#always looking for new people interested!

[checkeredflagggs]

Scavenger Hunt

pairing: max verstappen x girlfriend!reader

summary: fans are baffled when they spot max verstappen running about Monaco on Valentine’s Day — what’s causing him such panic?

a/n: inspired by the upcoming baby verstappen and little Donut

a/n2: I know there’s a typo in one of the texts but I didn’t want to rewrite that so imagine there isn’t please

Masterlist | Taglist

Private Messages, Max and y/n

Bluesky

user1: it’s so early and on Valentine’s Day…are you guys thinking what I’m thinking?

↳user2: that he forgot to get y/n something and is now rushing around last minute?

↳user1: yup!

user3: it’s so fun to see celebrities act just like regular people

user4: just how early is it over there

↳user5: extremely. I honestly have no idea what he’s doing up right now

user6: early, rushing around, and he’s still kind enough to smile at people…

↳user7: I have no idea how people think he’s a villian

↳user8: right? He’s just a little pookie

Private Messages, Max and y/n

Private Messages, Lando and y/n

Bluesky

user9: another max spotting!

user10: he must have completely forgotten about Valentine’s Day…

user11: wild thoughts thrown into the universe but…are they even still dating??

↳user12: what??

↳user11: neither of them have posted anything about each other in months. By this point in winter break last year, there was like 100 photos of what they were doing and where they were going…

↳user12: omg don’t even say such thing again…

↳user13: ohhh you have a point. I don’t like it but you have a point…

user14: was he up at the crack of dawn or something??

↳user15: that’s what I was wondering…

user16: ok but where was he going in such a hurry??

↳user17: I saw him today! He was ducking into a local bakery and he came out empty handed about 2 minutes later

↳user16: he’s rushing about at the crack of dawn to go to bakeries???

Private Messages, Max and y/n

Private Messages, Charles (and Alex) and y/n

Private Messages, Max and y/n

Bluesky

user18: I saw him this time!

↳user19: well?

↳user18: another bakery and this time he came out with a bag from them. He was still in a rush

↳user19: interesting interesting 🤔

user20: he’s been spotted all over Monaco hasn’t he?

↳user21: At least 4 different locations now yes!

↳user20: have they all been bakeries?

↳user21: as far as we know yes

Private Messages, Max and y/n

Bluesky

user22: he looks so good!

↳user23: he always does… y/n is so lucky…

user24: was it another bakery?

↳user25: it was!

↳user19: hmmmm

user26: did he answer any questions while he was signing?

↳user27: he was chatting with us!

↳user28: did you get anything interesting from him?

↳user27: thankfully he’s still dating y/n — he was laughing because apparently she had ordered donuts from a bakery last night but forgot which one so he’s out and about trying to track them down

↳user28: awwww

↳user19: 📝📝📝

user19: I have a theory!

↳user29: is it completely crazy and out there?

↳user19: no! Well maybe! But I have some proof!

↳user29: oh no…

user19

liked by user, user, user, and 21,823 others

user19: I believe that y/n, Max Verstappen's girlfriend, is pregnant! Facts!

1 — these are the last photos she posted of herself before she went into a soft blackout (she’s only posted a couple of congratulations for Max and the McLaren boys near the end of the season). Those clothes and that pose? Classic for hiding pregnancy — and it even looks like she has a bump in that last one

2 — Max's store has a host of new baby items (cute af and I’ve already ordered some for my nieces and nephews). Why would he seemingly spontaneously start to carry baby stuff? Cause he’s got a kid on the way

3 — the last couple streams Max has done, he’s talked about legacy and the future. Not the strongest evidence but both Max and y/n have said in the past that they’d like to have a kid or 2 when they get more settled in their lives

4 — Max’s behavior today. Rushing all about various bakeries? That just screams pregnancy cravings — I bet that y/n sent him out to get something specific and he was trying to find it/them

In conclusion, y/n is pregnant and I think she’s pretty far along — and they’re trying to hide it

view all comments

user30: oh my god…

↳user31: baby verstappen incoming!

user32: holy shit…

↳user33: I don’t know what to say here

↳user32: I do! user19 you’re crazy

↳user19: just because I’m right doesn’t mean I’m crazy!!!

user34: I don’t think I’ve wanted anything to be more true in my life…

↳user35: big mood

user36: this is such a stretch but god do I want it to be true

Private Messages, Max and y/n

Private Messages, Lando and Charles and y/n

Private Messages, Max and y/n

maxverstappen1

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 2,913,923 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: our little family is growing — this is Donatello. Thank you yourusername for the wonderful Valentine’s Day surprise!

And baby Verstappen is coming Spring 2025

view all comments

user37: WHAT???

↳user38: it’s just like max to showcase his cats first…

↳user37: well baby Donatello came to the house before baby Verstappen liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1

yourusername: awww I’m glad you like little Donatello

↳yourusername: and that you didn’t mind me sending you all over the place this morning

↳user39: did you really send him on a goose chase today?

↳yourusername: well I had to get him out of the apartment somehow and pregnancy cravings are a good catch all 😂

↳maxverstappen1: schatje…

↳yourusername: you love me really

↳yourusername: and i had to come up with something when you heard me talking about Donut…

↳user39: awww is his nickname Donut?

↳yourusername: no

↳maxverstappen1: yes

↳charles_leclerc: yes 😊

↳yourusername: ugh

oscarpiastri: congrats on the new additions

↳yourusername: thanks Oscar!

charles_leclerc: you’re welcome for helping!

↳yourusername: thanks again Charles!

↳maxverstappen1: yes thank you

↳charles_leclerc: ☺️☺️

↳yourusername: oh yeah max he wants godfather liked by charles_leclerc

landonorris: and i don’t get any thanks for helping?

↳user40: threesome??

↳maxverstappen1: what

↳landonorris: no no no I helped hide the new cat

↳yourusername: ewww no. He hid some of the extra cat supplies for me in an effort to bag godfather

↳maxverstappen1: say goodbye to the potential godfather title

↳landonorris: FUCK

↳charles_leclerc: HA!

user19: I WAS RIGHT!! liked by user53

Taglist

@anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @coral7161 @lost4lyrics @mastermindbaby @freyathehuntress @angelluv16 @nichmeddar @mxm47max @Voidvannie @justaf1girl @a-beaverhausen @tallrock35 @elizamoe133 @imlonelydontsendhelp @jessica3478 @il0vereadingstuff

[indexthejester]

01: meh I think. Getting better I suppose.

02: My friend, we say it when ending calls

03: far too much. Sometimes it hits me like a bullet to the chest. Feels like the metal ball in my brain pinballs into a bumper that gives negative points.

04: no definitely not <- she lied

05: single and looking for friends which may turn into queerplatonic relations. Not that I'm crossing my fingers.

06: slowly and calmly enough to analyze the way it feels to die, but not too peacefully that it's otherwise uninteresting.

07: Zaxby's chicken strips

08: tried a few. Not my thing. Except tennis, I liked that one. Not sure if snowboarding counts but I like that too.

09: Yes I do it sucks.

10: never had one, unless wrestling counts

11: I like many people. I love them too. I suppose I have a crush on people that I relate too, especially if I find them interesting. I want to know every part of them intimately. To drink it all in.

12: yes

13: I don't think so, I try not to. I don't think it's very useful for solving my or the world's problems, and it makes me feel pretty miserable in the process.

14: probably somewhat, I'm pretty lonely most of the time so yeah almost always. I work and live better when I'm with someone I like. Whether talking or just present in the same "space".

15: 2 family dogs, one day I'll move out and get a cat probably. Cats are great.

16: chill, minus the usual slight heartburn. Just got our of the shower and am lying in bed, getting messages from a new friend, living well.

17: no, very out of left field question

18: not really. I find them interesting though. They either look like insects or weirdly mammalian despite being neither. Weird that scorpions are more closely related.

19: nah there's nothing for me back there.

20: god I wish

21: talk to a friend and life planning

22: no, I mean I'm good with them and it's very fulfilling I just find it stressful. Right now I have so much I want to do I can't see myself adopting and settling down but maybe idk.

23: 2 for earrings

24: Math and English I suppose. Programming too if college counts

25: Maybe. Not at the moment. In recent past, it was fun to hang out at the lgbtq center in college. Sucks that I'm stuck at home now.

26: more social interaction. I may be anxious about how I reply or generally talk through textual messaging, but it makes me feel all comfy inside :3 also sleep because it is 2:36am for me rn.

27: idk

28: no

29: never had one

30: eye strain and heart burn and social anxiety.

31: I think so. I don't think it's for me to say, I try to love myself at least, though it's really hard.

32: magenta, or some other combo of purple and red. Hence the Melantha pfp. Also she's autistic.

33: yes, very much so

34: can't remember. The last one I remember was very sexual which is unusual for me.

35: cried on a call with a friend of mine I think. Just scared of the state the world's in.

36: I don't know, I don't know if I've had to

37: depends on the person I guess. Sometimes you can't do either. Just gotta learn to live with what happened.

38: So far absolutely not. But in the past 4 days I've had a lot of fun being alive. It is fun to make new friends and connect with people and have fun.

39: excluding my parents it hasn't happened

40: yes

51: chicken alphredo and chicken cordon bleu

52: I don't believe in fate, but I do believe in causality, to an extent.

53: brush my teeth I think. Maybe watch a youtube video or masterbate, though I usually do the latter as I'm falling asleep so I'm not sure if it counts.

54: I'm sure you could invent some crazy scenario where it is, but in general I think betraying your partner's trust is just about the worst thing you can do in a relationship.

55: I try not to be.

56: 0

57: when I am vulnerable and comfortable, I am filled to bursting with love for the world and everything in it. So if "true" means "pure unfiltered" then maybe yeah. Me x The Universe. Me x All My Friends.

58: bright but not too bright, grey skies, no visavle sun, chill in the air. Can move around without sweating buckets.

59: YYYYYYYEEEEEEEEESSSSSSS

60: very much so someday. Already planning it out.

61: never had it happen to me though it seems pretty boring standard. Call me your owner, handler, mad scientist, something interesting.

62: a loving community and the ability to freely create art

63: yeah obviously

64: yeah I'm too old for that it's weird

65: what are we role-playing now? I don't know, depends on the context. (Treating "sex" as "gender" for these questions btw.)

66: no, I don't. I wouldn't call any of my friends men.

67: My father but I honestly wonder if he's not a little trans

68: like a really deep conversation? Uhh definitely @thatweirdyellowrat. Haven't felt that much mental clarity after a conversation in a long time. I would not be as happy or geared to make new friends if not for that.

69: Fuck no.

70: I think so yeah, more than one actually. Which is saying something because I value my life a lot.

70 horrible questions ... Fuck it

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? 02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? 03: Do you regret anything? 04: Are you insecure? 05: What is your relationship status? 06: How do you want to die? 07: What did you last eat? 08: Played any sports? 09: Do you bite your nails? 10: When was your last physical fight? 11: Do you like someone? 12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? 13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? 14: Do you miss someone? 15: Have any pets? 16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? 17: Ever made out in the bathroom? 18: Are you scared of spiders? 19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? 20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? 21: What are your plans for this weekend? 22: Do you want to have kids? How many? 23: Do you have piercings? How many? 24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? 25: Do you miss anyone from your past? 26: What are you craving right now? 27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? 28: Have you ever been cheated on? 29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? 30: What’s irritating you right now? 31: Does somebody love you? 32: What is your favourite color? 33: Do you have trust issues? 34: Who/what was your last dream about? 35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? 36: Do you give out second chances too easily? 37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? 38: Is this year the best year of your life? 39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? 40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? 51: Favourite food? 52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? 53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? 54: Is cheating ever okay? 55: Are you mean? 56: How many people have you fist fought? 57: Do you believe in true love? 58: Favourite weather? 59: Do you like the snow? 60: Do you wanna get married? 61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? 62: What makes you happy? 63: Would you change your name? 64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? 65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? 66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? 67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? 68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? 69: Do you believe in soulmates? 70: Is there anyone you would die for?

