being put back to second was the day that you would very soon regret. 

you were lazily scrolling through the app when you noticed hluvsbabes had just started streaming, so, you clicked onto the livestream. 

and there he was. hluvsbabes shirtless with his hard cock pulled out of his pants and sitting in between his fist. his pale skin gleamed against his computer screen light, showing off his abs. he had a black mask covering the lower part of his face. his bangs fell into his squinted eyes as he casually pumped his cock up and down in his fist. 

you couldn’t stop your jaw from going slack as you took in the sight before you. you could tell his mouth was in a playful smirk as he watched the comments fly. suddenly a tip of 20$ flew in the corner of the screen : “take ur pants off pls”. 

you could hear his dark chuckle through your speakers, “mmm, only because you said please.” 

you watched him do as the viewer asks. he dug his thumbs into his pants and boxers and pulled them down to reveal his pale legs that matched the rest of his body. 

he seemed so confident and casual as he sat in his chair fully nude, as if 8,000 people weren’t watching him right now. 

“is that better for you?” his voice asked with a tone of amusement. you watched him laugh as all the comments immediately filled with variations of “yes”. “what else do you want me to do? tell me.” the comments were instantly filled with nasty things that you have to admit you also wanted him to do. 

you had figured hluvsbabes was hot since he was always top one or two, but you didn’t think he would look like this. and that his voice would be so seductive. 

“i won’t be taking off my mask, guys.” hluvsbabes shakes his head with a chuckle, he’s just so amused with his fans. along with his fans you also wished he took off his mask. you would love to see the mouth that formed such seductive words. 

suddenly, a tip came up in the corner of the screen of 100$, “start jerking ur cock, baby”. your jaw dropped at the amount of the tip. you had only ever received 100$ worth a few times in the past two years. hluvsbabes didn’t even seem that shocked by the amount as he did as he was told. 

his hand started to move faster up and down his hard cock. the tip of his cock looked so red and swollen in the light of his computer screen. 

“will you spit on it for me, baby?” hluvsbabes whines out and you instantly shut your legs together. 

the comments are gradually picking up pace, commenting demands and praises, asking questions for him to answer. you can hear his deep grunts through your speakers as he keeps his bang covered eyes on the comments. 

a 15$ tip pops up in the corner again; “tell me i’m ur good girl pls”. 

hluvsbabes amusingly shakes his head, “of course you're my good girl. do you have your fingers in your panties? how wet are you? tell me how wet you are, good girl.” 

you’re in shock from his words, the comments, the amount of tips and from how hot hluvsbabes is. 

his deep laugh distracts you from your thoughts. he throws his head back on the chair’s headrest, making his bangs reveal his forehead. even with his mask on, you can tell that his mouth is open agape from the pleasure he’s feeling. 

“fuck, guys. i’ve been thinking about this– about you all day. my dick has been hard since my morning class.” 

the thought of him having to walk around with a hard cock all day because he thought of getting off in front of thousands of people only turns you on more. he continues to move his hand up and down his cock, his grunts getting louder and louder. 

“i-i’m getting close. i wish you were here to taste my cum, shit.” 

it was getting to the point where you couldn’t ignore the tingly feeling starting to increasingly grow in the pit of your stomach. you felt entranced by him, not being able to take your eyes off of your screen. you had only planned to watch a couple of minutes just to see what the hype was about, but now you’ve been watching him for close to twenty minutes. you lean onto your desk uncaringly over your keyboard and your heart stops when you see : 

darlingdove01 : ghj

your eyes widen at your username in the comment section, praying to god none of his 15k viewers notices. 

“oh, darlingdove is in here,” hluvsbabes’s voice speaks suddenly, making you jolt away from your computer screen and grab the handles of your chair. he tilts his head and looks directly into the camera as he continues, “how are you, darling? do you like the show? do you like watching me get off?” 

you are in shock and you can’t think of what to do. you never thought you would be in a situation like this. you notice all the comments start filling up with your name as hluvsbabes is still stroking his cock and groaning. 

“maybe she’s too busy with her hands to type right now.” hluvsbabes jokes in a grunted laugh. you cover your mouth with your hands in shock. and you read one comment that says “who can blame her?”. 

and with that, you immediately leave the one and only hluvsbabes livestream you have ever watched, the embarrassment being almost too much.

a few days and a lot of thoughts of hluvsbabes later, you know you have to get back to livestreaming. you had planned a few things for your next live stream despite being busy with college and being distracted by the memories of hluvsbabes. 

the way ‘darling’ slipped from his mouth so casually and sensual. 

usually, people only referred to you as ‘dove’. you didn’t anticipate for darling to be so efficacious. but maybe it was only because hluvsbabes had said it. the way it sounded in his smooth, mischievous tone. it kept you up at night. 

tonight, you had to live stream on your account. 

you started at your usual time; 10pm, in your usual setting; your bedroom. your nightside lamp was lit behind you, being your only source of light besides your computer screen. your body was covered by an oversized hoodie which covered your panties and the top of your bare thighs. 

“hi everyone,” you spoke into your microphone, looking at the rising amount of viewers on your live stream. the comments started piling in, regular questions about yourself mixed with sexual ones that made you laugh to yourself. “my week was good, thank you. how has your week been, guys?” 

you read some of the comments, recognizing some of the usernames that comment. and when you notice a steady amount of viewers and when the comments start teasing you and begging you to start, you begin. 

“tonight,” you start, and sit back in your computer chair, “i think i’ll have some fun with my new toy.” you reach out of the camera’s view and grab the toy you had bought earlier in the week. it was a long, white vibrator. you take your time to show the camera the entire toy, smiling proud of it. “what should we name him?” you giggle out, reading the comments as they flood with names and praises and begging. 

you sit back in your chair, “he has three settings, should i start with the lowest? see how wet he can get me?” you ask, your voice teasing. tips start to come in, telling you to turn it on, telling you that they want to see you cum. 

with a flick of your thumb you turn it onto the lowest setting. a low buzzing sound fills your bedroom, entering the mic for your audience to hear. you lift your feet so they rest on the chair, your knees up in the air. your hoodie bunches at your waist for your panties and bare legs to be revealed. you press the vibrator against your clit over top of your panties, testing it. 

“oh god,” you moan, “even the lowest setting is good.” you inform your audience, keeping your eyes on the camera and comments. you giggle when you read a tip that tells you to move it in circles. “want me to move it? want to watch me pleasure myself?” the comments flood with yes’s. 

you start to move the vibrator in slow, small circles around your clit. wanting to tease yourself and the audience for as long as possible. you would be lying if you said it didn’t feel good. the feeling of the vibrator against your pulsing clit and the eyes of hundreds of people watching you in real time. 

a tip catches your eye; 

heesacc tipped 50$! : that looks like it feels good, darling. why don’t you move up a setting.

your eyes linger on the word darling and the large tip they gave you. 

“okay, let’s put it up to the medium setting.” you agree, your finger flicking the button up. the buzzing becomes louder as the toy starts moving faster. your hand still moves the vibrator in slow, small circles over your panties. “fuck, this is even better, baby.” 

you read comments that compliment you, that tell you they wanna see you cum right now, that you should remove your clothes. 

“want me to take my clothes off?” you tease the camera, your free hand playing with hem of your oversized sweater. “tell me what you want me to take off.” the comments tell you that they want you naked, that your sweater should come off, that everything should come off. 

heesacc tipped 50$! : take your sweater off and play with your tits, darling. rub your nipples and pretend it’s me.

“wanna see my tits? wanna see me play with them just for you?” you bite your lip at the tip, but do as they said, putting down the vibrator for a second as you pull the sweater off your core. your breasts being revealed to the audience. you look at yourself in the mirror, noticing the large wet stain on your panties from your juices and the vibrator. “oh my god, look wet i am.” you wiggle so your panties can be seen better on camera. the large wet stain evident in the computer screen’s light. “this is how good you make me feel.” 

you read the comments that say they wish they were there beside you, that they want to rip your panties off. 

you pick up the vibrator again, still on the medium setting. your one hand holds the vibrator steady against your covered clit, as your free hand comes up and starts to tweak your nipples. your forefinger and thumb hook your nipple, rolling it. you let out moans at the feeling, your back arching off your chair naturally. 

“fuck, i love playing with my nipples, it turns me on so much.” you state honestly, switching between nipples with your fingers. 

heesacc tipped 70$! : let’s see how swollen your pretty pussy is, darling. 

you gulped as you read the tip come through. just reading the words sent a shiver straight to your core. you swore your pussy got so much wetter as you finished reading it. 

you set the vibrator down again, “you wanna see my pussy, baby? wanna see how wet and swollen you got it?” you tease the camera, your hand dragging across your panties. with the multiple “yes”’s commenting, you start to slowly slide your panties off your legs, showing the camera the larger wet stain on them. 

you lean back in your chair again, the same position with your feet on the chair and knees up, but this time your pussy was visible to the camera. your hand glides down between your legs. you keep your eyes on the camera as your fingers slide through your lips so easily. you whine when your fingers rub over your sensitive clit. “i’m so wet, fuck. you could slip right in. stretch out my tight pussy. god, i need that so bad. need to be stretched out.” 

you reach for the vibrator again, “let’s see how long i can last on the high setting. i’m so close already.” you giggle out to your audience. 

you turn the vibrator to the highest setting, the toy buzzing in your hand as you bring it to your bare pussy. instantly you throw your head back, crying out at the pleasure. your other hand massaging your breast. 

heesacc tipped 100$! : cum like a good girl, darling. 

“oh god!” your eyebrows pull together from the pleasure. your knees start to buckle as the pleasure starts to take over you. “i’m gonna cum! fuck, i’m cumming.” you nod your head and try to keep your eyes on the camera as you hit your high. your bare chest heaves as your orgasm washes through your body, struggling to keep the vibrator on your clit from oversensitivity. 

when your head clears and your body relaxes, you manage to say goodbye to your audience, that you’ll see them again next time. you end the livestream, your eyes reading the tips, resting on the username ‘heesacc’. you had never seen them before, but they tip generously throughout the entire livestream. 

and they kept calling you darling.

you always had to get coffee before class. but your usual coffee shop had a line out the door today, so you had to go to one on campus that you’ve never been to before. though you knew you’d probably be late to class now, you knew you wouldn’t be able to sit through the two hour lecture without your daily coffee. 

you’re distracted by the menu of unfamiliar drinks that you don’t hear the barista question if you’re ready to order until the third time he says it. 

“oh sorry,” you tell him, shaking your head to wake up, “uh, could i get the blonde vanilla latte, please?” you tell the barista. you start to dig through your backpack for some money. 

“darlingdove01?” his voice questions, recognition definite in his voice. 

your head snaps up to look at the barista properly for the first time. your username making your ears and cheeks paint red. “uhh, yeah!” you’ve only been recognized in public a few times, and they’ve usually been at parties or get together, never in a public public place before. 

the barista has dark brown hair that’s covering his forehead. his eyes are big, doe-like and expressive. his features are sharp and delicate at the same time. his complexion is so smooth in the harsh coffee shop lights. “oh, cool.” his voice is smooth as he shrugs, almost impressed. “that’ll be 5.49$, please.” 

so shocked, you scramble to pile some change on the counter, dropping it for him to pick it up. you smile with a faint nod before you walk away for the next person behind you to order. 

you take deep breaths as you wait for your order, telling yourself that it’s okay, that that could’ve gone a lot worse. you weren’t used to people looking at you in public, that’s why you chose to stay behind a screen. 