[enviedear]

stay, little valentine, stay ｡𖦹° jason todd

🎧ྀི your roommate makes the fateful mistake of passing you, his roommate, off as his girlfriend to his boundary ignorant family. now the both of you are tasked with maintaining a faux romance for the entirety of a dinner at wayne manor—simple enough, right?

wc 4.2k | roommate!jason, lowercase intended, fem!reader, brief mention of booze, cursing, mutual pining, two idiots fake dating…truly what more can i say (a lot, so). please, enjoy my 'funny little valentines' day special ᯓᡣ𐭩

“there’s not enough room in the freezer for the ice trays. either move your booze or enjoy an ice free apartment,” your voice is tinged with annoyance as you stare down your long-term roommate.

he’s laid back on the shared couch, right cushion side, staring back at you with a impish grin on his face, “or, you could finally throw out that cake you bought for your ‘promotion’ party. since, the fuckin’ promotion never happened and it takes up half of my freezer.”

“our freezer.” you add. “and fuck you, i could still get that promotion any day now. i can always unfreeze it—good as new.”

jason seems to be beginning to tune you out as your eyes drift to a new letter on the fridge, stuck on with an ‘i hate gotham’ magnet. the print is fancy, cursive, bold black ink—YOU’RE INVITED—it reads.

“what are we invited to?” you ask, ice tray debacle not at all at the forefront of your mind now. not when you can tell your roommate’s got an invite from his estranged past guardian, none other than bruce wayne.

he hums a reply at first, still zeroed in to the rerun of some prison show. when he finally picks up on your question he sours, visibly, “some idiotic anniversary dinner for dick and kori. we’re not going, you weren’t even invited.”

you pout, “i want to go! why can’t we go?”

jason’s got a stern look on his face now, and you’ve always found it so unnerving how quickly he musters it up—usually so relaxed in your shared domain.

“we’re not going because i told a lie, and if we show up…everyone will know.” he groans, “just drop it, i need a little more time to ride this out.”

suddenly more intrigued, you prance over to him on the couch, flopping down beside him, “a lie?”

“don’t. just drop it.” he huffs at the obvious annoyance on your face, “it’s just stupid.”

“c’mon, we know all of each others ‘stupid’ shit. what was the lie, todd?” you’re being genuine, riddling your appeasement with a sweetly sardonic tone.

finally, after a good minute of staring at a very completive jason, he cracks, “i might have alluded to being in a relationship with you.”

your smile cracks before he even finishes his admission, oscillating between confusion and sheer giddiness—trying to halt the part of your brain that wants to imagine a life where a relationship isn’t such a laughable idea.

you curl your lips to stifle your last giggles before looking back up at him, “why?”

jason shifts in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with the question. his eyes dart away from yours, finding sudden interest in the television screen, "bruce kept...asking about my life here. if i was settling in, if i was happy." he runs a hand through his dark hair, "and then, all the others got involved, asking to set me up with people. i needed them to stop asking. and you-" he pauses, scratching the back of his neck, "you were the most believable option.”

you stare at him, unblinking, trying to process his words. "most believable option…” you repeat slowly, testing how the phrase feels on your tongue. a warmth spreads across your chest-whether from flattery or something else entirely, you're not quite sure. "so, what? think i can’t pretend to be your girlfriend for a dinner?" the idea sends an unwelcome flutter through your chest. you curse yourself.

jason's expression shifts, a mix of surprise and something else you can't quite read. "you'd do that?" he asks, his voice carrying an unusual note of vulnerability.

"of course," you reply, trying to keep your tone light and casual. "what are roommates for? plus, free fancy dinner at wayne manor? count me in." you're aiming for nonchalance, but your heart is racing at the prospect.

jason's jaw clenches, a tell-tale sign of him thinking too hard, "it's not that simple. they'll know it's fake. bruce especially—dick and tim too—they’re too observant for their own good.”

"oh please," you wave off his concern, settling deeper into the couch cushions, "we've lived together for what, two years now? we already act like an old married couple anyway. i know your coffee order, you know my work schedule. we share groceries, we fight about ice trays—“ you gesture broadly to the kitchen, "it's practically method acting at this point."

he looks at you then, really looks at you, with an expression you can't quite read. "you'd really do that? pretend to be with me in front of my entire family?"

"of course i would," you say softly, nudging his shoulder with yours. "what are friends for if not to fake date each other to avoid awkward family dinners?" you try to keep your tone light, ignoring the way your stomach flips when he smiles at you that rare, genuine smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners.

"fine." he finally concedes, shrugging his shoulders, "but we need to get our story straight. no holes, no gaps—i figured we'd keep it close to the truth. roommates who gradually realized there was something more." he pauses, then adds, "the best lies are built on truth or some shit, right?”

you nod, and start crafting the imagined romance with jason. over the next hour, you both piece together your relationship timeline—how you first bonded over late night takeout after his patrols, the way you'd patch him up after particularly rough nights, and how somewhere between shared grocery runs and movie marathons, faux you fell for him. or him for you—the both of you can't agree on that just yet.

you try not to focus on how easy it is to imagine, how some of these made-up memories feel more like documentation rather than fabrication.

"okay, and when did we actually get together?" you ask, pulling your knees up to your chest, trying to ignore how invested you're becoming in this alternate reality.

"three months ago." jason answers quickly, too quickly, like he's already thought about this. "after that night I came home really beaten up, remember? you were so pissed at me for being reckless."

you remember that night vividly—how he ever thinks you could forget, you’re unsure.

him stumbling through the window at three in the morning, blood seeping through his stupid jacket. how your hands shook as you stitched him up, how quiet he was, how close his blanched face was to yours. you’d attributed the racing of your heart to fear, but now…not so much.

"yeah," you say softly. "that works."

the rest of the week flies by in a blur of preparation and anxiety, until suddenly it's the night of the dinner, and you're standing in front of your mirror, wondering if you've made a terrible mistake.

you're wearing a deep red-toned dress that hits just above your knee—something you'd bought on a whim (a fifty percent off sale) months ago and never found the right occasion for. jason had given it an approving nod when you'd shown him, which somehow makes you feel more nervous than reassured as you stare yourself down.

"ready?" jason's voice comes from behind you, and you turn to find him adjusting his tie in the hallway mirror. he looks…different. good different. the suit fits him perfectly, and you wonder briefly if alfred had something to do with that. the older man has a penchant for doting over your overgrown battling ram of a roommate.

"as i'll ever be." you manage, trying to keep your voice steady. "but, um, how convincing do you think we need to be?"

jason's eyes meet yours in the mirror, "enough to fool the world's greatest detective," he sighs, "and his army of protégés." he turns to face you properly, and something in his expression softens, but he looks away too quickly for you to discern, "you look really pretty."

"thanks." you mumble, fiddling with your clutch. "so do you. very…boyfriend."

he laughs, but it sounds slightly strained. "that's the idea, isn't it?" he offers his arm to you, "shall we?"

the drive to wayne manor is muted. jason's knuckles are white on the shifter, and you find yourself reaching over to place your hand over his without thinking. he startles slightly, but he doesn't pull away—even keeps contact as he switches gears.

"hey." you start softly, "we've got this. we know each other better than anyone, we live together. besides, what's the worst that could happen?"

jason sighs, his hand tightening slightly under yours. "you clearly don’t know how bruce and tim get at these things. anniversary or not, they'll smell blood in the water if we slip up."

"relax," you assure him, glancing out at the looming trees lining the driveway. "i doubt they’ll care about your relationship timeline when they’re busy fawning over how happy dick and kori are."

jason shoots you a look that clearly says 'don't tempt fate', but his grip on the wheel loosens slightly. "just…follow my lead. and if it gets too weird, we can always fake a medical emergency."

"that...is always an option." you grin, trying to ignore the way your stomach flips when he smiles back.

the manor looms up ahead, and as jason pulls up to the gate, you feel his hand squeeze yours briefly, almost indecipherable.

"last chance to back out." he murmurs.

you intertwine your fingers with his, ignoring the voice in your head that whispers how right it feels. "not a chance, todd. you're stuck with me."

the gates open, and as you drive up the winding driveway, you're unable to shake the feeling that you're about to cross a line you can't come back from. but with jason's hand so warm and relaxed in yours, you're not sure you want to.

jason parks the car in front of the house at the partition, "in case we need a quick exit." he shrugs.

"i think you're too worried, jason. i doubt they'll even question it. you said they wanted you dating anyway, i bet they'll just be happy." your voice is quiet, hand hovering in front of the doorbell.

he sighs, "you don't know these people, they question everything."

before you can reply or try to alleviate his doubts, the double doors fly open. you grab jason's hand in your own and pull him closer, just as alfred sets eyes on the pair of you.

alfred's eyes visibly brighten at the sight of both of you, his normally reserved expression softening into something fonder, "master jason," he greets, a ghost of a smile on his lips, "and miss, how lovely for you to be joining tonight. everyone is very excited to meet you, i fear my few stories were not enough to quell them."

you smile, a real genuine one too, "it's nice to see you again alfred! i hope we're not too late—jason decided to change his tie last minute."

alfred hums and beckons you both inside, "fashionable tardiness, miss. i assure you."

jason, hand now sweaty in yours, chuckles, "he's being nice since you're with me. he's usually irate by my lateness."

you shoot jason a pointed look as alfred continues. "master richard and miss kori have been eagerly awaiting your arrival. their anniversary dinner is a rare occasion they’ve pulled out all the stops for, you see."

jason grumbles something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like, overachievers.

the sound of multiple voices echos through from a room, and you feel jason's grip tighten slightly. you've heard stories about his family for years now—mostly complaints, occasionally fond remembrances, and everything in between during late night conversations over takeout.

"master bruce insisted on formal dining tonight." alfred mentions, though his tone suggests mild disapproval. you've learned over your visits that alfred much prefers when the family dines in the kitchen.

jason scoffs quietly, "because god forbid we eat somewhere comfortable." you squeeze his hand again, a silent reminder of your emergency exit strategy. two years of living together has given you an extensive library of non-verbal communications.

the dining room, when you enter, is exactly as alfred has described it countless times—grandiose in a way that speaks to old money and older traditions. the table stretches long and elegant, set with what you recognize as the ‘good china’ alfred often mentions.

your muscles tense slightly as you finally notice all of the eyes on you—staring and studying—you have to think before you step.

bruce wayne rises first, and despite all of jason's stories, despite seeing him on tv and in newspapers, you're struck by his presence. "jason." he greets, then turns his attention to you. "we've all heard quite a bit about you from alfred, though significantly less from my son."

you feel jason's posture stiffen, but you're prepared for this. "oh, you know how jason is with sharing things." you say easily, the words flowing naturally after years of defending his privacy to nosy neighbors and concerned coworkers. "though, alfred's probably told you all my embarrassing stories by now."

dick grayson—exactly as handsome as the magazines suggest—breaks into a wide grin. "actually, alfred's been surprisingly tight lipped. just kept saying we should ask jason ourselves." his eyes sparkle with mischief. "which, of course, got us nowhere."