“blonde vanilla latte!” the barista calls out a few minutes later. you go up and take the cup from him. “have a good day.” he’s polite, and his eyes tell you something that you don’t quite pick up. 

you turn away from the counter, ready to get the hell out of his coffee shop. you glance down at your drink, noticing words written in black on the side. 

let’s collab, hluvsbabes

with his number written underneath.  you turn your head to look back at the barista, but find a woman working the cashier instead. the brown haired boy disappeared from sight. you think back from the one and only hluvsbabes stream you had seen of his. he had kept his bangs over his eyes, hiding how doe-eyed they really were. his mask covered the entirety of his lower face. there was no way to know if the barista was really the hluvsbabes, but his eyes seemed to tell you that he was. that he knew who you were, too.

your fingers hover over your phone’s keyboard. the apparent hluvsbabes’s phone number typed in above, but the message box left empty. you decide to bite the bullet, even if it wasn’t him, all you had to do was block him after and then act like this never, ever happened. 

youhi, uh hluvsbabes? 

only a few minutes pass before you get a response. 

(123) - ***-**** hahaha yeah but you can call me heeseung

(123) - ***-****

hi, darlingdove01!

you

how’d you know it’s me? my name’s y/n btw

heeseung

bc you’re the only one i’ve given my number out to lately

heeseung

and bc i knew you’d text me sooner rather than later ;)

you smile, rolling over onto your back, your phone in the air as you text hluvs- heeseung back. 

you

damn, i knew i should’ve waited a month

heeseung

noooo i’m glad you texted me

heeseung 

i wanted you to text me 

you

righttt, you said something about a collab? 

heeseung

yeahh, i think you should come over sometime soon 

you could hear your heart strumming against your chest at his text. the hluvsbabes wanted to collab with you. you had only been competing against each other on onlyfans for months. and neither of you had done a collab before, solely solo stuff. you wondered if it’d be a good idea or not. 

heeseung

c’mon, you know i can make you feel good ;)

you were leaning towards it being a good one.

later in the week you found yourself outside of hluvsbabes apparent apartment. he had only lived a quick bus ride away from you, both of you living close to your university campus. you were biting your fresh manicure the whole bus ride there. 

heeseung had texted you to make sure you knew he wasn’t expecting anything from you. that he just wanted to get to know you, and hey, if a collab happened then it happened! 

though he was very polite and tried his best to reassure you and make you comfortable, you were still nervous to go to a guy’s house that you had seen masturbate before. you had heard what he sounds like when he masturbates. you had thought about his voice and his moans so many times since the “incident”. you were going to a boy’s house that you had cursed at so many times when you saw that he had passed you yet again in subscribers every few weeks. 

you knock on the apartment number’s door that he had given you. you waited a few quick heartbeats until the door opened. 

there stood the barista you had seen a few days ago. his doe-eyes the same and his long bangs covering his forehead. 

“y/n?” he spoke, a smile on his lips that made him seem even prettier than you remembered. 

you tried to picture what hluvsbabes would look like so many times, and now that you finally got a chance to see him, standing in front of you, letting you in his apartment, you were in shock. 

he was so much hotter than you could have ever imagined– now that you weren’t embarrassed in public when someone said your username outloud. 

“wanna come in or stand in the hall all day?” he spoke again, his eyebrow propped up. 

“oh!” you jolted, “sorry, sorry– i’ll come in.” you tell him, smiling at him as he held the door for you and closed once you were in. 

a quick glance around the apartment and you noticed how clean and home-y it looked. a regular couch, coffee table and tv took up one side of the apartment. and on the other side was a small island in the small kitchen. there was a hall on the far side of the room from you– which you figured led to his bedroom. (the room where he masturbates online for money– oh god!) 

“you can sit down on the couch if you want,” heeseung gestures to the couch, wiping his sweaty palms on his gray sweatpants, “do you want a drink or anything?” 

“uh no, i’m good thanks,” you reply, sitting down on the couch, your hands clasping together in your lap. 

as he sits down beside you on the couch, you think about how after you had texted him the other day you had seen he was live on onlyfans– and how you made sure to not press it. the thought of him seeing you watching his livestream again made you physically cringe. 

“so uh,” heeseung starts, a casual smile on his face as he looks at you, “have you thought? about my offer? about the collab?” 

you nod, “i have,” 

“right, well, we don’t have to do it if you don’t want– like i said. we can just hang out– i just saw you and i needed to give you my number i couldn’t just–,” 

“i wanna do it.” 

heeseung’s eyes widen at your answer, “really? only if you’re comfortable.” 

you nod, “yeah, i want to.” 

heeseung’s body relaxes at your words, “okay, when?” 

“right now?” you shrug at him, “i mean you usually stream soon anyways, right?” 

heeseung thought his mind was gonna explode. the hot girl that he’s competed with for top creator was sitting in front of him on his couch, telling him that she wants to collab with him. she could collab with anyone, but she wanted to collab with him. he couldn’t believe what was happening. 

“o-kay,” heeseung stutters and clears his throat, “uh, is there anything you're specifically into– or not into? i mean i’ve seen your streams so i know some things but i-,” 

“you’ve seen my streams?” you ask him confused and intrigued. 

heeseung fights the urge to slap himself, “i mean, yeah. you’re always top creator right?” 

“right, i just didn’t think that you’d watch them, i don’t know.” 

“why wouldn’t i watch them? you’re hot and you know how to engage with the audience.” heeseung admits honestly. 

you squirm at his compliment. “you’re hot, too.” 

heeseung seemingly relaxes completely at this, finally being able to comprehend what’s happening and what you’re thinking. “thank you, i mean i know you’ve seen my streams before, you commented once.” 

you cover your face with your hands, “oh god.” you groan out. 

heeseung laughs at you, “what? is it bad that you’ve watched me masturbate?” 

“no!” you shake your head quickly, eyes wide, “it’s just– i didn’t mean to comment that time– i didn’t even mean to press it! it’s just, just…” 

“i’m just that hot?” heeseung teases you, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“oh my god, shut up!” you laugh, shoving his shoulder. it’s then that you realize how close you’ve gotten on his couch. 

heeseung laughs harder, his face turning serious again when he speaks, “okay but seriously, anything you are or aren’t into?” 

you settle into your spot on the couch and think, “uh, i think i’m okay with anything.” you shrug, “but no anal though. and i’m more into, it being rough.” 

heeseung smirks and asks, “okay no anal. how about choking?” you nod in response, “slapping?” another nod from you, “how about degrading?” you blush and nod. 

“i’m okay with everything but anal, heeseung.” 

“okay, and if you wanna stop, should we come up with a safe word?” 

you ponder for a second and think, “how about, latte?”

heeseung smirks at you, “latte it is, then.” 

both of you stare at each other, lust and playfulness filling your expressions. somehow, your faces are only mere inches apart now as both of you take in the other’s features. you had only seen each other through a computer screen before. had only read each other's usernames on the top creators list– without even knowing your real names. and now you were about to give each other everything– including your first collab. 

your breath quiets as you look into heeseung’s eyes, scanning the brown in them before glancing down at his pretty lips. your lips are just centimeters away from his when he speaks again, “let’s start.” 

heeseung grabs your hand and pulls you up, guiding you down the hall and into his bedroom. he leans over his computer, setting up his account and livestream. you take the time to look around his room. 

his room is definitely the same one you’ve seen on live steam. the multiple monitors on his computer desk. a basic bed with a black and white comforter. and you recognized the few posters on his walls that he allowed to be seen in his lives. 

“okay, it’s ready.” heeseung tells you, “are you sure you wanna do this? we can stop whene–”

“i’m sure, heeseung.” 

“okay, i’ll press start live then,” 

“wait!” you reach for his shoulder, “what about your mask?” you know he’s never gone live without his mask– it’s the one thing that helps keep his identity unknown.

heeseung simply shrugs at you, “i mean, i can’t really eat you out with a mask on, can i?” 

your mouth drops open, but before you can say anything, the camera light flicks on, signaling that you’re live. the camera is pointed towards heeseung’s bed behind you as heeseung ushers you to sit on his usual gaming chair, he stands beside it. 

“hi guys,” heeseung says cooly to the camera. he lowly chuckles to himself as the comments start pouring in. there seems to be hundreds of comments in a second about “darlingdove01” and heeseung’s face. a lot of the comments are talking about how hot heeseung is and that they “always knew he’d be hot!”.  

“today we have a very special guest, darlingdove01 is here,” heeseung gestures to you. you wave at the camera, watching the viewer numbers grow higher and higher as the introduction continues. “and she told me that she likes anything… but anal.” 

“hey!” you shove him playfully with your shoulder. 

he only chuckles before continuing, resting his arm over the back of his gaming chair behind your head, “so today, i’m gonna do anything to please her.” he takes his other hand and cups your chin so you’re forced to look at him, “does that sound alright, darling?”

“yes,” you tell him, watching his warm brown eyes turn darker as you make eye contact. you can tell he’s no longer heeseung, but instead he’s “hluvsbabes”. 

“yes what?” 

“yes, sir.” 

“good girl,” heeseung leans down and presses his lips onto yours. you don’t have time to register that you are kissing the hluvsbabes. his lips are soft against yours, but their movements are deep and rough. just from the kiss you can tell what direction this live stream is going in. he pulls away too soon for your liking, “pull up your shirt.” 

your hands reach for the bottom hem of your shirt and lift them so your bare breasts are visible to heeseung and the audience. 

“fuck,” heeseung groans, his hands cupping both of them. both of you mentally note how perfectly they fit in his warm hands. he turns to the camera, “doesn’t she have the most beautiful tits?” 

heeseung starts to tweak both your nipples in between his thumbs and forefingers. your hand flies to grip the handle of the chair, your back arches into his touch. 

“that feel good?” he asks you with a smirk, obviously amused by your reaction. 

“yes, sir. they’re sensitive,” you admit. 

“are they?” heeseung tilts his head, “keep playing with them, then.” 

your hands replace heeseung’s. your hands are definitely not as big and as warm as heeseung’s. but you massage your breasts, your fingers playing with your nipples like he told you to. 

meanwhile, heeseung starts to kiss down your revealed torso, his hands unzipping and pulling down your shorts so fast. you watch him get down on his knees in between your legs, his hot breath against your panties. heeseung groans once he’s eye level with your core and can see the faint wet strip on them. he could always see how wet you were on livestream, but now he gets to see in person. 

“i wanna make you feel good,” heeseung says against your skin, pressing kisses on your inner thighs, your legs spread wide for the camera to see. “are you gonna do whatever i say?” 

“yes, sir.” you nod down at him, watching his tongue lick his lips so close to your pussy. ‘i wanna be your slut.” 

heeseung chuckles against your skin, his fingers slip inside your panties as he speaks, “let me feel my slut’s pussy then.” 

you take a deep breath as his fingers start to massage your clit, exploring your pussy for the first time. he’s thought about his fingers touching you so many times before. he could hardly believe that you were actually in front of him right now. 

“you want me to taste your pussy, darling?” 

“please,” your voice sounds so breathy when you speak again, his fingers pressing hard. 

“ask me to.” 

“please taste my pussy, sir.” 

with that heeseung slides his middle finger into your core. it feels so long as it reaches right to your g spot immediately, as if he knew it’d be there. your jaw drops open as he pushes his finger in and out. a whine leaving your mouth as you start to move your hips to meet his finger. his palm is massaging your clit as he moves his fingers in and out of your core. 

heeseung then pulls his finger out of you, “take off your panties, show everyone your pussy.” heeseung leans more to the side as you do what he says. your panties drop to the floor and your legs are on either side of his gaming chair. “fuck, doesn’t she have the most perfect pussy, everyone?” heeseung is staring at the camera as he massages your thighs. 

heeseung’s lips meet your core before you can comprehend. he’s making out with your clit, the sloppy sounds fill your ears and the audience’s as he sucks your clit into his mouth. he reaches his finger up to slide into your core again, so easily. 