"some things don't need to be broadcast to the whole family." jason grumbles, but his thumb is mindlessly drawing small circles on your hand, a gesture you've learned means he's more comfortable than he's letting on. 

"oh, but this is so wonderful!" a melodic, cheerful voice chimes in, and you glance up to see koriand’r—kori to most—seated beside dick, her vibrant curly red hair catching the light as she smiles radiantly. "you must forgive us for prying, but jason does not often share such…delightful surprises."

"by 'us,' she means her." dick cuts in with a smirk, earning a playful nudge from kori.

"yes, and what of it?" she replies lightly, turning her attention fully to you. "you see, jason is like a tamaranian grisnek—so fierce and protective on the outside, but underneath, he is all kindness and loyalty. how could we not be curious about the person who has captured his heart?"

"great. glad we're all analyzing my personal life at the dinner table." jason mutters, though his hand stays on yours, his grip steady.

"do not be fooled," kori says in a whisper that is anything but subtle, her green eyes sparkling with mischief. "jason pretends to be irritated, but inside, i know he is glowing with happiness."

your lips twitch into a smile despite yourself, and jason sighs heavily, his shoulders sagging with mock defeat. "i think i'm gonna need another drink."

kori leans back, laughing softly, the sound warm and lilting, as she looks between you and jason once more. "you are lovely." she adds sincerely, her tone softening. "and jason could not have chosen better."

tim drake, who you've only seen in passing when he's stopped by your apartment to drop off miscellaneous ‘private’ documents, raises an eyebrow. "yes, it's all very sweet." he hums it almost, tone carefully neutral but eyes sharp, studying you.

"sweet indeed." you agree, letting some of your genuine fondness for jason color your voice. it's not hard to fake being in love with someone when you've spent two years memorizing their coffee order, patching up their wounds, and falling asleep on their shoulder during movie marathons. the hard part, you're starting to realize, might be pretending it's all pretend.

bruce barely looks up from his plate as he speaks again, cutting through your blissful thoughts of jason, “a shame i wasn’t aware you two were involved.”

jason tenses beside you, the muscle in his jaw ticking. “yeah, well. guess you don’t know everything, old man.”

bruce sets his fork down with deliberate slowness. his gaze flicks between the two of you, assessing, “i never said i did.” his voice is even, unreadable. “but you don’t bring people around often. that’s worth noting.”

jason scoffs, like he couldn’t care less, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—annoyance, unease, probably both.

jason’s hand finds yours under the table. it’s definitely not a calculated move, not a necessary nor obvious display for the act you’re putting on. it’s just—there. warm and solid, his fingers curling around yours like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

you don’t let go.

dinner progresses with a strange mix of tension and ease. You find yourself falling into natural conversation with dick about your work, while jason maintains a careful distance from bruce's attempts at engagement. still, his hand hasn't left yours, and you're starting to wonder if he's forgotten it's all for show.

"so—how did you two finally get together?" dick asks, leaning forward with genuine interest.

you exchange a quick glance with jason, settling into the story you've rehearsed. "it wasn't really some big dramatic moment," you say, the lie feeling uncomfortably close to the truth. "we just...realized we work."

jason picks up the thread smoothly, his thumb still tracing patterns on your hand. "she was patching me up after a rough night, mad at me for being so bruised," he says, and you can hear the genuine emotion in his voice. "and i just...i dont know—knew, i guess."

tim's watching you both with analytical eyes, and you wonder if he can see through the charade. "that tracks." he says finally. "you two have always been...close."

"speaking of close," dick interjects with a grin, "i think it's hilarious jason used to insist you were 'just roommates', and yet never went on any of the dates i set him up on. i should have known, really." there's a pout on his face, humourous.

you laugh, perhaps a bit too nervously, "well, we were. for a while." the irony of the statement isn't lost on you. you can see jason watching you from your peripheral, face stoic—but his eyes are soft. the way they watch over you, simply affectionate.

bruce, who's been quietly observing, finally speaks. "i'm glad jason has someone looking out for him," he says, and there's something in his tone that makes your heart ache. "he's always been...independent."

jason's grip on your hand tightens almost imperceptibly. "yeah, well, some things change." he mutters, but there's less bite in his words than usual.

the conversation shifts to safer topics—work, current events, alfred's latest culinary experiments. you find yourself relaxing despite the pretense, falling into familiar patterns of banter with jason, finishing his sentences, and sharing knowing looks.

it's during dessert that damian, who's been suspiciously quiet, finally speaks up. "you're good for him," he declares with all the authority of a youngest sibling. "he's less annoying when you're around."

jason chokes on his tiramisu, and you pat his back automatically, the gesture so natural you don't even think about it. "thanks, damian!" you say, fighting back a smile. "i think."

as the evening winds down and dinner ends, you find yourself in the manor's vast library, having wandered away from the group for a moment of quiet. besides, you feel somewhat redundant against their coded phrases and stories. jason finds you, as he always does.

"hey." he speaks softly, coming to stand beside you. "you doing okay?"

you turn to face him, suddenly very aware of how close he is. "yeah, i'm good. your family's...intense, but nice. just like you said."

he laughs quietly, but there's something different in his eyes. "you're amazing, you know that? playing along with all this. you didn't have to."

"i wanted to." you admit, and it feels dangerous how true those words are. "besides, what are fake girlfriends for?"

jason's looking at you with an expression you can't quite read, and for a moment, you think he might say something more. but then dick's voice calls from somewhere far off in the house and the moment gaps.

"we should head back." jason says, but he doesn't move. "before they send a search party."

you nod, trying to ignore the way your heart is racing. "yeah, we should."

but neither of you moves, caught in this strange liminal space where pretend and reality blur, and you're no longer sure which is which. even less sure if you hunger for dreams or waking existence—which is which? for a split second, you want to reach out. you desperately want to feel him—to possibly transfer the devotion you’re still too afraid to admit you harbor.

jason’s breath is staggered, coming out forced and shallow. his eyes, darker in the dim light, are flitting between you and the door—until he focuses in on you, fully. you’re too confused as to why he’s getting closer to you to react accordingly when his lips brush yours.

your first instinct is to furrow your brows, still confused. then, you kiss back. hungrily. confusion still fogs your mind, but nowhere near the way jason does. his lips are chapped, plump, and still tasting faintly of expensive dark liquor. his body cages you close him, hands respectfully at your shoulders. of course the only thing you can recognize is jason.

you err on the side respectfulness—opting to tug him closer by the tie. there’s a flash of the memory of him putting it on, and you can’t fight a small smirk from slipping onto your lips. jason must notice, because he finally breaks away to peer down at you.

“what?” he whispers, panting and staring down at your lips.

“what do you mean, what? we kissed.” you still feel giddy from his kiss, but reality begins to settle into you like a winter chill.

jason watches you closely, his expression a mix of smugness and unease, “hmmm—playing it dangerous.” he finally murmurs, shaking his head.

you arch a brow, feigning derision. “you say that to all the girls, todd?”

he exhales a laugh, raking a hand through his hair. “yeah,” he huffs. “that grand number of...you.”

before you can say anything, footsteps echo just outside the library's door. jason instinctively steps back, widening the space between you just as dick pokes his head in. “there you two are! we were about to send out a search party.”

you smile, pushing down the lingering tension. “sorry. just taking a little tour.”

dick’s gaze flickers between you and jason, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “right. well, come on. we're playing charades—and bruce is actually smiling. you don’t want to miss that.”

jason groans, but he follows you and dick back back toward the others. his hand brushes against yours in the hallway, and for a second, you think he’s going to take it again. but he doesn’t. 

charades is winding down by the time you return, alfred putting away various dry erase boards and markers with the kind of efficiency only a butler can possesses.

kori beams when she sees you, reaching out to squeeze your hand. “lovebrids! you have returned!" she gestures to herself and grayson, "thank you for coming—we would like to extend our support to your relationship.”

jason lets out a little breath, like he wasn’t expecting that—like he isn’t sure what to do with the sincerity. “thanks, kori.”

bruce, too, seems slightly less intimidating now. “thank you for coming—you’re welcome here anytime, both of you.” he tells you, and it sounds like a rare offering.

something about it all settles in your chest, warm and unexpected. you’ve spent so much time being jason’s person in private—patching him up, watching his back, making sure he gets home in one piece—that it’s almost startling to have it acknowledged in front of everyone else.

goodnights and goodbyes come soon after, and tim catches jason by the elbow before the pair of you can walk out the door, pulling him aside for a hushed conversation. you linger near the doorway, talking with kori and dick, but you can’t help the way your attention keeps flickering back to jason.

when he finally returns to your side, his expression is unreadable. “ready to go?”

you nod, murmuring your goodbyes as you both step back into the night air. jason doesn’t say anything as he leads you back to the car, but his hands flex at his sides.

the drive back is quieter than before, the easy banter from earlier replaced with something heavier, something neither of you seems willing to touch just yet. jason’s grip is tight on the wheel, his jaw set, eyes fixed on the road.

it isn’t until you’re pulling into the familiar streets near your apartment that he finally speaks. “they bought it.”

you huff a quiet laugh. “yeah? i told you so.”

jason’s eyes flick to you for a fraction of a second before he exhales. “thank you, seriously. you were great.”

you glance at him, something warm curling in your chest. “we just make a good team.”

something glints in his expression, something hesitant, something aching. “yeah,” he agrees, voice quieter. “we do.”

the silence stretches between you as he parks the car. you unbuckle your seatbelt, but neither of you make a move to get out. stuck stagnant.

“so, this is was fake...” you murmur, more to yourself than to him.

jason’s fingers drum against the steering wheel, knuckles red. “yeah.”

you should leave it at that. you should forget the kiss. you should revert back to just his roommate. you should laugh it off, make some joke about how convincing you both were—but you don't—instead you say, “does it still feel fake to you? us...tonight?”

jason’s breath catches. for a long moment, he doesn’t answer. you almost let doubt seep in.

then, he turns, his eyes dark and searching. “god, no.”

your heart stutters in your chest, and you swallow hard, pulse roaring in your ears. “good. me neither.”

for a second, he just looks at you, like he’s waiting for you to take it back, to laugh it off. but you don’t, you won't. and when he leans in—slow, hesitant, like he’s giving you every chance to pull away—you don’t.

you decide to meet him halfway, instead.

writer’s note .☘︎ ݁˖ all of my thanks to the helpful, @sunnie-angel for being my beta reader for this fic! thank you again for your services—and your sweet comments on this little story, very very happy to have a moot like you !!!

🖇️ masterlist | askbox | recent works

[mrrharper]

Strings Attached

You thought it would be that easy, eh? That everything would go smoothly? Damn, what a fuckin' dumbass, huhuhuh. Dude, please.

You bought that weird jock serum. The website promised instant change and total life improvement, bro! Thought it would help you lose that "loser status", so ya sunk like 200 of your hard earned bucks into the thing. It came in a boring-ass package, tasted like dirty socks and had you feeling like you were about to throw up for the rest of the day.

But then you woke up the next day and it seemed to have worked. Your basic twink body turned into a that of a cocky bro. Broad shoulders and chest, beefy arms, sculpted legs, a sharper jaw, visible abs (dude, did ya really get hard after seeing these in the mirror?), as well as styled hair and a barely visible stubble. Damn, you looked like a real jock, bro.

You were ecstatic. So excited about all that newly acquired beef, like a kid right after Christmas. You now had to learn how to put up a good show. You got a bunch of workout clothes, tried to learn how to walk like a cocky bro, you even signed up for a gym membership. Which seemed to work.

You got interested looks from people on campus. Others wanted to work with you on projects during class. And most importantly, jocks, bros and other cool dudes started approaching you. They wanted you - the new muscular guy in town - to be a part of their group. It felt like a dream come true.

Oh, how dumb you were. You assumed the physical changes were all the serum would deliver. It would beef you up a bunch, and then the rest of it would be on you, learning how to live a life of a college jock while still being the same guy you were a few days prior, the same socially inept gay loser. But oh boy, does it not work that way.

Guys like you are the funniest to watch. The transformation is so entertaining in the end.

Like a week after drinking the serum the rest of its effects caught up with you. When you woke up, the introverted twink was no longer with us. In his place was an generic arrogant douchebag, whose mind could only focus on a select few topics - his next workout, his next game with his brahs, getting newer gym gear, giving his arms a big ol' flex whenever he could and always looking for a hole to stick his leaking cock into. The mental side was now fully in line with the physical.

Cause we can't have a muscular jock who isn't a cocky and aggressive pussyhound, can we? Of course we can't, that's why the serum works like that. Dumbass. Now go lift some dumbbells or something bro. That's what you're here for, after all.

[burreauxsss]

the greatest

background: y/n a former lsu volleyball player and joe get caught up together as a couple. which leads to y/n getting alot of hate.

(all pics from pinterest. as always, pretend this is joe and y/n)

notes: had to pause midway through this because a tornado warning with the sirens decided to make themselves known, im fine though 🤨

a tad bit angsty?? also not proofread??? dates are messed up on tweets???

joe burrow x reader

joeyb_9

❤️ 870,143 💬 62,939

liked by: y/n_handle lahjay_10 and others

joeyb_9: CPOY.

lahjay_10: shiestyyy!

y/n_handle: well deserved.

username_5: joe how'd you pull that girl 🤨

username_6: you couldve chose anyone else but y/n. shes lowkey not attractive.

username_7: hes so fine omg.

*load more comments*

y/n_handle

❤️ 98,000 💬 9,710

liked by: yourbsf joeyb_9 and others

y/n_handle: we had a time last night.

yourbsf: hungover as we speak because after the pic.

username_8: pretty girls 💗

username_9: your bsf is so pretty.

username_10: the nda must be signed because no way.

*load more comments*

y/n_handle posted a story

caption: late night 🌕 in new orleans

y/n_handle

❤️ 103,900 💬 32,910

liked by: joeyb_9 and others

y/n_handle: flashback to last home game at paycor...

username_11: it cant be...

username_12: do we not remember how she was one of the girls he hooked up with at lsu?

username_13: chasing the bag??

username_14: shes so pretty what are yall on

username_15: she makes hella money for that apartment in downtown cincy

*load more comments*

joeyb_9

❤️ 531,349 💬 61,079

liked by: y/n_handle and others

joeyb_9: offseason. username_16: whos with him

username_17: y/n is so pretty

username_18: 2026 mvp shiesty?

username_19: playoffs next year!

*load more comments*

y/n_handle

❤️ 74,392 💬 2,293

liked by: yourbsf and others

y/n_handle: sugar coated, lies unfolded.

yourbsf: outside looks interesting

username_20: the skyview?

username_21: the sillohette???

username_22: being one of joe's h0es is insane work y/n_handle: you know whats crazy? i was in college at the time, i had no common sense so yes me hooking up with one person is normal in college.

username_23: she clocked hard!!

joeyb_9: so proud of you

username_24: cleared.

*load more comments*

joeyb_9 posted a story

caption: most beautiful girl ever to the right.

duexmoi

❤️ 931,293 💬 120,000

liked by: tmz and others

duexmoi: Cincinnati Bengals quarterback Joe Burrow speaks out about his estranged girlfriend Y/N Y/LN who recieved negative comments on being related to him back in college.

Burrow states "Ive seen numerous reports from reporters and many people on social media talking about y/n's past. The past is the past and shes doing great in the present as a loyal and supportive girlfriend. Lets move on please."

This follows after y/n was hooking up with the qb back in college.

username_25: yall are so obsessed.

username_26: both cleared!

username_27: w quarterback for defending his girl like that.

username_28: on a serious note, joe i wasnt familiar with your game. we've all been trying to pull her since LSU.

username_29: can we find jobs guys. no reason why he shouldve came out like that and said that.

username_30: shes so pretty why is everyone hating.

*load more comments*

y/n_handle posted a story

caption: thank you for the bracelets joeyb_9 💋

note: honestly i dunno how to write angst in a smau so if you liked it, thank you.

(and yes im okay)

[no-blastbeat-no-applause]

A little while ago I wrote a little something about that. I just finished translating it into english. Here are my thoughts:

Wimp

Thoughts on the patriarchy and why this crap sucks for men too

Queen Energy

I mindlessly let Instagram videos wash over my mind. A sketch wakes me from my pleasant torpor:

A woman dressed in a negligee talks to her husband. She orders him to have sex with her immediately. He says he is tired, he has just come home from work. He doesn't feel like it either. She is not interested. She becomes more direct and aggressive in her statements and demands. All of this culminates in her forcibly shoving a cookie into his mouth, repeating her order and expectantly marching off towards the bedroom.

The comment column is rolling with laughter, congratulates the woman and agrees with her demands. The comments reads something like:

"Her story, her rules, her empire." "Queen energy! This is the vibe we all need!" "Taking what's hers like it was always meant to be"

She should take what she needs; her husband should be a real guy and get it for his wife if and when she wants it.

So the point is: he's a wimp if he doesn't put himself and his needs first. He's not a real man because he doesn't jump when his wife is in the mood.

Let's imagine the gender roles reversed. A man comes home and tells his wife to wait for him naked in the bedroom because he wants to have sex. Regardless of her wishes and desires. Most people would find this behavior unacceptable. And rightly so.

Here though, sexual harassment is portrayed as a joke. Neither the producers nor the recipients seem to be fazed by this.

Such scenes suggest that men always have to be ready and willing. This stereotypical expectation completely ignores the fact that men are also people with boundaries who want to say "yes" or "no". However, in our society - as the comments column impressively shows - they are often denied this choice. Men are not even given the opportunity to prioritize their own wishes because their "yes" is taken for granted. If they do try to set boundaries, they are met with a lack of understanding, rejection, ridicule or even violence. This creates a burden that is subtle but always present.

The video and its comments make fun of a man whose freedom of choice over his own body has been taken away, making him yet another victim of patriarchy and toxic masculinity.

First naked and then alone in the corridor

I was 12 when my mother drove me and my ten-year-old sister to our pediatrician. Everything started as business as usual. The doctor asked us general questions, she took our blood pressure and did what doctors do.

Then something happened that I still remember vividly today. As a burgeoning teenager, I had to get naked from the wais down and lie down on a couch to be examined. My mother and sister both stayed in the room. I was embarrassed. I found it downright agonizing.

The doctor plucked at my penis for several minutes. I didn't know where to look. My face turned bright red and my hands got wet. I was suddenly terribly aware of how my kneecaps felt under my skin.

Then it was finally over.

But now it became particularly irritating: it was my sister's turn. She was facing something similar - with one important difference. I was asked to leave.

Don't get me wrong, I had no interest in participating in my sister's gynecological exam. I just wished that the same consideration had been given to me, a little boy.

My feelings were not ignored, no. No one here had even bothered to take an interest in whether I had any. I was treated with the same respect as the couch in the treatment room. The question of my dignity was about as important as that of the desk.

But that was nothing new for a 12-year-old. After all, I learned to swallow my feelings before I even started elementary school.

"Are you a man or a mouse"?

Of course I'm a man, I'm already four! I suppress every feeling that my environment deems too much or inappropriate.

I've learned that „Indians don't cry.“* Neither do boys. I'm not supposed to make such a fuss and pull myself together.

It eats into your brain. It stays. For almost 40 years and it's still there.

How my tongue got bitten

My aunt was celebrating her sixtieth birthday. The whole thing ended in her favorite pub. We danced, sang, drank and enjoyed ourselves. I chatted with old acquaintances on the edge of the dance floor.

Suddenly, a woman snuck up on me. She started to dance at me aggressively. I found it quite flattering at first. The stranger danced very closely with me, focusing only on me. She made me feel wanted.

But after a while I became uncomfortable. She took it for granted that I would return her advances. She waited for me in front of the toilet. She gave me no opportunity to move without her. She put her arms around me and kissed me on the dance floor.

I didn't want to be seen like this by my family. It was impossible to talk to my friends, my aunt was at the other end of the pub. I told the stranger that I wanted to talk to my family, but she wouldn't let go of me. I spoke to friends, but she pushed her way in.

I could have said "No!" at any time, walked away and enjoyed my evening, sure. But I have internalized the lessons of my youth: my feelings are not important and I have to make my body available, regardless of my own wishes.

I only plucked up the courage to tear myself away when the stranger bit my tongue painfully, because: I didn't kiss her the way she wanted me to.

But even then, at the end of the night, my "No, I don't want that anymore" was met with a complete lack of understanding. She was offended that I was not responding to her wishes. She had never cared about my consensus or my needs.

I was now in a similar role to the man in the sketch: my feelings were put on the back burner in order to offer a woman what she wanted at that moment.

Neither the lady in the sketch nor the stranger at the pub inquired about the wishes of the men in question. None of them asked for consensus. None of them took what they were explicitly told seriously, because they, like all of us, have internalized these toxic patterns of thought and behaviour.

As a farewell, I got a contemptuous "wimp" shouted after me.

And why all this?

I am well aware that the people who suffer most from patriarchy are, of course, those who do not appear traditionally male to society. Women, intersex and trans people, all non-cis-hetero men, should by no means be ignored here. My perspective, however, is that of a cis-het man.

We men are taught that our feelings are not important. We have to be tough and endure instead of being vulnerable and talking openly about our needs. Our bodies are common property. We learn to accept assault and laugh it off.

• The woman in the negligee wants sex? Then go ahead! No matter what the man wants.

• The boy is ashamed to be looked at naked by three women? He shouldn't behave like that!

• A stranger decides you're her plaything this night? Fuck your wishes and your family!

If we don't conform to the norms, we are wimps. We are considered unmanly. We're not real guys.

We need to recognize the harmful influence of sexism on men.

While patriarchy generally privileges men, it also subjects us to restrictive gender roles that harm us.

Even those who are considered the most powerful in the patriarchal hierarchy suffer from it.

The supposed masters turn themselves into the oppressed.

Toxic masculinity harms us and everyone around us.

Sometimes I do wonder if men actually get sexually assaulted and abused at a similar rate that women do but a lot of them just don’t know that’s what’s happening to them

[thanosscross]

Your Man - Choi Seung Hyun/T.O.P X Race Car Driver! Reader

Summary: After Y/n L/n starts to rise to fame with her new racing career, she ends up in contact with an older celebrity, Seung Hyun, leading to one of the best things to ever happen to you, even if he was a little older.