“my finger barely fits in there,” heeseung smirks. 

his mouth continues to lick and suck on every part of your pussy. his tongue circles your clit in his mouth. your hand is gripping the chair arm as you watch him, unable to contain your moans. 

“fuck yes, sir.” you cry out, throwing your head back from pleasure. you don’t think anyone has been able to make you feel this good with their mouth before. your ex’s could never make you cum at all. 

heeseung is moaning against your core, letting you and the audience know that he is also enjoying this, “god this pussy tastes so good, tastes better than i’d ever imagined before.” your stomach tightens at his words, feeling high on the pleasure heeseung’s mouth and fingers is giving you so easily and the audience watching you both. “keep playing with those tits, darling.” 

your hands fly up to your sensitive nipples, almost forgotten by how pretty heeseung looks while he makes out with your pussy. your body’s whole senses are heightened. heeseung can start to feel you clench around his fingers as your hips start to buck up to his mouth, wanting more of him. 

“fuck that feels so good.” you whine out, your eyebrows furrowing together at the pleasure. 

“are you gonna cum?” heeseung asks lowly. he watches you nod at him, unable to form words. 

then, heeseung rips away from you. his mouth and finger gone and before you can realize, he’s standing again beside you. his hand wrapped around your neck gently– forcing you to look at him with your legs spread. 

“you have to ask for permission if you want to cum,” heeseung’s voice is stern as he looks you in the eyes, “understand?” 

“yes, sir.”��

heeseung’s smile returns as his hand leaves your neck, “here, taste yourself.” your mouth opens for heeseung to slide his finger inside your mouth. your lips close around his finger, sucking it into your mouth as your tongue swirls around it, wanting to taste yourself. “good girl.” heeseung removes his finger, and instead presses a kiss to your lips, softly, passionately, as if to check in on you. but you’re so hungry for an orgasm that you really would do anything right now. “are you ready to make me feel good?” 

“yes, sir.” 

“get on your knees.” 

you sit up, closing your legs for the first time and feeling how wet your inner thighs were. heeseung pushes his chair to the side as he stands, looking down at you as you kneel before him. “you wanna suck my cock?” heeseung questions you, noticing how you tighten your thighs at his question. his hand slides down on your chin for you to look up at him. you nod in response to him. “ask me.” 

“can i suck your cock, sir?” 

“good girl, take it out.” 

your hands work to unbutton his pants, pulling them down to his upper thigh to release his cock. you just have to stop and marvel at it. there in front of you is hluvsbabes huge cock that you had thought about stretching you out for weeks. it’s much bigger in person you think. it’s hard, and the tip is so pink as some veins swirl down it. 

“open your mouth.” heeseung starts to glide his dick into your mouth. your hand coming up to grip the base of it as your lips close around the tip. “god, keep those eyes on me.” heeseung groans out as you start to such his cock. heeseung keeps his hand on your head, hsi fingers meshing with your hair. 

you do keep your eyes on him with as much of his cock as you can manage in your mouth. your hand jerks what you can’t fit as you moan against his dick. 

“god you’re so big sir,” 

“yeah? think it’ll fit inside your pussy? think it’ll stretch you out so good?” heeseung retorts, watching your mouth work on his cock. he’d be lying if he said you weren’t making him close to his orgasm already, your innocent eyes looking at him as your mouth sucks his soul out. 

“yes, sir, please– want your cock so bad.” you speak before going back to sucking his cock. your tongue circles the hot, pink tip of it before tracing the delicious veins. your hand moves in rhythm with your mouth. 

“are you gonna be a good girl and let me fuck your mouth?” 

you nod at him with his cock still fully in your mouth. heeseung moves both of his hands to grip your head as your own hand drops to your thighs, so tempted to play with your clit, but you know sir wouldn’t approve. 

heeseung starts to slowly move his hips so his cock moves in and out of your mouth. he stops when the tip is at your throat– feeling your throat tighten against the tip. he almost pulls out fully everytime, just so that the tip is at your swollen lips before he pushes back in again. 

“oh, my fucking god,” heeseung moans out, looking at the camera monitor to see him fucking your pretty mouth. your mouth feels too good for him to even notice that the viewer count is at 16,000. “play with my balls like a good girl.” 

heeseung continues to fuck your mouth as your hand reaches fro his balls. they are heavy in your palm as you start to massage them gently. tugging on them and moving them around easily with your salvia that has dripped down. 

heeseung pulls his dick fully out of your mouth, letting you breathe for a moment. you could feel your pussy drip down onto his carpet– you hoped it wouldn’t stain. 

“open your mouth,” heeseung tells you. your jaw drops open, revealing your used tongue and mouth. heeseung leans over you and let’s a drop of his spit lands right onto your tongue before he starts to hit his dick against your tongue. he mixes your spit with his on his cock and both of you groan out at that the thought of it. 

heeseung goes back to fucking your mouth. his grip on your head tight as he’s picked up the pace of his hips. his cock sliding so quickly in and out of your mouth. the sounds of your saliva and gurgling against his cock fill the room and microphone. 

“that’s it, like that, like that like a good girl,” heeseung groans out his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he feels his own pleasure boiling. probably boiling too much if he wants this to last any longer. 

heeseung pulls away from you and pulls you with him for you to sit on the floor while he moves back to sit on the edge of his bed, his feet on the ground for you to sit in between them. your chest is heaving from excitement and lack of air. you watch as heeseung pulls down his pants fully and throws them on the floor beside his bed. 

heeseung’s hand wraps around your neck as he looks down at you, “you ready to get fucked, darling?” 

“yes, please.”

“ask me to fuck you.” 

“can you please fuck me, sir.” 

“get up on the bed and turn around.” 

heeseung’s voice is demanding as you scramble to stand up, your knees tired from kneeling for so long. you get up on his bed for the first time. you turn around so your ass is towards him in the air, your face pressed into his bed. 

heeseung pushes your chest further into his bed by placing his hand on your back, “stay like this like a good girl, okay?” 

“yes, sir.” 

“i’m gonna fuck this little pussy just like the slut you are.” heeseung grunts, spreading your ass cheeks more for him to slide his cock right inside of you.

the stretch of his cock is just what you imagined it would be. it’s almost blissful once he’s fully inside. you can feel the tip of his cock basically reaching your cervix. once he’s bottomed out completely, both of you groan out into his bedroom, pleasure taking over both of you. 

“there we go, darling,” heeseung grunts through his teeth as he starts to slide back out of you. both of you feel each and every vein of his cock sliding against your oh, so wet walls. “let sir fuck you like a slut.”

heeseung’s one hand grips your waist as the other one stays on your back. his hips quickly pick up pace, his cock easily going in and out of you due to his saliva and your juices mixing together. your hands grip the blanket on his bed, crying out into the bed as you finally get what you want. 

“oh my god it’s so big!” you whine out, your eyes trying to focus on the camera. 

“yeah? it’s so big and full just for you, it’s all just for you.” heeseung grunts out, his bangs covering his forehead like usual, his eyes entranced only on you. he watches as your entire body jerks forward everytime he slams his cock into you. his hands run down and grab your ass, wanting to finally feel it after he’s seen it so many times on your livestreams. 

heeseung slaps your ass, making you cry out a curse. the pain of it turning you on even more. you can feel the wetness dripping down your thighs as heeseung fucks you even rougher. heeseung’s balls are soaked from your juices. 

“reach down and rub your clit for me.” heeseung demands you, trying to keep his voice steady when he speaks.

you manage to sneak your arm under your body to start rubbing circles on your clit with your index and middle fingers. you instantly cry out. with your fingers on your clit and heeseung managing to hit your g spot with every single thrust the pleasure starts to boil up more and more in your tummy. 

“oh shit!” 

“you better not cum unless i tell you to,” heeseung smacks your ass again, harder, a warning. “you hear me?” 

“fu-fuck yes, sir.” 

heeseung suddenly grabs you up from the bed from under your arms, mumbling a “come here” before he turns you to face the camera. both of you standing now with his cock still lunged inside of you. 

“let everyone see this fucking slut’s body.” heeseung grunts out, staring directly at the camera as he continues to thrust up into you from the back. he reaches over your front, rubbing your clit for you now. your head is thrown back onto his shoulder, trying to keep standing upwards. “you like everyone seeing me use you like this? like using you to get off?” 

“f-fuck sir, can i cum? please?” you whine out, barely being able to keep your eyes open as you look at him. 

“yeah? you wanna cum, darling?” heeseung voice is almost teasing as he doesn’t stop his movements. 

“please let me cum, sir. please i’m so close.” 

“ok, cum for me, do it.” heeseung nods, his grunts loud in your ear as he manages to fuck you faster and faster. 

you can’t lift your head from being thrown back onto heeseung’s shoulder. your body feels weak as heeseung fucks you infront of the camera, probably hundreds of people watching you come undone on hluvsbabes’ cock. you’ve been so close to orgasming for which feels like hours at this point. 

“i’m cumming! i-i’m cumming!” you manage to cry out. your moans get higher in pitch as you finally reach your high. 

if heeseung wasn't holding your body up with his arms, then you wouldn’t fell straight to the floor. the pleasure was almost over consuming. your body was on high sensitivity everywhere. to be honest, it had been awhile since anyone besides yourself or your vibrator had made you cum. that probably not getting any dick for a while and then fucking the hluvsbabes would probably make you feel as lightheaded as you do now. 

heeseung gently pulls his cock from you, his hands slowing down on your clit before pulling away from it. he leads you to lay down on his bed. your head is on his pillow as he crawls on top of you. your bodies are still very visible to the camera from the way his bed is positioned. 

heeseung starts to press soft, gentle kisses into your neck and jaw, letting you calm down from your very obvious, hard climax. 

you hear heeseung chuckle into your ear before he speaks, “is this a bad time to tell you that i donated to you on your livestream before?” 

through your post-nut haze, your eyes widen as you process the information, “what? when?” 

heeseung laughs before he moves down your body, kissing every (sweaty) inch that he could, “a few days ago i guess, darling. i’ve watched your streams quite a lot to be honest.” 

the way the nickname rolls off his tongue so easily makes it click in your head. “oh my god, you were the person who donated like 200$ the other day!” you also start laughing at the realization. who could not believe that hluvsbabes not only watched multiple of your streams, but also donated to you. your competitor for top creator was also boosting your content. 

“yeah, i didn’t know how or if i should tell you that. but i guess now is the better time.” heeseung pulls away from your body so he’s on his knees hovering over you. “now put those legs up, let me see your swollen pussy again.” 

heeseung helps guide you to hook your arms around your knees, holding your legs up, pressed against your chest. your entire core is exposed for not only heeseung’s eyes, but the camera’s and all of the audience’s. 

“god please but your cock back inside of me, sir.” 

heeseung drags his cock through your folds teasingly, “yeah? the slut wants to be stretched out again?” 

“yes! sir, yes!” 

heeseung guides his cock back inside of you with his hand, bottoming out completely in one thrust. your arms stay hooked around your knees, your hands resting on your ankles to keep yourself from squirming from the pleasure. 

heeseung leans over you, his hand coming down to choke you again. his grip on your neck tight as he starts the previous pace he had. rough and hard. your whole body moves with every thrust, his headboard hitting his wall. 

“oh fuck oh fuck!” you cry out, your pussy so sensitive from being overstimulated. 

heeseung could feel your walls flutter around his cock, “you better not cum.” he pulls his cock out again, his hand slaps the tip of his cock over your clit, making you jerk up into his pillows. “tell me you won’t cum without permission, slut.” 

“i-i won’t cum without permission, sir.” 

heeseung slides back into you, his pace rough. the banging of his headboard in rhythm with his thrusts. your cries of pleasure mixing with his grunts. heeseung keeps both of his hands on your waist as he hovers over you. his main focus is to fuck you so good that you forget everything else. and by the way your eyes start to haze over with pleasure he can tell that he isn’t too far from it. 

“keep your legs up,” heeseung grunts to you, reminding you to keep your knees by your face. your swollen pussy is visible to him now. he has clear access to see his cock fucking into you. your lips are so puffy that he can’t help his thumb rubbing your also swollen clit. your head is thrown back into the pillow, his hard, circles on your clit mixing with his hard thrusts are overpowering you completely. 

heeseung leans over you, his hand gripping your neck again. his face is inches from you, his lips almost on yours. his thrusts don’t stop as he chokes you. 

“you like being a good girl for me?” heeseung asks you more quietly, loosening his grip on your neck for a moment to let you speak. 

“y-yes sir, i love it.” you nod up to him, completely submissive to him. 

“turn around for me again, then.” 

although your body felt weak from the pleasure, your adrenaline was rushing enough for you to be able to get up and turn over quite quickly. your ass up in the air as you grip onto the pillow in front of you. you feel heeseung behind you, lining up his hard, soaked cock with your soaked pussy. 

“push back on it, darling.” 

you let your knees push back, feeling his cock insert inside of you, filling you up yet again. this angle made him feel even bigger. his cock pressing into your cervix is only when you stop pushing back. heeseung’s hands land palm down on your ass when you bottom out. the pain makes you jut forward. the moan that escapes your lips as the pain settles on your ass is sinful. 

“god, i love your ass,” heeseung smacks it again, watching it start to turn red, turning him on more he thought his cock was going to explode any minute now. 

with that thought, heeseung starts sliding in and out of you again. his hand reaching over your back to pull your hair into a makeshift ponytail, pulling your upper half backward. the pain from his pulling makes you cry out in the best way. all of your senses seem to be overcome by heeseung. your grip on his pillow that smelt like him, tightened. 

“you like being fucked like this? like being used?” heeseung grunts out to you, his own eyebrows furrowing together as your walls clench around him. 

“ye-yeah, sir.” 

“say it.” 

“i like being used, sir.” 

“look at me while i fuck you.” 

with his hand still pulling your hair, you turn your head to look at him. his face is flushed, his lips are swollen from probably biting them so much. there’s sweat dripping down his line of abs that you just want to lick off. his bangs are sweaty and stuck to his forehead. he looks so hot. 

heeseung continues to fuck you until his thrusts get sloppy, his grunts get softer and his headboard isn’t banging against his wall. you turn to look at him, “let me ride you.” 

his hand smacks against one of your ass cheeks, making you cry out, “ask me.” 

“can i please ride you, sir?” 

heeseung pulls out of you, both of you switching places so now heeseung’s head is in the pillow that you were gripping. his legs are flat out against the bed as you crawl over him. both of your knees are on either side of him as you look down at him now. 

slowly, you start to sink down onto his cock. you close your eyes as he bottoms out in you once again. this angle felt entirely different. you could feel how hard and big he was inside of you. heeseung’s hands run up and down your bare thighs, letting you get use to the angle. 

“you good?” he asks from below you, concern on his face. 

“yeah, just sensitive -is all.” you shrug to him and start to move slowly. you start out slow, wanting to build both of your orgasms again. your knees lift your body up and down with the help of heeseung’s hands on your waist, he helps lift you. 

your hands grip your tits, massaging them again. your sensitive nipples hard against your palm. you start to bounce down on his harder, his tip hitting your g spot everytime now. you cry out in pleasure again. 

“fuck just like that,” you tell him, your eyes closed as you nod to him. 

“like that?” heeseung teases you, his cock hitting your g spot again. 

“y-yes,” you tell him, bouncing harder. 

“fuck, i love his pussy,” heeseung grunts to you, “so warm and tight around my cock.” 

“oh my god,” your body falls forward, your hands resting on either side of his head as heeseung takes over the thrusts completely. his hands on your waist as he thrusts his hips upwards into your pussy. “fuck, sir.” 

heeseungs grip on you leaves you to go nowhere. just stay on top of him as he fucks into you. your knees feel weak against his mattress. you can feel his balls slapping your ass every time he bottoms out in you. heeseung can feel your juices dripping down onto his lower stomach. 

“okay turn around, slut, let the audience see you.” heeseung gently pushes your core up and off of him. your mind feels dazed as heeseung has to literally, physically flip you over on him. 

now that you’re in reverse cowgirl, you can see yourself in the camera’s monitor. heeseung lays underneath you still, so just your bare body can be seen completely. you look so different you usually do, you’re glowing. 

your feet and arms hold your body up over heeseung, his hands on your waist as he slides himself up into you. 

“oh fuck!” you cry out, watching heeseung dick disappear inside of you in the camera. you start to bounce up and down on his cock again, though you keep your eyes open to watch yourself. 

“shit, keep going, baby.” heeseung grunts below you, “just like that.” 

with every thrust heeseung’s balls are hitting your clit. you can hear a wet squelch between your bodies everytime you move. your pussy is so wet around his cock. heeseung wraps his arm around your body, massaging your clit with his fingers in a circle once again. 

“yes, sir! rub my clit, sir please!” you cry out to him. your hands sturdy yourself on his chest behind you as you continue to bounce on him. his cock filling you up every time. his hard balls slapping against your pussy. his fingers keep moving against your clit. “i’m so close, sir, so close!” 

suddenly, heeseung’s fingers stop and he’s pushing you off of him. your chest is heaving as you look back on him. your pussy is clamping around nothing, so desperate to cum. 

“lay down,” heeseung is also out of breath when he speaks, “wanna see your face when you cum.” heeseung grabs your forearm and helps you lay down again. he puts your one leg up to your face, allowing him access to slide into your fucking soak pussy again. 

heeseung holds your leg up, while the other starts to rub your clit again. his thrusts continue to stretch you out, to hit your cervix over and over again. you aren’t sure how much longer you can last with this much pleasure he continuously gives you. you’ve never had sex this good before. 

“want me to fill up your little pussy?” heeseung grunts above you. 

“yes, sir.” 

“ask me.” 

“please cum inside of me!” you cry out, heeseung’s hand smacks your thigh before returning to hold your leg up, “own this pussy, fucking own it it’s yours!” 

“oh fuck!” heeseung grunts out, your words making him closer to his own orgasm so quickly. 

“oh my god i wanna feel you fill me up so bad, sir.” you were becoming so desperate, so needy. you wanted to cum so bad. you wanted heeseung to cum so bad. 

“fuck me, keep talking, keep talking, darling.” 

“please cum inside of me! i want it so bad!” you tell him honestly. his thrusts making your whole body move with each thrust. you can feel his cock start to twitch inside of you. his moans getting higher, mixing with your own. 

“fuck, baby, i’m gonna fucken cum,” heeseung tells you, his fingers rubbing your clit faster and harder. 

“me too, me too.” you cry out, your eyes closing as the pleasure takes over you. 

heeseung’s eyebrows furrowed together as the pleasure became too much for him, too. curses and moans fill up his bedroom– entertain the audience that’s watching you through the camera. he feels your walls clench harder around him than ever before as his cock starts to spurt his white sperm. 

heeseung paints your walls with his cum as you grip his forearms tight. your second orgasm making your body feel numb from how good you feel. his thrusts finally stop as his grunts slow down. his cock rests inside of you as he lays on top of you. both of you catching your breaths and coming down from your highs for one second. 

“fuck,” heeseung curses in your ear, his chest heaving against yours. he finally pulls out of you, both of you watching his cum slowly trickle out of your pussy. “god that’s so hot.”  heeseung reaches down to swipe some of his cum. 

you immediately open your mouth, wanting a taste of it. heeseung rests his fingers on your tongue, letting you taste his salty sperm. you moan around his fingers, sucking them dry of his cum. 

“you’re such a good girl.” heeseung grunts out, “you’re gonna make me hard again.” 

you laugh around his fingers, “i wouldn’t be opposed to that.” 

heeseung smirks at you and kisses you deeply. both of your eyes closing as you welcome the other’s lips. the taste of heeseung’s cum not bothering either of you. 

heeseung pulls away from you and is the first to stand up. he reaches over and tosses you his shirt to slip on before he heads back to his computer desk. 

you easily slip on his shirt and pull his sheets and blanket over top of your bare legs. 

“holy shit.” heeseung exclaims, pure shock and what almost sounds like fear in his voice. 

“what?” you sit up in his bed properly, trying to look at his computer screen. 

“there’s 30,000 viewers right now.” 

“holy shit.” you cover your mouth. you had never had that many viewers before in your life. 30,000 viewers, it’s literally like yours and heeseung’s fan bases came together to view your live stream. 

heeseung clears his throat, “uh, thank you guys so much, really. we hope you enjoyed, right?” he looks over at you from his shoulder. 

“right, we’ll see you next time, hopefully. thank you.” 

“right, because there definitely needs to be a next time.” heeseung winks and with a final wave he ends the stream. you notice the red light on the camera turns off. 

you lay back in heeseung’s pillows, feeling tired as your legs gain back their strength. you hear heeseung hum gently as he fixes things on his computer, on his hluvsbabes account. you feel relaxed as you lay in his bed, wanting to sleep so bad. 

“holy shit!” heeseung yells louder suddenly, his humming stopping as he pushes his chair back, standing up in only his boxers. 

“what?” your heart races, concerned from his yelling. “what happened?”

“y/n,” heeseung turns to you with a silly grin on his face, “do you know how much money we made off of that?” 

you sit up straight, leaning closer to him though he’s meters away, “how much, heeseung.” 

heeseung can’t contain his excitement when he states, “15k.” 

“oh my god!” you cover your mouth, not believing what you’re hearing. “you’re fucking lying.” 

“no i’m not! come look!” 

you stand up, legs wobbling a bit, but heeseung catches your arm nonchalantly. bringing you over to sit in his chair again. there, on the computer screen, is the number 15,000$ in tips connected to the livestream you had finished. 

“oh my god, heeseung!” you turn to him, your excitement meeting his. both of you wrap your arms around each other, your squeals filling the room as you rock side to side with excitement. “15k!” 

“15k!” heeseung shouts back as he pulls away slightly, his hands still on your waist. 

“now we definitely have to do it again.” you tease him. 

heeseung smiles, but you notice his shoulders tense, “yeah, but before that,” heeseung swallows harshly, “could we go on a date?’ 

you sit up in his chair, wearing his shirt and nothing else, “wow, the hluvsbabes wants to go on a date with me.” 

“of course, i mean, i recently got a lot of money. so, i can spend it all on you.” 

you shove his shoulder with your hand, “of course i’ll go on a date with you, heeseung.” 

“really?” heeseung asks, his face lighting up so prettily. 

“yeah, but only if you fuck me really good after.” 

“that, i can definitely promise.”

@ taeghi, 2024. do not repost or reuse in anyway.

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY, AS LIKES MAKE IT HARD FOR WORK TO BE SPREAD AND ENJOYED BY OTHERS :)

stay safe everyone :)

[gravegoer]

What if we get like an internal monologue of just how much Sevika is into you? Like if it’s her first day as counselor and she sees you walking around the halls helping out as an assistant. She can’t help but think reader is so damn cute! Maybe even reader flirts a little from afar <3

Pretty Piltie ⋆˚✿

thank you anon, and yes i love this, this is very cute ! i went a little different for some plot but i hope you like it :) i also have a few more pirate sevika fics coming out so look out for those ! coming sometime this week :) masterlist

After her first day on the council, she saw you in the hallway, walking around with your clipboard in your face. (Definitely in a hurry)

She raised an eyebrow at the pep in your step and the carelessness of you flipping through pages while walking. Before she could even move to the side, you bumped into her.