Warnings: The highly requested, age gap story, lovelies! Reader is 23-24 and Seung Hyun is 36-37, so quite a gap, but everybody is of legal age! <3 other than that, I feel like it's mainly just fluff and angst with a hint of plot, so please enjoy lovelies <3

Whenever you entered your early twenties, you had high hopes, you had just graduated college, and your training to finally go on the race tracks for your agency. You knew from a very young age who you wanted to be, a race car driver, and you stuck with that idea throughout your childhood and teen years, until you finally made your idea a reality, becoming one of the newest drivers in this year of races.

Along with new found fame with your profession, you also came into contact with a lot of different famous people, people you felt were a lot more famous than you, but nonetheless they were still fans of yours. Including one person who ended up gaining your interest and almost all of your attention at first, Choi Seung Hyun, an older retired Idol, and actor. You didn't care that he was older, a lot older than you, he was sweet, and you both clicked together immediately, always talking in your free time, showing your new friend all your new car adjustments, seeing all of the artwork he had made or purchased, or just talking about upcoming events for you both. It didn't take very long for you both to develop feelings for each other, Seung Hyun was very, very skeptical at first, not wanting to cause any more drama or upstir with social media, especially not your fans, for being with someone who was 23 while he was 36. With your persistence and reassurance for a few months, Seung Hyun and Y/n L/n had finally made things official though, you both deciding to just come out with it to the media, before someone else got the chance to spoil it for you both.

So now you were going a year strong, you had your issues every now and then, but you both were each other's home, somewhere you felt safe, no matter where you were, what the environment was like, you'd always be home with each other.

As you laid on your apartment floor, you huffed, looking up towards your boyfriend who was visiting from South Korea, who was currently having an argument with himself in his head about how to bring up something to you. "Jagiya..are you okay?" You whispered, running a hand through your f/c dyed hair, it being part of your contract for promotional and appearance purposes, that you always had to match your style towards your current car, something Seung Hyun secretly hated. "Hmm?..Oh, I'm sorry, Aein, yea, yea I'm okay, why?" He replied after a moment, glancing back down towards you, you smiled softly at him, falling in love with him all over again as his hair fell in front of his glasses slightly. Slowly moving to sit on your knees, resting your hands on his knees as you tilted your head "I can tell somethings bothering you, don't make me pull the full name card" You threatened, giggling loudly as he gave you a confused look, not understanding exactly what you were threatening. As you moved to sit next to him, you smiled "Choi Seung Hyun, what's going on?" You asked softly, Seung Hyun nodded softly as he understood finally what a 'full name card' was, he was slowly catching onto the slang and phrases you used. "Now that my interviews are all wrapped up for now..I was thinking of staying to watch your race coming up?.." He offered nervously, it wasn't something either of you had spoken about before, yes you had been on set with him, often visiting him for his lunch breaks, but he hadn't ever been to one of your races in person. It wasn't because he didn't want to, of course he wanted to be there to support his #1 girl, but being seen like that in public felt very real for the both of you, it would just confirm everything and multiply any hate you'd get for your age gap. "R-Really? That'd be amazing, Jagiya! Please! Oh it'd be so awesome having you there! Everybody on my pit crew already loves you!" You rambled excitedly, placing your hands on his cheeks as he smiled at you, you looked absolutely beautiful to him, all the time, but especially whenever you were excited about something. "I'd love to, Aein, anything for my girl" He smiled softly, blushing still as you pressed your lips against his gently, resting one of your hands on his chest as you moved your lips against his. "Thank you! thank you" You cheered as you slowly pulled away, Seung Hyun laughing softly as you were still just as hyped up after the kiss you just had.

As Seung Hyun held you gently as you slept, he couldn't help but let his mind wander on how exactly he ended up with you. You were a famous 24-year-old American race car driver, and he was a retired 'controversial' 37-year-old actor, you could literally date any person you wanted, you were absolutely stunning, but you still chose him? He couldn't understand it, yes, he absolutely loved being with you, and loved loving you, but he just couldn't understand why out of everybody, you decided to be with him. The longer he let his mind ponder the thought, he could feel himself starting to doze, eventually falling asleep as he kept his arms around you, feeling a lot more comfortable with you close to him.

The next week would be hectic, none of your training or promotional gigs going as planned the week of the race, first your wheel malfunctions as your taking the first curve of the track during practice, then an interviewer starts asking wayyy too personal questions, and of course, to top it off, your brakes for some reason, stopped working, mid final practice. You were starting to lose hope until the day of the biggest race in your career currently, Daytona 500, as you walked out onto the track, finding your way towards your pit crew and family who were separated by a barricade, keeping press and other drivers' families away from the cars and track. As you approached the area, you frowned, seeing your mom, dad, and pit crew, but no Seung Hyun anywhere to be found "Hey mom, have you seen Seung Hyun? He said he'd be here" You asked, using the bar of the barricade to lift yourself up slightly to try and spot your boyfriend, but still, nothing.

Seung Hyun sat on a small platform above the starting line, he wanted to be with your family by the track, but after a few hundred people swarmed him at the entrance, security grabbed him away from the crowd, hiding him in the one spot they could think of at the moment. As you looked around, you finally sighed, glancing at your parents, shrugging sadly before turning towards the press, ready to get the race started, and hopefully figure out where the hell he is. While you spoke to the press, you failed to notice your boyfriend quickly moving across the empty track, two security guards escorting him towards your family finally. Moving back over to your car, you smiled brightly seeing the familiar face of Seung Hyun "Jegiya! I thought you wouldn't make it" You smiled brightly, leaning over the gate to hug him tightly, ignoring your mom's judgmental look, sure she supported you, but that didn't mean she liked the idea of you being with a much older man. "Of course I'd make it, I wanna see my aein kick some ass" He smiled brightly, cupping your cheeks as he pressed a quick kiss to your lips before all racers were called to their cars.

Climbing in through the window, you made sure to clip on your helmet, making sure your coms worked before starting up your engine, waiting for the greenlight from your pit crew to move over to the starting line. "Y/n, this is going to a smooth race, don't let this week get to you, all that matters right now is getting through this race" your Crew Chief, Jacob, said through your headset, causing you to shake your head gently "I know, I'm gonna try and make this one my best one yet, let's just keep everything quick, smooth, and keep lines open" You replied, pressing the small buttons on your helmet to start your playlist, 'Case 143' by Stray Kids starting to blast through your headphones as you watched the flag holder closely, getting ready to line up with the pace car.

The first thirty laps were going smoothly, you made your way from 27th place all the way up to fourth place without any issues. You knew most of the other drivers, either training with them, or just meeting them at different races, but there were still a handful you had never met, including the driver in fifth place behind you. "Y/n, fifth is right on your ass! Be careful!" Jacob shouted, watching nervously as the driver bumped the hood of his car against the rear of yours, causing you to lose control for a moment, somehow recovering just in time to block him from passing you. "Nice save, hun! Keep that quick mindset and get yourself to first, y/n/n!" He shouted, watching as you zipped past them quickly, your speedometer reading well over 100 miles per hour. As you attempted to pass the car in front of you, you felt your heart fall as you realized you were trapped between the wall and third place driver, along with another car close behind you, basically boxing you in. As you glanced over, you shot the driver a dirty glare, knowing damn well he'll get a penalty if anything happens, so all he was doing was being a dick by trapping you. As you managed to get your car free from his and the wall, you were flung against the seatbelt by another car slamming into your back fender, sending you into a spinning wreck as your car spun out into the turf in the center of the track. "Y/n!? Y/n! Get the hell back on the track!" Jacob pleaded, begging every god out there for you to fucking move already, you wouldn't be able to though, your padded suit and leg getting caught between your seat and gearshift, making it almost impossible to press the gas or breaks "J-Jacob I can't move!" You shouted, starting to panic, feeling a sense of dread as you watched cars starting zip past quickly, if you didn't figure out something quick, you were surely going to lose your spot, and become so far behind, it unfixable. Slamming your other foot on the gas, you felt the car jerk forward, sending you speeding back onto the track as you merged back in with the race.

Seung Hyun could feel his body being consumed by nerves, hating the idea of him not being able to help you in any way, but as you zipped past quickly, passing two other cars in the process, he knew you had this as under control as possible. You could feel your heart start to hammer in your chest as you raced side by side with the driver who was currently in first place, your nerves too high to notice any glares or hand gestures he sent towards you through his window. "Now Y/n! Go!" Jacob screamed into the headset, noticing you only had one curve left to pass this guy or else the race would end in a tie, or with you in second "I'm going!" You shouted, growling whenever the driver next to you did the same thing, both of you speeding up as you whipped around the corner quickly. As you pressed harder on the gas, you could feel the pain in your leg start become a lot worse, but your mind was only focusing on two things. Winning, and the sounds of Seung Hyun in the background of Jacob's chants, cheering you on to be badass and to take the gold. As you passed the driver, taking on first place, your tires crossed the finish line, causing cheers to erupt from everywhere, the stands, barricade line, and your headset. Taking a victory lap to help slow down your high speeds before parking, letting the panic wash over you as you realized how much pain you were truly in from your leg being stuck. As you glanced down, you tried your best to assess the damage without freaking yourself out more, your knee was stuck between the gear shift and seat, and your foot was twisted in an unnatural way as it was caught in the track on your seat. “J-Jacob, I-I’m stuck bad, I need a medic” you whimpered, trying desperately to pry your helmet off of your head so you could at least get some freedom “okay, okay! We’ve got a medic on her way, we’re gonna try and get you out of the car until then okay?” His voice came through the coms as you tried your best to pry the plastic pieces apart to free your knee at least, only causing you even more pain.

The minute Seung Hyun realized you weren’t getting out of your car and something was wrong, he threw himself over the barricade, rushing along side Jacob to the driver side of your car. “Aein, baby, are you okay?” He asked frantically, reaching through the open window to hold onto your shaking hands gently. “I-i’m…chilling” you whimpered, trying not to cry or panic in front of him, knowing it’d just make him panic and start dismantling your car to get you out, even if it meant totaling it out. “Are you bleeding? What happened?” He continued rambling, not stepping back until the medics pulled him back, as he watched from a few feet away, he made eye contact with your parents, feeling a new kind of anxiousness filling his body as his mind started to spiral. Moving to rush over to your parents to swap them spots, feeling like it was more of your parents’ place to be there, waiting, instead of him. Your mother huffed giving him a confused look “What’re you doing, dear!? Why aren’t you staying over there?!” Your mother asked, tilting her head as she watched him nervously stop in his tracks “I-i, your h-her mom and dad-“ he started to ramble, your mother wasn’t stupid, and she knew exactly how Seung Hyun felt, you weren’t the only one who had started dating an older man, and while she didn’t like it, she wasn’t going to become her own mother. “Honey, she needs you. She’s going to want to see you for comfort as soon as she’s out of that car, so I’m telling you as your future mother in law, go take care of my daughter.” She demanded, watching as her words kind of gave Seung Hyun the push he needed to get into a non-panicked mindset, rushing back over to your car as the medics slowly helped you out of the car, keeping your leg in a wooden splint to keep it stable.

“Aein! Baby I’m here!” He shouted quickly, rushing past your pit crew and press that now swarmed you, he wrapped his arm around you gently, following the medics as he helped you support yourself as you walked with him.