"I'm so sorry," You looked up at her with an embarrassed look on your face, "I thought the halls would be empty."

She couldn't even get a word out before your eyes widened, "Shit. The meeting is over, isn't it?"

You scurried to the doors she just came from, and she almost laughed at your actions. Even after the exasperating meeting she had a smile graced her lips.

Well, I could get used to that.

When she got home, her mind flashed back to the girl she encountered in the hallway, furrowing her brows. She tried to rid of the image. Maybe she was just thinking about it because it's the only exciting thing that occurred today. Yeah, that's it.

The next week, she had to come back for a second meeting, this time staying back longer to discuss things in finer details. A couple of councilors have already up and left as it was getting late.

After a few minutes, she saw you walk in with one of the council members. You had a nervous smile on your face while the older woman spoke to you.

Sevika let out a snort at your expression, finding it to be oddly cute but containing herself moments later. Although she couldn't stop eyeing you when you stood behind the councilors chair just across from her.

You were scrawling out things on your clipboard while the grey-haired woman in front of you spoke. Sevika was only half listening as her eyes bored into your face, taking in all your features.

I mean, who knew Piltover had princesses like this.

Suddenly, you looked up to make eye contact with Sevika, her brows 5 she averted eye contact to look at the woman in front of you.

She saw your smile from the corner of her vision when she looked away. Fuck.

It seemed like every time you looked away she stared back at you, she didn't come here to eye-fuck her co-workers assistant but damn.

She watched the way you tilted your head when hearing something strange, or raised your eyebrows at something controversial, bending over to whisper something in the ear of your boss.

All in all she was definitely lost in thought when someone called her name, "Sevika!"

She looked over at the woman beside her who spoke, "Shall I repeat myself? I say, what are your thoughts on this matter?"

Sevika blanked. She racked her brain for an answer but the only one it was coming up with was the curve of your smile and the hue of your eyes.

She saw your surprised face and you mouthed something to her, "Say you agree."

She coughed into her fist before speaking, "I suppose that's fine."

The others looked at her suspiciously but carried on nonetheless. Throughout the rest of the meeting she made sure to pay close attention, so that she wouldn't slip up Infront of her co-workers again.

When the meeting was dismissed she was the last to leave, running her hand down her face in a way to ease her mind. She took a deep breath before stepping into the hall.

She was greeted with the sight of you talking to a few advisors, taking notes, and handing out papers. She found it endearing the way you bounced from person to person, engaging in conversation.

It seemed like you were taking peoples opinions for your survey. This was her chance to redeem herself. (She's embarrassed you had to help her earlier.

After speaking with an unfamiliar lanky man, you turned around and locked eyes with Sevika once again.

You waved at her, flashing her a cute grin. But before you could take a step towards her, your boss was calling her away.

Immediately, you deadpanned and pulled your lips into an exaggerated frown. Sevika smirked at your expressions and flicked her hand teasingly in a shoo, motion.

She would most definetly be seeing you again.

i know this is a bit shorter than my usual, spare me

im also having major writers block and i have 20+ asks so 🙏 let me cook here, i also have many projects i want to get to

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

Best Friends Brother pt. 2 | C.W. ⋆✮⋆˙

feat. Charlie Weasley x fem!reader

SUMMARY: Months have passed since you met (ie shagged and definitely didn't fall in love with) Charlie Weasley. And when Molly invites you to the Burrow for Christmas, your best friends Fred and George assure you that Charlie will not be in attendance. Spoiler alert: They are wrong.

CW: MDNI 18+, lots of christmas fluff and smut, Charlie being a shameless flirt, pining, brat tamer and primal!charlie if you squint, dirty talk, p in v, oral (f receiving), this is so tooth-rotting I cannot

AN: Charlie might be my favorite weasley to write for. and the implications of brat taming and primal play have my mind reeeeeeling

part one | masterlist

“So what are you doing for Christmas, deary?” Mrs. Weasley asked, stirring a sugar lump into her tea. You were squeezed beside Fred into a booth at tea shop in Diagon Alley, having run into your best friends and their mother while Christmas shopping. Molly insisted you join them for a rejuvenating cuppa, and you weren't one to refuse an earl grey.

“Oh, nothing really. Probably watch some corny films and get take away,” you replied, nibbling on the edge of a croissant.

“What?!” She gasped, so loud the neighboring tables turned to see what the fuss what about.

Fred and George pulled an identical grimace.

“Unacceptable!” She cried, dropping her spoon with a clatter. “Why on earth didn't you tell me she was spending Christmas alone?!” She whacked George on the arm and kicked Fred in the shin under the table.

“We didn't know!” They whined in unison, rubbing their injuries.

“Oh, Mrs. Weasley, it really isn't a big deal—”

“Not a big deal! Dear, it's Christmas!” She reached across the table and took your hands, squeezing hard and holding your eye. “You will spend it with us at the Burrow, alright?”

Your heart stopped, your tongue going thick. “Oh, I-uh—”

“Charlie will be in Romania,” Fred hissed to you from the corner of his mouth. “Just say yes, or she’ll skin us.”

Charlie. Best friends brother, dragon wrangler, and the best lay you'd ever had in your life. It had been three months since your tryst in the storage room, and the hours of effortless conversation that came after, and you'd thought of him every day since.

You'd exchanged a few letters over the months, pleasantries and some light flirting on Charlie's part. He'd even sent you a few shed scales from your favorite dragon species, the Welsh Green, but beyond that, nothing had transpired.

He lived on Romania, after all. And his work was his life. You just had a bit of fun together, a few hours of fantasy, nothing more. But no matter how many times you repeated that like mantra, you still found yourself unable to move on.

“I hope you know, love, I will not accept 'no' as an answer,” Molly said, pining you with a stern glare.

“Well, thank you, Mrs. Weasley. I’m very grateful for the invitation, and I'd love to spend the holidays with your family,” you said, offering as genuine a smile you could muster despite your trepidation, and Molly beamed at you, already running through her plans for you all.

Fred slung an arm around your shoulders, jostling you with his excitement. “Yes! You're gonna love it.”

You were grateful, and you were eager to have a real Christmas with a family you adored, but it still felt…odd. You'd be spending the holidays with Charlie's family, but not Charlie.

You weren't sure if you were relieved or disappointed but…either way you were spending Christmas at the Weasley’s.

The Burrow and it's residents welcomed you with open arms. The sprawling home was decorated floor to rafter in homemade garland and candles, with decorated trees in every room, branches heavy with ornaments and paper chains.

Harry, Hermione, and Fleur were also staying over the holidays, and Ginny was beside herself with excitement that you were joining as well, pulling you in for a crushing hug that squeezed the last of bits of anxiety from your heart. Percy and Bill helped with your things, and the twins were quick to get a drink in your hand while everyone chatted excitedly over one another.

It was warm and merry, and you couldn't believe you almost missed this because of a stupid, little crush.

After about an hour of conversation, you noticed Ginny start to fidget under Harry’s arm, glancing at the location clock by the stairs every few minutes. The hand with Charlie's name remained firmly at ‘work’, while the rest piled into ‘home’.

You exhaled, fighting the nerves reknitting themselves in your stomach.

“Oi, twitchy,” Fred bumped your shoulder, drawing your attention back to the conversation. “What's on your mind—”

The floo station suddenly flared to life, verdant green light blasting through the room as the flames roared. Everyone yelped and scurried back, well, besides Ginny, and when the flames died the next instant, you realized why.

Charlie Weasley stood at the center of the fireplace, a bag over his shoulder and a smug smile on his face.

Your stomach turned inside out.

Merlin, how had he gotten even more handsome? His hair was a slightly longer, his beard thicker to ward off the biting, Romanian cold. He wore a heavy coat and cargo pants, leather boots still packed with melting snow.

“Charles!” Molly shrieked, throwing herself at her second oldest son and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug.

“Charlie!” Everyone cried, rushing to greet him while you tiptoed the opposite way, meaning to escape into the hall so you could collect yourself.

“Ah, ah,” George said, catching your wrist, grinning. “You don't want to do that,” he teased.

“And why not?” You huffed.

“Better to play it cool,” he winked, and you stuck your tongue out at him.

He was right, though. You would only survive this if you played it cool. Pretended everything was normal, that you hadn't been pining for this man for weeks on end, that the thought of spending Christmas with Charlie didn't make your heart flutter with excitement.

“But the clock!” Arthur laughed, finally wrangling Molly away so he could hug his son.

“Asked Ginevra to enchant it,” Charlie said, hugging his father with one arm and bundling his little sister into his opposite side, dropping a kiss on top of her head. “Seems she did well.”

“It is not to be tampered with!” Molly crowed, wiping tears from her cheeks.

“Alright, alright. I'll fix it,” Charlie chuckled, withdrawing his wand from his belt and muttering a reversal spell. The clock hand whirred around the face, confused, before it finally settled on ‘home’ with everyone else.

Charlie made his way around the room, hugging everyone and chatting until finally, he reached George, who you were attempting to hide behind.

Charlie pulled him into a bear hug, clapping him on the back. “She knows I can see her, right?” He murmured to George, just loud enough to be sure you also heard him.

Your cheeks warmed, your stomach falling through the floor.

George scoffed. “Stop checkin’ out my girlfriend, mate.”

Charlie grinned, shoving George to the side, perhaps a little harder than necessary. “Dream on, Georgie,” he chuckled, eyes shining with amusement. He finally turned to you, his expression softening. “Happy Christmas, y/n,” he said, approaching slowly, the heavy plod of his boots matching the jump of your heart.

“Happy Christmas, Charlie,” you replied, playing coy and reaching up to brush some snow from his wide shoulder. “How's my Welsh Green?” you asked.

Charlie smirked, his eyes sweeping over your face, down your neck, before flicking back to your eyes. “She nearly took my head off this morning when I tried to give her breakfast.”

“My kind of girl.” You felt your skin prickle under his attention, but you held your composure.

“Mine too,” he purred, lowering his voice. Heat curled low in your stomach, remembering the way his voice pitched and deepened while you—good god, you were losing your mind.

“Time for supper!” Molly called over the dull roar of conversation, and you slipped away from Charlie to follow the twins into the dining room, desperate for a breath that wasn’t sweetened by his cologne.

Dinner went by in a blur of food and activity, Charlie sat by Arthur at the head while you were sequestered to the other side with the twins. After eating, Charlie slipped away to shower, and you joined everyone else back in the living room for board games and music.

You were wrapped up in a game of Scrabble with Hermoine and Ginny when Charlie re-emerged, his hair damp and slicked back, dressed in flannel pajama pants and a black t-shirt. Your mouth dried, your pussy fluttering at the mental image of him in the shower moments before.

His eyes found you across the room, his tongue darting out to wet his lips while they swept over you, taking in the House crewneck and pj shorts you’d changed into. You turned back the game to hide your face, swallowing the lump in your throat.

A moment passed, then Charlie turned to join Bill, Percy, and Arthur in the study, casting you another glance over his shoulder before disappearing.

A few more hours rolled by, and one by one, everyone went to bed besides the older men in the study. Molly set you up on the couch, apologizing profusely for the lack of space, but you waved her off, happy to curl up by the fire and read the book Percy lent you.

You settled in with a blanket over your lap, a book in one hand, cup of tea in the other. Soon though, exhaustion began to tug at you, and your eyes started to flutter closed, the warmth of the room and the chaos of the day taking its toll as you slipped into unconsciousness.

Distantly, you felt someone take the book from your hand, the empty tea cup from your lap, and you swam back to wakefulness, lifting your head.

“Just me, love,” a voice said, soft and male, and you immediately recognized it as Charlie’s.

You blinked open your eyes, finding him sticking a playing card in your book to hold your page. “Oh, what are you doin’?” you mumbled, rubbing a knuckle in your eye.

“Are you sleeping down here?” he asked, crouching in front of you, brow lightly creased. He smelled like woodsmoke and cinnamon, and you had to remind your sleep-addled mind that you could not just melt into his arms like softened candle wax.

You nodded. “Guest beds are full. But it’s okay, m’comfy.” You snuggled back down on to the couch, pulling the blanket up to your chin.

“I don’t think so. C’mon, you can take my bed.”

You shook your head, grumbling an unintelligible protest into the pillow as sleep crept back in on you.

Suddenly, you were moving, the couch falling away.

“I’m not letting you sleep on the sodding couch,” Charlie grumbled, curling you into his chest. You gave half a thought to try and free yourself, to put up some sort of fight, but his heartbeat was right against your ear, reverberating in the barrel of his chest, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to move away.

He carried you up a few flights of stairs and down a hallway, nudging open a bedroom door with his foot, careful to walk you through without bumping against anything. He set you down on his bed and tucked you under the thick duvet. The smell of him wrapped around you, clean and warm and Charlie, and you moaned in contentment, too tired to stop yourself.

Every one of your cells had missed him.

He pressed a light-as-air kiss to your temple before pulling away. You reached out to catch his hand, surprising him.

“Where are you gonna sleep?” You asked, voice muffled by his pillow.

“I’ll find somewhere,” he murmured, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb. “Used to sleeping in strange places.”

You must have pulled some kind of face, your filter nonexistent in your sleepy state, because he leaned back down to you, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“Better stop with that pout, sweetheart. You’ve got me strung out on the gallows,” he warned, a teasing lilt to his voice.

“M’not doing anything,” you teased back, peeking open your eyes to look at him.

“I’m trying to behave this time,” he chuckled, crossing his heart. “You deserve to be properly courted.”

A yawn stole the snarky quip from your tongue. “If you insist,” you sigh, eyes fluttering closed again.

“I do. Now, get some sleep,” he whispered, but you were already gone.

The following morning, you trudged down the stairs at an egregious hour, the incessant, jovial chatter of the Weasley's impossible to sleep through.

You found them all in the kitchen, steam from the kettle floating through the air, chased by the scent of cinnamon and syrup.

“There she is! The dead walks the earth! Now go bloody change!” Arthur shouted, shoving a rumpled but bright-eyed looking Charlie out from the crowd around the kitchen island.

“Huh?” You looked between the twins and Arthur, but Charlie slung an arm over your shoulder, tugging you into his side.

“I've been summoned to the Ministry for an update on a particularly nasty Horntail,” he said, then leaned in a little closer. “And Happy Christmas Eve, darling,” he whispered.

“Happy Christmas Eve—sorry, what does that have to do with me?” You asked, your brain catching up to the situation.

“The sap refused to risk waking you up to change into his suit,” George supplied. "So they're running late."

“Why would you—”

“Ignore them, you can sleep as long as you like,” he murmured to you.

“Charlie!” You hissed. “You should have woken me up!”

“Over my dead body, love.”

“Charles! Now!” Molly shouted, rattling the rafters.

“Fine, fine.” He reluctantly pulled away from you and bound up the stairs.

“Good morning,” Fred said, beaming at your scowl.

“Morning people, are we?” You asked, accepting a cup of coffee from George.

“No,” Ron argued, his head pillowed by his arms on the table.

Fifteen minutes later, the clop of heavy boots coming down the stairs drew everyone's attention away from their breakfast.

Charlie came around the bend, dressed in a simple, espresso colored suit with a black wool coat, a leather bag slung over his shoulder. His hair was pushed back, brushed and tidy, and silver jewelry shined from his pierced ears and ringed hands.

You nearly choked on your eggs, and Fred clapped a hand on your back.

Everyone wolf whistled and jeered, not used to seeing their rakish brother dressed to the nines. Charlie waved them off with a soft smile, leaning over you to grab a cinnamon roll. His freshly applied cologne wafted over you, spicy and warm, and all other thoughts vacated your head.

Arthur grabbed him by the arm. “Yes, yes. You're very handsome, you are my son after all. Let's go.”

“Wish us luck!” Charlie called, allowing an impatient Arthur to drag him towards the floo station. In a burst of green, they were gone.

“Are all mornings this chaotic?” You asked no one in particular.

“Yes,” they all replied in a unison, and you grinned.

You could get used to a little chaos.

The day passed in a whirlwind of preparation, with you spending most of it with Molly in the kitchen or decorating with the twins.

Once that was finished, you'd gotten ready in Charlie's room, dressing in a white sweater dress and black stockings, your hair loose and makeup light.

You couldn't help but wonder what Charlie would think of it as you evaluated yourself in the mirror. You felt his absence like an ache in your side, and found your gaze wandering back to the floo station all day.

About an hour before dinner, green flames finally erupted in the fireplace. Everyone dropped what they were doing and rushed over, eager to hear about how it went at the Ministry.

You'd gathered from the twins that the fate of the Horntail hung in the balance after it destroyed a flock of sheep in Western Scotland. Charlie, along with several other Dragonologists, had been fighting for it’s life for months.

The flames extinguished, revealing Arthur and Charlie. Arthur was beaming, an arm around his son, while Charlie looked exhausted.

“Oh, thank goodness. Just in time!” Molly cried, throwing her arms around her husband.

“How'd it go?” Everyone asked at once, following Charlie as he stalked into the living room and dropped heavily onto the couch.

Charlie pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes shut against the racket.

“Our son was incredible, Molly. You should have seen him. Every question, he beat away like a bludger. It was masterful,” Arthur gushed, still grinning.

You watched Charlie warily. He certainly wasn't acting like it had gone well.

Bill, seeming as concerned as you, poured a glass of whiskey and passed it to his younger brother. Charlie swallowed the amber drink in one go, not even bothering to open his eyes.

“So, is the Horntail safe?” Ginny asked, sitting tentatively beside her brother on the couch.

“For now,” Charlie muttered, finally picking his head up and opening his eyes. “They want to reevaluate in six months.”

“But that's good, isn't it?” Harry asked.

Charlie nodded. “I suppose.”

You could feel the hurt and anger radiating off of him despite his efforts at composure. The resolution clearly wasn't good enough for him, and you understood why.

You resisted the urge to sit by him, to fuss over him like his family was doing. It seemed to only drive him deeper into himself. He didn't need to hear that it was a good thing, a victory, because it wasn't. It shouldn't be a debate in the first place.

Christmas Eve dinner passed with the expected chaos, and Charlie seemed to cheer a bit after a good meal, a few laughs, and another whiskey. But you could still detect a heaviness around his shoulders. You felt it as keenly as if it was your own burden.

After dinner, everyone moved back into the living room, but you followed Charlie into the now abandoned kitchen, the wreckage of the meal evident on every surface.

You leaned against the entry way, watching as he fiddled with random things, looking for a way to distract himself. “Hey,” you murmured, drawing his attention from the mugs he was straightening.

He gave you a tired smile. “Hi, love. How was your day?” He asked, moving towards you. He'd ditched his blazer and dress shirt before dinner, leaving him in his dark trousers and a white t-shirt, his muscles straining against the fabric.

“It was good. Made some cookies, strung some lights. We missed you, though.”

He braced a hand on the wall beside your head, leaning closer. “We?” He asked, raising a brow.

Merlin, his bicep was the size of your head.

You shrugged, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Me, mostly.”

The corner of his mouth lifted, freckles crinkling around his eyes. “I missed you too. Would have much rather been here to help out. I make a mean gingerbread.”

“I bet you do," you replied sincerely, watching the way his shoulders start to ease down. “I’m sorry about the Horntail,” you said, a little quieter. “But I'm glad you bought it a little more time.”

Charlie sighed, picking at a flake of paint on the wall. “I am too. Just wish I didn't have to do it at all. He doesn't deserve to be executed just for feeding himself.”

“I know. But I'm glad he has you to speak for him.”

Charlie searched your face, his eyes melting with blatant affection. Your heart tripped over itself, drumming hard under your skin.

He glanced up and you followed his gaze, finding a sprig of mistletoe hanging just above your heads. You hadn't noticed it before, but you supposed that was the beauty of mistletoe: it was always where you least expected it.

His eyes flicked back down to you, molten chocolate, and your thoughts turned to static. He reached up to cup your face, far more timid than you've come to expect from him, and tilted your head up towards his.

“Can't believe I haven't told you how beautiful you look yet,” he said, his other hand sliding around your waist to draw you closer. “A Christmas wish come true.”

You smiled, feeling like marshmallow over an open flame. “A Christmas wish?” You prodded, batting your lashes at him as heat spilled through you.

“Too cheesy?” He asked, bumping his nose against yours, your faces so close you could almost feel his smirk.

“The perfect amount,” you murmured, your lips grazing his.

Charlie closed the final millimeter, pressing your bodies together in a slow, sipping kiss. Every neuron in your body lit up, reaching towards him as you curled your fingers into his shirt, deepening the kiss. His tongue caressed the seam of your mouth and you parted for him, letting him delve further and taste you.

He loosed a low groan, his grip tightening as he backed you against the wall. He licked into your mouth, stoking the fire simmering under your skin.

“Hey, y/n—merlin, in the middle of the kitchen? Really?”

You and Charlie sprang apart, finding Fred with a hand clapped over his eyes, a cheeky grin on his face.

“So sorry for interrupting. Though, lucky it was me and not mum,” he teased, dropping his hand. But his smile quickly fell too when Charlie advanced on him, swinging an arm out in an attempt to grab him. Fred ducked to the left and bolted back into the living room, leaving Charlie laughing and shaking his head.

“Well, that's fantastic,” you huffed, pressing a hand to your sternum to quell your pounding heart.

“I can't say they'll be all that surprised.” Charlie cupped your face again, drawing you up for a quick peck. “I haven't shut up about you since we met.”

You're soul lifted out of your body. “You—r-really?”

He smiled, pulling you in for a hug, his big arms wrapped around your head and shoulders. “Really, love. You've got me wrapped around your little finger,” he said, his voice muffled by your hair.

“I thought I was going mad, I…I couldn't stop thinking about you,” you admitted, exhaling in relief. You hugged him around the waist, sliding your hands under his shirt just to feel his skin against yours.

You felt him stiffen at your admission, before the tension dissolved from his muscles completely. “Maybe we're both a little mad, then,” he chuckled.

“We should get back to the party before they start to miss us,” you said after a few moments of quiet, though all you wanted to do was drag him up to his room and show him just how mad you were for him. But you were a guest, and you needed a moment to get your thoughts in order.

It seemed Charlie had made up his mind about what he wanted, but you hadn't even begun to let yourself consider something real with Charlie Weasley. It seemed like too lofty a hope, an impossibility.

Your heart screamed ‘yes’ but your mind demanded a rationalization, a plan. Whatever you felt for him was intense, but you would hate to rush into something and ruin what you knew could be amazing.

Well, rush into something any more than your already had.

You realized he was studying you like your thoughts were written across your skin. “Baby, look at me,” he said, turning your face back up to his. “I know we started off on an…unorthodox foot. But that wasn't just a hook up and you and I both know it.” He leaned his forehead against yours. “There’s something more between us.”

“I feel it too,” you admitted. “But I've never…” you trailed off, unable to articulate the tumbling thoughts in your mind.

“Me neither, to be honest. I feel like I've been struck by lightning,” he said, breathless, a slight nervous tremble in his voice.

You nodded, reassured that he was feeling the same, vaguely crazed way you were.

“Trust yourself, y/n,” he said, releasing you from the hug and offering you his hand. “Overthinking is the thief of joy.”