After being sent from the medical building, to the actual hospital, you were finally able to return back home to your apartment, much to your relief. As you laid on your bed, you glared at the bright f/c cast that sat on your leg going from your thigh all the way to your toes, covering your knee, ankle, and foot to help it in the healing process. “You know..glaring won’t make it go away” your boyfriend whispered, his voice still heavenly to your ears as he slowly made his way from the doorway to his spot next to you in bed. “I hate it, you know they said I can’t drive for eight months, if not longer!?” You gasped dramatically, cupping his cheeks “I’m going to die! I swear! How the fuck am I supposed to live laugh and love in these conditions? Honestly?” You ranted, motioning to your leg “because I am not living! Laughing! Or loving! And it’s criminal damnit!” You continued, not noticing your boyfriend’s beyond confused face at all of your phrases that you were throwing around. It wasn’t that Seung Hyun was bad at English, he had actually gotten a lot better since he started talking with you almost daily, but he did get confused about certain things you’d say, one of them being you calling things criminal, how was your leg being broken criminal? Was breaking your leg actually illegal in America? Surely not, but, if not why was it criminal? “Are you going to jail?” He asked softly, feeling his heart starting to break as he genuinely started to believe the longer you rant, the more illegal, and criminal it was to break your leg “Wha-..? Oh Jegiya, my love no!” You giggled, catching your mistake almost as soon as you saw his overly worried expression “h-how is that criminal then?..” he asked tilting his head slightly as he leaned back against the pillows, pulling you close, all while being cautious of your cast and leg.

“It’s just a thing..that people say I guess, it’s not actually criminal though, Jegiya, I promise” you smiled, not being able to hold back your giggles as he nodded gently. You couldn’t help it, he was so damn adorable whenever he was confused like this, it just made you want to hug him and never let go. “Is there anything I can do for you, love?” Seung Hyun whispered after a moment, tracing his fingers over your shoulder as he let out a deep breath “Just you, Jegiya” you whispered, holding onto him tightly as you closed your eyes, letting yourself relax “hey Y/n?…” he whispered gently, causing you to tilt your head up gently to meet his gaze “I’m proud of you, you’re like..the coolest badass I know” he smiled softly, pressing his lips to your forehead gently “ya know, ever since I showed you the word badass in English, you’ve been calling me it every five seconds” you laughed, watching as he just shrugged in reply “because you’re a badass, I’m just saying the truth” he replied playfully, starting to run his fingers through your hair as he took another breath “Aein…how would you feel about getting a home here together?” He asked after a moment, you sat up, tilting your head, silently asking him to repeat himself just to make sure you heard him correctly, after getting confirmation that, yes, he did want to get a house with you, you smiled brightly. “I would be so excited!! Please! I’d love it so much” you smiled, hugging him tightly as you smiled, as you laid there for a little longer, Seung Hyun had one last question for you, it starting to chip away at him way too much for him to stay quiet any longer.

“Why did you ask me out?..like, out of everybody in this world, why some weird guy who’s way older than you? Wouldn’t you want somebody your age? Who’s able to keep up with you?” He rambled, causing you to sit up again, this time highly offended, how fucking dare he, not only questioning your judgement, but also talking down towards himself? What the fuck. “Stop. Just stop it Seung Hyun. I like my weird guy, he’s weird like me, and it makes him fun to be around” you started your lecture, taking his hand in yours gently as you spoke “and for the other stuff? I’ve told you, my love. The same reason you like me, I didn’t fall in love with your age or name, I fell in love with you, and your personality, and trust me, handsome, you keep up with me better than anybody, you’re amazing” you giggled, biting your bottom lip teasingly as he rolled his eyes towards you jokingly “I just mean-“ you cut him off before he could even start his protests “Choi Seung Hyun. I love you.” You demanded, not knowing how to get it through to him without just stating how you truly felt towards him. “Y/n…” he whispered, trying to think of what to say as his anxiety started to take over his body “I love you too” he whispered, pressing his lips against yours, moving his with yours as he gently placed his hands on your side and cheek.

You weren’t sure what was going to happen after you recovered, but you were 100% sure about one thing, just like you were sure about being a race car driver, you were going to marry this man. As you pulled away slowly, you rested a hand on his cheek gently “I’m so sleepy, I just wanna lay here with you” you whispered tiredly, moving to lay your head on his chest, tracing shapes onto his chest as you felt yourself starting to doze “well I would be too, Aein, you had one hell of a day” he replied, continuing to run his fingers through your hair as you slowly fell asleep, leaving Seung Hyun to his own thoughts before finally falling asleep himself.

—

What do we think lovelies? You like? I’m so sorry it’s been awhile, like I said a few days ago, I’ve been stuck in a small rut feeling as if my stories haven’t been coming out that well at all, that or they’re just not good ideas at all, so I tried my best with this one as I’m trying to just push through that rut, trying to keep in mind every artist will always be their biggest critic, but it’s been a little difficult but you lovelies are always such a big help and support 💕 While I'm very nervous to start posting the stories I'm iffy about, your guys' support is definitely helping me through it all, so thank you all truly, for everything you've done for me, it means the world, and universe. 💕💕 I’ve gotten quite a bit of asks and messages about an Age Gap story with Seung Hyun and a younger reader, so please! Please! Please! Let me know what you think, next to be posted is my ‘stepdad! Ji-Yong x single mother! Reader’ story, which I’m very excited about so stay tuned lovelies! maybe after that a part two to this if you'd like? Or another age gap story if you'd like? Let me know! <3 I love you 🫶🫶 and I’m excited to hear from you!! 🫶💕

—

Taglist!!

@onyxmango

@ag02212023

@acehasmyheart

@mitchko11

@learninglinesintherainn

@seunghyunwifey

@jajabro

@heartsforseo

@lilou0401

@maenoakasuna

@ericityyy

@frangiipanii

@seunghyunwifey

@sturnioloslut-b

@isssaaaa2111

@goodnight-n-go-home

@skzdreamz

@enhasrii

@sunhyeswife

@ilovethe141

@saraaisfree

@sassyyoyo

@i-might-be-vanny

@cheese10001

@live-laugh-lovef1

@c1delight

@blue-sky336

@sherrayyyyy

@forevervibezzzz1

@mirahyun

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Captain's Orders 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, controlling behaviour, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The Captain takes it upon himself to change your life.

Characters: Steve Rogers

Note: I am still dizzy her and there but feeling a bit better.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You wouldn’t call it doom scrolling. That’s not what this is. You try not to search out the depressing headlines or the studies of the human character assuring you of your race’s inherent flaws. Yet, all those boastful posts about engagements, weddings, and promotions still make you feel crummy. 

Jealous? Sure. You don’t have any of those things and it isn’t as if you can hope for as much, either. You’re in a dead-end job, living in cramped apartment with your sister and her irresponsible friend, and your romantic life is next to non-existent; not that you’ve been looking. None of that is meant for you, otherwise, you’d have had some glimmer of interest by now. 

It’s like quicksand. Not very quick but it pulls you down lower and lower. Sinking and sinking until all you can see is the muck. There’s no way out now, you’re waist deep in it. 

You click under your favourite communities and start a new post. You don’t make many. Mostly you read and judge silently. You’re a lurker. Like in many facets of your life. You watch, you don’t do. But you’ve had a shitty day and you need to just let it out. 

Your fingers move as your thoughts boil in your head; your nagging manager, your lazy landlord, and your immature roommates. Nothing ever goes your way. Everyone else has it figured out and you’re just left to rot. You try! You do. Resumes, profiles on friendship apps, online courses; free, of course, it’s all you can afford, but you do try to improve yourself. It just doesn’t work. 

You hit ‘post’ and close the lid of your ancient laptop. It’s as thick as a book. The battery doesn’t hold a charge and the fan is as loud as a jet. You fall back onto your bed and look around your tiny room. That’s all you have. This space is as much as you can call your own and not really. You rent it, it can be taken away with one of those red stamped notices. 

You yawn and drag yourself up. A whole shift and you didn’t bother to have more than the bland break room coffee spewed from the off-brand pod machine and a couple sticks of gum. Tia got herself sushi before her shift but she can just ask her parents to send her money to cover her Door Dash addiction. 

You plod out to the kitchen. Your sister closes the fridge and cracks the tab of a beer can. You’re sure it isn’t her first.  

“I didn’t hear you come in,” Shea bobbles her head. 

Funny since Donna pretty much hollered at you for interrupting her TV show. You all pitched in on the flat screen yet it’s never your turn with it. You shrug and go to the cupboard. It’s not sushi but the spicy shrimp ramen isn’t too bad... 

“You work?” You ask. 

“Pfft, no. Didn’t I say I was going to lunch with Mason?” 

“Did you?” You take down at bowl. She probably did. You never remember. She’s always got a date or a party or a fall back. If she can’t make rent, she’ll smile a cute guy and get some money. 

“He bought me some shoes! You’ll never believe.” 

“Right,” you try not to seethe. 

You’re scraping the bottom of the barrel. You’re eating sodium-laced noodles and holding back tears against old people wanting to print out their life story from a corrupt PDF. She’s pretty. She doesn’t have to try. Shea is all the proof you need that some people are just lucky. 

You put the electric kettle onto boil and the smell of burnt—something makes your lip curl. You pop the lid and look inside. It’s brown. What the hell? 

“What’s wrong with this?” You ask as you flip off the switch. 

“Donna!” Shea yells, “what did you do to the kettle?” No answer. Your sister hollers again. 

A door swings open and Donna stomps out with a huff. Her face is green as she has a mask spread over it and eye masks pasted beneath her lashes. 

“I’m getting ready--” 

“The kettle stinks,” you reach for a pot and find none. They’re all stacked and waiting to be washed. You snatch one off the top and flip on the faucet. 

“Oh, I heated up some bone broth in it. I’m doing a cleanse,” she smirks. “Tasted kinda weird.” 

“Bone broth?” You scoff. See. You try, they can’t even clean dishes. “Great.” 

“I’m sure it’s fine, just rinse it out,” Shea says. 

You scrub the pan and ignore her. You glance up as she slurps noisily from the can. Pre-drinks. Her and Donna are going out. Again. They can afford to because they don’t buy their own drinks. They don’t need to. You went out with them once and paid for all of your own, even though you’d have been happy enough with a single round. 

“Have fun,” you dry out the pan and slam it on the burner. 

“Jeez, maybe you should loosen up?” Donna chides. 

“Yeah, come with us. Dance it out,” Shea drawls. 

“No thanks,” you twist the knob and light the burner. “I have work tomorrow.” 

“Call innnnn,” Shea insists. 

“I can’t,” you sniff and step back to wait for the water to boil. 

“Boring,” she chirps. 

“Yep, I am,” you cross your arms. Your annoyed. When the go out, you’ll have to clean up this mess. You can’t handle another bout of fruit flies. 

You put the noodles in and let them soften. You stir in the oil and powder then retreat to your room with the bowl of boiling cholesterol. You let it cool and put a video on your phone. You don’t want to think. 

You eat deliberately. You savour the processed flavouring. You can’t go out sneak a midnight snack; Donna ate all your cookies. You label all your stuff in thick marker and she apparently can’t read. 

You hear them leave. They’re loud. They leave the television on. At high volume. 