“Get out of my brain,” you huffed in mock annoyance, smiling as you twined your fingers with his.

The rest of the evening passed in a rose colored blur, with cookies and games and storytelling. Charlie never strayed far from your side, though you kept any physical affection to a minimum. But based on the knowing looks from Arthur and Molly, and the teasing smirks and jabs from his siblings, they were definitely on to you two.

After the clock struck midnight, Molly demanded everyone go off to bed so Father Christmas would have no interruptions. You were all plenty old enough to know there was no such thing, but it still made you feel a giddy thrill of excitement. That glimmer of Christmas magic you never grow out of.

Charlie offered you his hand at the base of the stairs, a mischievous sort of smile on his face, and you accepted with a raised eyebrow. He led you up the stairs and opened the door to his room with a flourish.

You nearly toppled over when you walked in. It was completely transformed from this morning. Gone were the normal decorations and his dark duvet, replaced instead with a winter forest wonderland.

His bedspread was a deep forest green, with white throw pillows and silver trim, and a stuffed reindeer waited patiently for you on the pillow, floppy and velveteen. In the corner stood a flocked tree, decorated with pine cones and strung cranberries, and little animal ornaments carved from wood. The fire roared merrily in the fireplace, the mantle above it strewn with wild garland and rosemary. Two stockings hung above the flame, each of your names embroidered on them in silver and gold.

You whirled around to look at Charlie, who was smiling down at you, a slight flush to his freckled cheeks.

“When the hell did you have time to do this?” You asked, breathless and overwhelmed. No one has ever done something so special for you before.

“While you were wrapped up in Wizards Chess with Ron.” He snaked his arms around you, dropping a kiss to your furrowed brow.

“Charlie, this is—” emotion clogged your throat. “T-this is the m-most amazing thing—”

“Oh, baby,” he cooed, shushing you with a peck to your lips. “Spoiling you on Christmas feels like the least I can do to show you how much you mean to me. How badly I want this.”

“This?” You ask, sliding your hands up his broad chest. You expected to feel butterflies, but instead a warm blanket of peace settled over you, an understanding that this is exactly how it was meant to go. That here, with him, in the earliest hours of Christmas morning, was exactly where you belonged.

“Us,” he murmured, glancing at the stockings over the mantle, then back down to you, his dark eyes practically glowing with affection. “If that's what you want too.”

“Even with me here in London?” You asked, fiddling with his collar to hide the shaking in your fingers.

“We'll figure it out. You can come visit me as often as you like. And I can come back here a few times a month.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your cheek, moving down your neck like he just couldn't hold himself back anymore. “I have a cabin.” Kiss. “In the forest.” Kiss. “With a big fireplace.” Kiss. “And a soaking tub.” Kiss. “And I can cook.” Kiss. “And have a giant bed—”

“Charlie!” You giggled, tugging on his hair so he lifted his head and you could kiss him properly, melting under the eagerness of his mouth, the joy in his kiss.

He scooped you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He crossed the room without breaking the kiss, sinking down onto the edge of the bed with you straddling him. The heat of your bodies pressed together was enough to have your pussy tingling, your breath labored.

“I wanna go where you go,” you breathed, breaking the kiss to appease your burning lungs. “I want to be with you.”

He responded with another fervid kiss, open-mouthed and hungry, and you let yourself get swept away in the riptide that was Charlie Weasley. Wild, impulsive, but so sincere, so lion-hearted and good. You weren't sure you'd ever get enough of him.

He seemed just as desperate for you, tugging his shirt over his head and letting your hands finally wander the full expanse of his body without barriers. You pushed him back onto the bed so you could really take him in, his big hands resting heavily on your thighs. He was broad and sturdy, his chest and arms corded with hard earned muscle, the tanned skin littered with freckles and silvery scars.

You nearly started drooling.

In a fluid motion, you tugged your sweater dress over your head, leaving you in nothing but your Christmas underwear set and black stockings. The set was black mesh, decorated with mistletoe and holly berries. You had bought in Hogsmeade on the off chance Charlie made an appearance, and it was worth the steep price to see his soul ascend as he took you in.

“Merlin’s fucking—” he didn't even finish the sentence, instead pulling you down onto his chest for another scalding kiss, his calloused hands wandering up your thighs and over your hips, smoothing over the curve of your rib cage and around the plane of your back. His tongue slid into your mouth, twining with yours. You could taste the whiskey he'd been drinking, tinged with cigar smoke and gingerbread, and you moaned at the decadence of him.

One of his hands slid around to cup the nape of your neck, the other bracketing across your lower back to press your hips flush to his. You ground down onto him, unable to ignore the thrumming between your legs any longer. You both groaned at the new friction, his hips lifting to press more firmly against you.

“Just so you know,” he gruffed as you kissed down his neck, licking a long stripe over his Adam’s apple, feeling his stubble under your tongue. “I put a silencing charm on the room.”

“Very presumptuous of you,” you teased, sucking at his pulse just hard enough to leave a faint bruise, but nothing too obvious.

His hips rolled against yours, coaxing a breathy moan from your lips. “Part of my training includes being prepared for any situation,” he countered, his voice strained with desire as you rocked against him.

“Uh-huh. And what else were you trained to do?” You asked, freezing in place to watch him squirm.

A wicked smirk crossed his face and suddenly you were moving, flipped beneath his body faster than you could blink. “How to tame brats,” he growled against your ear, and a shiver rolled down your spine.

He shifted down your body, kissing and licking along the swell of your breasts before unlatching your bra and tossing in across the room. He took both your tits in his hands, nuzzling the soft flesh before laving his tongue across both nipples, making you lift off the bed with a gasp of pleasure.

“It's not fair that you get to walk around with these all the time. Too fucking perfect,” he said, his voice muffled by your skin.

You almost said that they were his. That the only thing that wasn't fair was how quickly he'd stolen your heart. But you bit your tongue, moaning under his ministrations instead.

He sucked a pearled nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue over it before grazing his teeth against it, his fingers pinching and rolling the other until your eyes crossed, desire pooling between your legs.

“Can take my time with you now,” he hummed, pulling back to pepper kisses across your chest. “Take care of my girl properly.”

My girl. Your head spun, your heart swelling with elation. You never thought this would happen for you, the perpetually single girl who never found someone you genuinely connected with. But Charlie was like a comet tearing through your life, turning every one of your assumptions about love upside down.

He drew you back from your thoughts with a bite under your left breast. “Come back to me, baby. No more overthinking.”

“It’s good thoughts this time,” you said, running your fingers through his ginger hair and scratching along his scalp as he soothed the mark with his tongue.

He looked up at you, a pleased smirk on his face. “Thinking about that soaking tub, huh?”

You pulled his hair, giggling at his antics while he moved further down your body. “Among other things—shit, Charlie,” you whined when his tongue dragged over the soaked gusset of your panties, scalding hot and firm.

He pulled them to the side, gliding his tongue through your slick folds and wrapping his lips around your clit, lashing it with the tip of his tongue. Pleasure coursed through you, your eyes rolling back in your skull as you cried out.

He hummed against you, moving back down to lap at your entrance with long, messy strokes. He was practically grinding his face against you, savoring you like you were the finest meal he'd ever had. He was so enraptured in pleasuring you that he was moaning right along with you, making your clit vibrate and walls flutter.

“Saints, I missed you,” he said, giving your clit and open mouthed kiss before sucking the sensitive bud between his teeth.

You couldn't even begin to formulate words, completely lost in his feasting, your body fizzing with delight and pleasure. It felt like you were high, your muscles languid, bones rubbery.

“Not thinking anymore, are we?” He teased, nipping at the soft skin of your inner thigh.

You whimpered and shook your head, raising your hips to chase after his mouth.

“Good girl.” he purred, rewarding you by latching back onto your clit, his middle finger easing inside your greedy channel.

You cried out, clenching around his finger as he pushed you closer to the edge, your listless haze making way for bright, desperate pleasure. You bucked your hips against his mouth, his tongue flattening against your clit as his inserted a second finger, stretching you. The sounds were damn near sinful, lewd and sloppy as he worked your pussy into submission, molding you like a sculptor with wet clay.

“Fuck, Charlie. M’gonna come,” you whined, tangling your fingers in his hair to keep him in that perfect spot.

He curled his fingers inside of you and your vision whited out, your orgasm ripping through you, body and soul. You screamed, spine arching off the bed as wave after wave of burning ecstasy rolled through you, his tongue and fingers not letting up for a second as you convulsed.

“That's it, honey. Just like that, let it all go,” he cooed, kitten-licking your clit as you started to come down, his fingers continuing to gently massage your spasming walls. “Try to relax, love. I know it's a lot, but just relax f’me. You're doing so well.”

You sank back into the mattress, breathing labored as he soothed your quivering pussy with gentle touches. “Charlie,” you moaned, your body finally settling and cycling from overstimulation to rebuilding pleasure. “Feels s’good.”

He nuzzled your clit, kissing over your slit, the top of your mound, your inner thighs. “I live to serve,” he said, withdrawing his fingers and sucking them clean. “And if I have to live my life in service to this perfect little cunt, so be it.” As if to punctuate his point, he laved his tongue through you again and you keened, nearly jumping away at the intensity.

You shook you head, tugging him up by the hair. “Need you to fuck me, Charlie. Please?”

He grinned, kissing his way back up your body until he caught your lips once more, the taste of you mixing with him in a way that pleased some possessive part of your brain. You deepened the kiss, licking into his mouth for more.

He pressed his body against yours, the weight of him warm and comforting as you savored one another. You trailed your hands over his back, feeling some of the ridges and scars stretched across the ropes of muscle. He guided one of your legs up over his hip, angling your bodies together like a puzzle piece.

You basked in the simmering kiss for a moment longer before need began to claw at your insides, your hips pressing up against his once more.

“Charlie, please,” you sighed into his mouth, dragging your nails down his back. “Don't make me beg.”

“But you sound so sweet, all breathy and desperate,” he cooed, pecking your lips a final time before moving off the bed. He slid your panties down your legs, tossing them aside with your other clothes, then removed his trousers and boxers, that gorgeous, rosy cock slapping up against his stomach.

He climbed back onto the bed and spread your thighs, kneading the flesh at your hip while he ran the rigid head of his cock through your drooling pussy.

“My sweet girl wants to get fucked, hm?” he said, his voice rough as he used his cock to massage your puffy clit. “Let me hear you ask one more time, honey. Sounds so pretty.”

“Please fuck me, baby. Please,” you whimpered, fisting the sheets on either side of you.

He notched his cock at your entrance, hissing through his teeth as your pussy opened effortlessly for him. “That's it, lovey. Fuck, your little pussy is so tight f’me,” he groaned as your walls clenched around him, coaxing him deeper. You could tell he was fighting the urge to bottom out in one thrust, the muscles in his arms and shoulders taught and trembling, chest heaving and jaw a little slack.

You reached for him, the feeling so intense you needed an anchor. He leaned forward, knowing what you craved, and let you wrap your arms around him and bury your face into his neck.

He rubbed soothing circles on your thigh, his other hand sliding around your back to hold you against him. “Too much, baby?” He asked, pausing his slow penetration.

“Too good,” you whimpered, digging your nails into his shoulders.

He nodded, loosing a breath as you clenched around him. “Feel like your squeezing my heart,” he groaned, and you could feel it racing just beneath his skin, frantic as yours.

“Keep going, Charlie. Please,” you begged, tilting your pelvis so he sank a little deeper.

He eased you back onto the bed, still holding you close. “Good girl, takin’ me so well. Just relax, honey. Just feel me,” he soothed as he pushed the rest of the way in, his cockhead nudging your cervix and stretching your walls just enough. Not sensing any discomfort from you, he started rolling his hips back and forth in fluid strokes, kissing your skin wherever he could reach.