You go out and shut it off. You need to sleep soon. Opening always comes after a late shift. Otherwise, how else would the corporation keep you disempowered. 

You open your laptop. You’ll but on some lo-fi while you charge your phone. Heck, the fan is like white noise on its own. 

The little red number at the bottom of the page stops you. You left the browser open. Someone actually responded to your post. You click and your stomach drops as you read the first sentence. 

‘Sounds like you cause a lot of your own problems. Maybe try some mindful exercises and get out more. You should also consider making some friends.’ 

You read it over and over. You’re angry. Hurt, too. But most that first thing. You can’t stop from replying. 

‘You got all that from me venting? I wasn’t asking for advice. I walk to and from work and I have friends.’ 

It’s mostly true. You do walk. Most days. And your sister is a friend, isn’t she? By association, so is Donna. 

Before you can look up your favourite twelve-hour lo-fi, another notification pops up. 

‘Looking at your post history, your diet could use some improvements. More veggies. And walking is a good starting point but you need to increase your endorphins. I’d be happy to send you some helpful guides. They’re easily searchable on the internet. We live in the age of information, you should consider taking advantage of that.’ 

Wow, what an asshole. He’s smug and obviously better than you. You click on his username and scroll through. Just as you expect. He posts in fitness communities. Not any videos of him but sharing tutorials and recipes for high-protein smoothies and fibre-laced juices. He wouldn’t know flavour if it puked in his mouth. 

You his ‘esc’ and go back to your own post; ‘thanks for the advice. Have a good one.; 

That’s it. You’re not arguing with some faceless douche on the internet. His response is as quick as the first. 

‘A helpful link.’ He hyperlinks the words. ‘You should at least stretch in the morning and go outside on your breaks at work. You might work long shifts but it’s no excuse to be lazy. If you’ve been in that role for so long, you should have more than enough references to move on to something that doesn’t make you miserable.’ 

You don’t answer. You know if you do, you’ll just embarrass yourself. Judging by the few pics of his real life and his cadence, he’s got everything. He just thinks it’s a matter of mindset. There can’t possibly be anything else which could make things more difficult for people. You just don’t work hard enough. Duh, everyone always says so. 

You close out of the page. If he replies again, you’ll block him. Simple as. You put on a lo-fi track and dim the screen. You roll over and tuck into bed. You fall asleep in a ball of stress; you have to wake up, shower, do all that human stuff, then make yourself face another eight hours of hell. 

⭐

“I hate working at the fucking copy desk,” you hiss as you take your bag from the cubby in the break room. “Good luck.” 

Darcy gives you a look as she sits at one of the tables, waiting for her shift to start. You grit your teeth as you should your purse and grip your jacket tight. You punch your employee number into the clock then head out. 

As you march down the aisle of toner, a customer tries to stop you. “I’m off duty.” 

“But I need a keyboard.” 

You ignore them and keep going. 

“I’m going to tell a manager, young lady!” 

You don’t care. Besides, why are they looking for a keyboard in the toner aisle. The signs above with the giant letters clearly show that the computer accessories are in the opposite corner. 

People are stupid. They might be able to read, technically, but they definitely lack comprehension. Just like Donna who can’t keep her hands off your snacks. 

You walk home in a simmer. If you let your temper get away from you, you won’t be able to hold back when you walk into the inevitable shit show waiting for you at home. Shea and Donna hungover, probably having got into more of your sparse groceries, and amidst a brand new mess for you to tidy. You won’t not this time. 

You have a mission. Go to your room and don’t come out. 

As you enter your building, you find the elevator non-responsive. A tiny post-it is stuck to the doors. ‘Out of Order’. Couldn’t have made something a bit more legible? 

You take the stairs. The hallway smells like onion and dirty clothes. You take out your keys as you get to your door, ignoring the rabble coming from the apartment next to yours. Before you can get your key in the slot, the door opens. 

“Heyyyy, she’s back,” Shea greets. You blink at her in confusion. Is she already drunk again? 

“Starting already?” You ask as you try to get past her. 

“Hm, no,” she says tritely, “you have a guest.” 

You roll your eyes, “don’t be a bitch, alright?” 

“No, really,” she grins. You stop and look her up and down. She isn’t falling apart like usual after a Friday night. Her hair is done, her makeup too, and she’s not in her sweats.  

“Is it mom?” You whisper. 

She snorts, “you’re stupid. No, it’s your friend. Steve.” She backs up with a shimmy, “I think some people call him Captain.” 

You make a face. What? 

“Who...” 

“Ahem,” a figure appears by the corner of the kitchen counter, “I didn’t mean to intrude.” 

You crane to see over Shea’s shoulder. The man behind her is tall. And familiar. Steve Rogers. Your expression contorts as your lashes flutter in confusion. 

“Not at all, Stevie,” Shea spins, “I’ll give you two the room. So nice to meet you.” 

She squeezes by him and touches his forearm as she does. He doesn’t react. She giggles and flits off. Her door shuts but you can tell that the latch didn’t catch. She’s listening. 

“Should we go outside? Get some sun?” He asks. 

You glance at him again. You’re lost. 

“Do I know you?” You grimace. 

“After all day under fluorescent, you should really get out--” 

“I-- I’m sorry, can you slow down and explain--” 

“Outside. Privately,” he says. 

You peek past him then look into the hallway behind you. You search your mind for an explanation. The only place you know him from is the internet or a history book. 

“Like I said before, going outside can really help with mood issues.” 

You hesitate and your mouth falls open. It can’t be... 

“Was that you? Last night?” You shake your head. 

“How about I buy you a smoothie?” He offers. 

You snap your mouth shut. He can’t be serious. This can’t be real. 

[victoryai]

SOLAR RETURN ASC IN NATAL HOUSES

You can reblog↪️ but please have the decency not to steal 🚫 my work.

🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱.

🚍SOLAR RETURN ASC IN NATAL 1ST HOUSE: This year's focus is doubled on you. This year is almost like taking a journey back to the year you were born. This year has your name written on it. It's going to be easy for you as you'll feel so much in your own skin. This is a year to solidify your life purpose.

🚍 SOLAR RETURN ASC IN NATAL 2ND HOUSE:This wonderful year (with more favourable positions) is pointing to an increment in your finances, wealth and self esteem. If afflicted, it may be pointing to financial losses. If your planning to change your diet or eat more healthy , then go for it this year. You'll see the changes

🚍 SOLAR RETURN ASC IN NATAL 3RD HOUSE: This nervous 😆 year is bringing forth more school work to you 😂. It's inviting a lot of movement. You might have a new sibling too. I had this the year when my lil sis was born. I also wrote a major exam and became a senior in 🎒 school that year and was learning new courses. You're always on the go. Stay away from crazy gossip with friends pls 😂

🚍 SOLAR RETURN ASC IN NATAL 4TH HOUSE: This year ahead shows a lot of staying indoors. I had this when I was 2 so I was always with My Momma and indoors too. Where else would a two year old child be? 😂. If you're grown already you might spend more time with a lot of extended family members. If afflicted it might show issues at home. You might buy a new house or reconnect with family more😊

🚍 SOLAR RETURN ASC IN NATAL 5th house . This year you might get pregnant 😮 so take it easy 😉. If you're looking for love (more casually)there's a 70% chance you'll get it. if your a parent already, focus on your kids pls. It might also be a year you decide to take things light and fun . However it might also indicate that your taking a short time educational course. If you love Casinos, you're likely to bag 💰 it this year. Go baby!

🚍 SOLAR RETURN ASC IN NATAL 6TH HOUSE: I see that someone here needs to start developing good habits and taking extra care of your health. Pls avoid getting into conflicts or court cases. You might be if service to persons who need help. If you're a doctor or health worker expect more in your plate. You need to be clean this year 😮‍💨

🚍SOLAR RETURN ASC IN NATAL 7TH HOUSE: So chessy 😊, yet so unlike you. For most people, this will indicate a new love affair or meeting the one 💘, being a spec, random compliment from strangers. For those that are married, take care of your spouse and marriage too. For a few , it could make you uncomfortable 😣 because you're sitting in the house of other people who are so different from you. You might not understand yourself lol.

🚍SOLAR RETURN ASC IN NATAL 8TH HOUSE: This year is exploring your natal 8th house. With a year like this there's a chance of entering into a joint account or business with someone else. Make Sure you can trust that person. You might also receive large amount of shares or inheritance . When this year ends you could be richer or poorer. If you're considering surgery, you might go ahead this year.

🚍SOLAR RETURN ASC IN NATAL 9TH HOUSE: 😋 This seems to me like someone is about to travel and stay away for a long time. Matters of education also arise too. You might start or finish college. The year I had this, I travelled and started going to college . You just want to explore the world and meet new minds. Religion is also highlighted.

🚍 SOLAR RETURN ASC IN NATAL 10TH HOUSE: This year is about your job and your boss. Your energy is directed towards your job. You might also become famous. Get an increment or promotion. Become a role model for many too. Its going to be a year packed with responsibility too

🚍 SOLAR RETURN ASC IN NATAL 11TH HOUSE: Those midnight wishes seem to be coming true😇. Those long term goals manifesting. You might be very different and innovative this year, maybe you become more interested in technology. Make more friends. Do something online and become famous.

🚍SOLAR RETURN ASC IN NATAL 12TH HOUSE: 😭😭😭The year I had this , it seemed like some bad luck just followed me. I had a few losses too(not financially tho) I almost fell into depression but I'm glad I didn't. I started to learn astral projection. I was surprised that I easily let go of addiction too😊. If you're familiar with this house it wouldn't be hard for you

[jkl-fff]

Alright, after an inexplicable hiatus of a couple months, I have returned to finally complete my watch of the Hammer Dracula films! (Don't know why I always have such a difficulty finishing things, even when I'm right near their ends. Perhaps it's because, on an unconscious level, I fear completing things. Perhaps because completing things means I have to allow them to pass out of my life and into the world, where I no longer have control of them. Perhaps because completing things means I have to find a new occupation for my time, as this one will no longer serve.) This last one, The Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires, is astounding. Really astounding.

Credit where credit's due: I'm really impressed that they had the guts to try something so bold and different from the rest of the series (a kungfu Dracula movie actually set in China, partnered with a Hong Kong studio and featuring a majority cast of Asian actors). And for an exploitation film (it has no less than 3 scenes with many topless women, the most of this series) made in 1973, it had some surprisingly progressive moments. Specifically, it prominintely features a woman martial artist who is as capable as her 6 brothers (and more so than Van Helsing & his son). It features *2* interracial romances with no hint of negative judgment against them. Van Helsing is nothing but genuinely respectful and admiring of the Chinese characters (their knowledge as he always recognizes his own ignorance on matters of Asian vampires, their country's sophisticated culture, and their martial arts skills) from beginning to finish. And they touch on the interesting theological and worldbuilding question of Christian *and* Buddhist iconography both having power to repel vampires. Oh, also Van Helsing wears an adorable pith helmet in many scenes with a ludicrously long ribbon for no discernible reason. That's great.