Pleasure spread through your body like ink through water, coloring every sensation, every thought. You loosened your grip on him, opening yourself up to his unhurried affection as he fucked you slowly, letting you adjust to the onslaught of sensation.

“You're so pretty like this, so fucking perfect.” He mouthed at your throat, your head tilting back with a cry as he increased his pace, ecstasy dancing along your skin. “All mine to love on, yeah? You all mine, baby?”

You bobbed your head, already cockdrunk and blissed out, your body submitting completely to him. “Yes, fuck, yes. All yours,” you whimpered, that knot in your lower stomach starting to tighten.

“Fuck yes, my good girl.” He leaned down and caught your lips in a searing kiss, a growl rumbling through his chest as he fucked you harder, driving his cock in and out of your sopping cunt with powerful strokes. “And I'm yours, baby. All fucking yours.” He murmured against your mouth and you grinned, feeling your heart give a discordant thump of elation.

He leaned back to fuck you deeper, one hand tangling with both of yours and pining your arms over your head, the other sliding down to rub tight circles over your clit. You stretched out for him, arching your breasts up to his hungry gaze as he railed you, merciless and claiming.

“Saints, you look so fucking sexy. Gonna come for me, love? Mark this cock as yours?”

You let out a scream as a second orgasm was wrenched from your body, the tension unraveling all at once in a torrent of bliss. You clamped hard around him, feeling his cock swell, then buck as his own release crashed over him, your name coming out like roar.

You clung to one another, his hips still rolling into yours as your walls milked him dry, wringing every drop of pleasure from one another until you crashed back to earth as one.

After catching your breath for a moment, he lifted off of you, hands skimming over your face, your body. “Merlin, I’m sorry, baby. I really didn't mean to be that rough, are you okay? Did I hurt—”

You silenced him with a kiss, pulling his body back down onto yours. “Was perfect,” you mumbled against his lips and he smiled.

“You were perfect,” he corrected, pecking kisses all over your cheeks and forehead. “Can’t get enough of you.”

You giggled, squirming as his hands tickled along your sensitive skin.

“Can I take you for a real date tomorrow? I don't know if anything will be open, but I refuse to go another day without—”

“Charlie,” you shushed, cupping his bearded cheek. “You can take me to the kitchen and call it a first date. I don't care about some made-up fucking rules. I just want to be with you.”

He grinned, giving you a quick, toothy kiss. “Then how about I clean you up, make some mulled wine with this expensive shit I brought back from Romania, and we cuddle by the fire? Call that our first date, and next year we can celebrate our one year anniversary on Christmas.”

You pushed against his chest, laughing at his dramatics, but secretly hoping that would be the case. “It better be a hell of mulled wine then,” you teased.

“Oh, it will be. Romanians don't fuck around when it comes to their booze. Now, open those gorgeous legs for me.”

“Charles Septimus Weasley! Get up!” Ginny shouted through the door, banging her fist on the wood. “You cannot sleep in on Christmas!”

“Septimus?” You groaned, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

Charlie had his head buried in your neck, heavy limbs thrown over your body. He was warm as a furnace, and the still crackling fire didn't help matters.

“Sod off!” he barked back, nuzzling closer and tightening his hold around you. You glanced at the clock, and after your prolonged first date, you'd only gotten a few scant hours of sleep.

“Fine! Then I'll throw whatever's in this fancy little box in the fire!”

Charlie was up in a flash, tugging on pants and wrenching open the door, but Ginny was already gone.

He sighed, grabbed something from the hall, then swung the door shut. He looked ready to dive back into bed, but you were already up, pulling on a pair of his boxers.

He froze in place, a feral sort of glint in his eye, forgetting entirely about the package in his hands. When you went to grab it, he lifted it high above his head, well out of your reach.

“Charlie!” You pouted, trying in vain to pull his arm down. He still hadn't taken his eyes off of your body. “You really want me to make a bad impression on your parents for our first Christmas?” You snapped, fighting the smile rising on your face.

“Just do a little spin for me,” he said, twirling a finger around.

“Charlie!”

“Fine, fine. Here,” he chuckled, handing you a pair of pajamas with your name embroidered on them. They were red and green, with white stripes and gold thread, the material thick and warm.

You loved them already.

The two of you quickly got dressed and hurried downstairs, finding everyone else already piled into the living room, also dressed in matching pj's.

“Ah, the lovebirds finally make their appearance!” Bill teased from the big arm chair, Fleur cuddled into his side.

Charlie flipped him off, ignoring the squawk of disapproval form his mother.

“Come, come!” Molly grabbed you and plunked you down on the last free space on the couch, and George passed you a steaming mug of hot chocolate.

George leaned in and muttered, “It's no mulled wine, but—”

Charlie whacked the back of his head. “Quiet, you,” he warned.

“Charles, if I have to speak to you again!” Molly shouted.

“Alright, alright! Let's get this show on the road,” Arthur said, shooing his son away so they could distribute the clumsily wrapped boxes under the tree.

Charlie plopped onto the floor between your knees, his hands coming up to absently massage your right foot. Your whole body tingled at the contact, your heart still tight with joy.

Could this really be your life?

Arthur passed out gifts, and you ended up with a pile of three at your feet. A flat, rectangular box, a heavy, square box, and one small enough to fit in your hand, wrapped in green and gold ribbon.

They went around one by one, opening gifts. Charlie received a new pair of steel-toed boots, enchanted to prevent the Romanian cold from creeping in, and an expensive looking bottle of gin, courtesy of his big brother.

After him, it was finally your turn. Your heart thudded from the attention, and you started unwrapping the larger present with trembling fingers. You tore off the paper and opened the white box underneath it, finding a knitted sweater with your initial on the front. Your throat pinched shut, tears burning behind your eyes as you traced your fingers over it.

“You're part of the family now, love,” Molly said, smiling warmly at you as you wiped away a tear with the back of your hand.

“Thank you,” you sniffled, laughing at yourself, and Charlie gave your ankle a reassuring squeeze, pressing a kiss to your knee.

The next present was from Fred and George, a stack of books you'd been eyeballing the last time the three of you went to Flourish and Blotts, and you pulled them in for a group hug.

Finally, it came down to the last present. The tension pulled taut as a bowstring when Charlie turned towards you, propped up on one knee, presenting the small box.

“I know how this looks,” he murmured, glancing down at himself. “But I promise I'm not that insane.”

You giggled nervously, taking the present from his hand and trying to ignore that his entire family was watching you. You tried to focus on Charlie, the rise and fall of his shoulders, the lock of copper hair hanging over his brow, and blocked the others out.

Carefully, you undid the ribbon and tore off the paper, revealing a black, dragon-leather box. Charlie gave you an encouraging nod, noticing the way you hesitated, and you cracked open the lid.

Inside was a golden necklace with a Welsh Green dragon scale pendant sitting on a velvet cushion. It was the most stunning shade of emerald you'd ever seen, reflecting beautifully in the candlelight, shifting blue, then pearlescent, and back to green. It was breathtaking, and you fought back the tears gathering on your lower lashes so you could continue to gaze at it.

“Charlie, this is—” emotion stole your words, and all you could do was throw your arms around him and bury your face into his shoulder.

“I hope you love it, darling. Had it made just for you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Here, let me put it on you.”

You nodded, sitting up and trying to wipe your tears before his family could see what a mess you were, but when you looked around, you saw half of them crying too.

Molly blew you a kiss, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief, and you nearly lost it again.

Charlie gently took the box from your hands and walked around behind the couch. His cool fingers grazed the sides of your throat and the weight of the pendant settled against your clavicle. A moment later, your heard the clasp click, and felt the warm brush of his lips on the back on your neck.

You fondled the pendant with your fingers, the metal already warming against your heated skin, the scale heavy and smooth. Charlie came back around to the front, eyes lighting up at the sight of your smile.

“Merry Christmas, my love,” he hummed, wiping a tear from your cheek with his thumb.

You grabbed his collar and pulled him in for a kiss. “Merry Christmas, Charlie.”

Thank you so much for reading!! (and if you have anything you'd like to read for Charlie, my asks are open!)

[beloveds-embrace]

More poly!141 please and thank you my dear 🥰🤗

Anon is banished to the timeout corner to ponder on their grievances

That trope of roommates reader x poly 141…

Imagine you are Desperate with a capital D. Things aren’t lookinh bright for you, broke and stressed college student, right now in general, you need a new place quickly, and as it happens, you see an all-too-good offer while apartment searching on Craigslist. Rent is within your budget and god, the place looks really good, but…

You’ll have to share with four men. Four polyamorous men apparently, but still- men. More than one. That alone should’ve made you give up on it, not even think about considering it. It’s dangerous, incredibly so. No one within their right mind would agree to it, especially when you read that they are asking for someone who is willing to take up a good bulk of taking care of the place while they travel.

It’s clearly a scam. A front to a dangerous group.

But the apartment is even better when you actually, stupidly, agree to it. The (military, you learn soon enough) men so very handsome, helping you move in your stuff- the way Price commanded them actually made your knees tremble just a little, but you are not about to get between anyone’s relationship(s).

Moreover; you really like them. Soap is funny but he’s also the one who tries to stay up with you during your late exam studies. Keyword tries because he falls asleep anyways, head lolling on your shoulder only to end up getting carried by Ghost later.

Gaz is also funny, and he often forces you to go out when you hole up yourself for long lengths of time, get some fresh air on a walk that almost always leads to him treating you to coffee and sandwiches in the little corner bakery. Also the only one to share your love for horror movies so he’s your designated partner for whenever you wanna go to the cinemas.

Ghost and Price are your unofficial guard dogs. Grocery shopping? One or both of them tags along, carrying everything without letting you touch a single thing-

“What kind of man would let a lady carry groceries? I’m not weak, sweetheart. Let go of that bag, just see what else we’ll need.”

Ghost just stares straight down at you; no balaclava, but a black surgical mask and his hood drawn up. “Don’t even think about it.”

-and they are both bulky. They don’t even have to try to appear intimidating, everyone almost subconsciously makes way for them. Never in your entire life have you had easier shopping trips. And you’ve lost count of the amount of times you’ve stirred awake to find yourself carried to your bed after accidentally falling asleep on the couch.

They were not lying about the lengths of time they are gone, and you understand why they had put in that ad that landed you here in the first place. Once, they were away for months, and they have no contact with you. You always worry for them, regularly checking for any possible texts and sending them updates even when no reply comes.

(You have no ideaaa they have you saved as ‘lil missus’, ‘wifey’, ‘the madame’, ‘darlin’ in their phones. Or how much they cling to your texts even when they can’t reply yet. You don’t suspect shit, but the longer the mission drags on, the more resolved they are to just come home to you as soon as possible.

The second John checks his phone and sees your text about getting stood up on a date, his jaw clenches so tightly that Soap glances over, immediately concerned. The others quickly catch on, a tension settling over the group as he reads the message aloud.

Got stood up on that date lol

Guess its just me nd a frozen pizza tonight 🤷‍♀️ yes ik u hate frozen foods but ur not here sooo

If he wasn’t so incredibly angered by the thought of you going on a date that is not with them, getting stood up, he would have focused on your little disobedience. Would have thought of making you repeat why he hates having them in the flat while you sniffle and whine, the result of him taking his palm to your ass a few dozen times for doing this behind his back, but he can’t focus on that now.

“Let’s finish this and get home,” He hisses out at last, pocketing his phone. “Missus needs a reminder who she belongs to.”

All he gets, unsurprisingly, is approving nods.)

Back in the flat, you sneeze. How strange; you had just recently finished dusting, and everything should be clean.

It’s probably nothing.

a bit more