But the rest of the film ... For one thing, where is Christopher Lee? The supposedly-Dracula is played by a guy who is obviously not him, and with make-up that looks more like he was supposed to play the Joker from the Adam West TV series. Up until he posseses (I guess) a Chinese guy, giving us supossedly-supposedly-Dracula with hilarious voiceovers that do *not* match his mouth or gesticulations. The 7 Golden Vampires are the most ridiculous looking monster costumes I've ever seen, their hoard of zombies are impossible to take seriously since they spend most of their time *skipping and bouncing* (an allusion to jiangshi legends?) and with a weird chattering in the music (representing evil laughter?), and the large group fight scenes are nonsensical (that's not how people fight in a group) and visually confusing (can't tell zombies from farmers). The martial arts choreography isn't the worst I've ever seen (except for the twin brothers who have to always fight while holding hands for some reason? and the vampire whose reaction to being fatally stabbed is to do a backflip?), but it isn't great either. And the weapons look like shiny toys.

Still, it was interesting to see a flip on gender at the end. The woman martial artist is captured and strapped to one of the topless bondage tables, yet frees herself (masculinizing her because of her combat skills?) while the Van Helsing boy (easily the least capable character in terms of combat skills) who rushed to rescue her is laid out on another topless bondage table and needs to be saved by someone competent (feminizing him?). And Dracula (true to form) has another weakass death scene where he gets easily impaled (hilariously easy given all the fight scenes the Golden Vampires performed) *by throwing himself at Van Helsing* and then slumping onto his own topless bondage table to die (also feminizing him?).

Interesting ideas, poor executions that make it just seem nuts.

Still, this was a lot of fun! Thanks again, OP, for compiling and sharing this list!

with dracula daily in full swing and the arrival of spoopy season, i thought i might spend my bedridden day collecting links for all to enjoy the entire hammer horror dracula canon. feel free to check out my pinned for my personal thoughts on watch order, etc.

starred movies i particularly recommend as they follow a timeline, with unstarred movies mostly being extraneous/filler (yet amusing nonetheless).

⭐️horror of dracula

⭐️ brides of dracula

dracula: prince of darkness

dracula has risen from the grave

taste the blood of dracula

scars of dracula

⭐️ dracula a.d. 1972

⭐️ the satanic rites of dracula

legend of the seven golden vampires

happy watching!

[melodyreads]

Only threw this party for you

Hamzah x (fem)reader

Description: It's the reader's birthday and she decided to host a "rager". Her friends are skeptical as she's never been interested in hosting parties. Little do they know, it was all planned with the hope that one person in particular would make an appearance.

a/n: I'm sure you can tell from my profile pic that I'm a huge Charli fan lol. This idea came to me as I was playing this album on repeat. Hope y'all enjoy <3

---

The bass thumped against the walls, the thick air overbearing with the smell of spilled drinks and hot bodies. You had never been one for house parties—especially not the kind filled with strangers you barely knew. But this made the party all that much more appealing right? Tonight was different.

Tonight was a gamble.

Your friends had raised their eyebrows when you’d proposed the idea. "Since when do you throw parties?" Taylor had asked, skepticism lacing her tone. You’d only shrugged, feigning nonchalance, while anticipation clawed at your ribs. You have just recently moved into a new apartment with lots of space, so this could be your chance to show it off. While everyone else thought this was just a random burst of spontaneity, you knew better.

You’d planned every detail of this night with one hope in mind:

that Hamzah would show up.

Hamzah had been your friend for years— at least, that was how you would describe him. You weren't even sure if he felt the same way anymore. Your friendship teetering on the edge of something more but never quite crossing that line. That was until one night you had said a few more words then you should have.

---

It had been late, just the two of you lingering in the glow of streetlights after the rest of your friends had gone home. He always walked you home.

His arms rested in his pockets as he looked down at you smiling while you recited a story you found hilarious.

"Can you believe that? She went that far all for some guy. I can't even imagine."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "I mean, people do crazy things for the people they like."

You laughed, a little breathless, but his smile made your heart skip. It was like there was a quiet understanding between the two of you, a connection that lingered in the spaces between your words.

As we arrived at my apartment, something in the city air made me feel a bit too confident. Suddenly, words tumbled from your lips before you could stop it. "Honestly, I can only imagine going that far if he was someone like you."

Too much.

Hamzah stopped dead in his tracks, mouth agape with wide eyes.

You had let your guard slip.

He hadn’t responded right away. His gaze had flickered, searching yours, his lips parting as if to say something—anything—but nothing came. The silence stretched too long, thick and suffocating, until finally, he had only managed a quiet, "I should go."

___

That was the last you had heard from him in weeks. You were too embarrassed to phone him or go by his house and apologize for making the situation so weird.

You tried not to scan the crowd too obviously, though your heart shot up each time the front door creaked open. Friends mingled, and people you barely knew were making out in corners. Almost everyone was enjoying themselves, dancing in dim lighting without a care in the world. Someone had taken control of the playlist, swapping your mix of what you liked to call, "gay club music" with Nettspend.

Still, no Hamzah.

You were starting to lose hope.

You went outside in an attempt to cool off. The view was the highlight of your new place. The city lights shined brightly as you looked down imagining what the rest of the world was doing tonight.

What he was doing.

Your head turned to see the steam rolling off the newly integrated pool on your balcony. Beside the view, it was your favorite part of the apartment, and one of the main reasons you fought so hard to secure this place. You looked back through the door you came from.

No one seemed to notice you were even gone.

You slowly removed the short dress you were wearing. As you kicked it to the side, you plunged into the warm water.

The warmth of the water wrapped around you, contrasting against the crisp night air. You let yourself float, eyes closed, taking in the sacred peacefulness. You felt your heart start to ache. You weren’t sure if it was the remnants of disappointment or the burn of anticipation that you couldn’t quite shake.

When you finally broke the surface, slicking your hair back and blinking against the city lights, your breath caught in your throat.

Hamzah was there.

Sitting by the edge of the pool, laying back on his arms, watching you with an unreadable expression. His dark eyes bore into yours with an expression almost unreadable The golden glow of the city cast soft shadows across his face, making the moment feel almost unreal.

You suddenly became acutely aware of your lack of clothes.

Your stomach twisted as embarrassment crept up your spine. You opened your mouth to speak, to explain, to maybe make a joke and defuse the tension, but nothing came out. He beat you to it.

“You always do this,” he said in a deep but quiet voice.

Your brows knitted together. “Do what?”

“Run away.”

You swallowed hard, shifting in the water as you hugged your arms around yourself. “I thought you were avoiding me.”

Hamzah let out a breath, shaking his head. “I wasn’t. I just… I needed to think.”

You nodded, though you weren’t entirely sure what to say to that. The air between you buzzed with an unspoken weight, the memory of your last encounter hanging between you like a feeling you couldn't shake.

Then, in the silence, he said it.

“I like you.”

Your heart stuttered.

“I’ve liked you for a while,” he continued, his voice softer now, like he wasn’t entirely sure how to say it. “And I freaked out when you got close because I didn’t know if you felt the same.”

You stared at him, chest rising and falling too quickly. The warmth of the pool did nothing to ease the chill spreading through your veins—not from fear, but from the sheer intensity of his words.

You started to move towards him.

Reaching for the ledge, you pushed yourself up slightly, just enough to get the bottom half of his clothes wet.

The space between you dissolves into nothing. Your fingers found his jaw, your fingers finally meeting at the side of his mouth before leaning in.

The moment his lips met yours, it was like everything clicked into place.

Your mouths moved against each other in fever as if you were both making up for lost time. Which you definitley were.

In one swift movement, he pulled you out of the water completely so that your drenched body was straddling his. The tension that had been lingering for weeks melted in the heat of the kiss. He tasted like the city night and something inherently him—something you had been wanting for longer than you cared to admit. His hands found your waist, fingers pressing into the slick fabric of your bra, grounding you in the reality of it all.

When you finally pulled away, foreheads touching, his breath mingling with yours, you couldn’t help but smile.

"So..." Hamzah said out of breath, "Who’s the lucky guest of honor?”

You shrugged, ignoring the way your pulse betrayed you. “Dunno. Just… felt like celebrating.”

He chuckled at this, something dark in his eyes shined as he leaned in close enough for only me to hear.

“Happy birthday, then,” he murmured, voice softer now.

Maybe—just maybe—the gamble had paid off.

---

a/n: Just wrote this in my 365 partygirl shirt hope I channeled the vibes. Thank u for reading <3333333333333333

[thefeverburningalive]

ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ 𝖳𝖾𝗇 𝖳𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝖨 𝖧𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝖠𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖸𝗈𝗎.

billie eilish x f!reader

chapter one

summary: due to the recent new rule given to your sister by your father, some meddling parties decide the easiest way to get you to date is by paying somebody to take you out. who better to do so then the hot mysterious delinquent?

a/n: hii omg first series! if you haven’t seen the actual movie 10 things i hate about you i totally recommend it’s so cute and i love it sm:) clearly i love it sm i wrote a fic about it! this first part is more of a set up for the rest of the series but it’ll be so so worth itttt. anyways yeah i hope you guys love it feel free to comment or anything and lmk if you’re interested in a tag list!! mwah<3

genre: slow burn, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, enemies(ish) to lovers, lowk fboy billie but not actually, eventual topics of drinking & high school parties

warnings: none!

word count: 2.4k

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

“okay then,, what did everyone think of ‘the sun also rises’?” the voice of mr. morgan echos throughout the classroom. soon after a bubbly red head girl speaks up. “i loved it! it was soooo romantic.” romantic? what a joke. you had read the same work of literature of course, along with a plethora of others. the average student didn’t do half as much reaserch as you do, going out of your way to read the very works of hemingway, shakespeare and others. not only did you read their works but you studied their lives. did this girl even know anything about hemingway?? men like him don’t know anything about love- much like every other person. you had no patience for this today. “romantic? hemingway?! he was an abusive alcoholic misogynist who squandered half his life hanging around picasso trying to nail his leftovers.” as the people around you roll their eyes, you couldn’t care less. you’re a women with strong beliefs and opinions, you had the right to express whatever you wanted. especially when you’re right. of course right on time your least favorite person decided to now speak his own mind. joey donner. the air headed, pretentious, self centered, jock, who took every advance he could get his hands on to get under your skin. not only that but he’d also been seen hanging around your sister. “as apposed to being a self-righteous hag who has no friends?” you refused to even look his direction. you had no issues with how you are, it’s how you’ve always been. making friends with mindless hormone filled teenagers was a complete waste of your time, besides, you in-fact had one friend. the rest of the class snickers and giggles while joey gets a fist bump from one of his other jock buddies. how could someone applaud his behavior? “i guess in this society being male and an asshole makes you worthy of our time. what about sylvia plath? or charlotte bronte? or simone de beauviour?” you started to raise your voice, trying to be heard over the nonsense being said around the class. unfortunately, your comment only causes more uproar and mockery. “hey! hey!!” mr. morgan tries to regain the attention of the class as joey raises his hand. “um mr. morgan is there any chance we could get y/n to take her mydol before she comes to class?” you where now fuming. you couldn’t even focus on anything else the teacher continued to say, even if he was putting joey in his place. this is why you can’t stand the thought of love or romance. it causes nothing but issues, even when it’s only being discussed. your attention is grasped once again when mr. morgan now turns to you. “y/n. thank you for your point of view-“ you start to smirk. “-i know how difficult it must be for you to overcome all those years of upper middle class suburban oppression. must be tough” within a split second your smirk deflates and turns into a scoff. so just because you grew up comfortable means you can’t understand the bullshit that goes on in society?? what bullshit.

before you knew it the end of the day was here. you arrived back at home a few minutes before your sister, bianca. bianca was the complete opposite of you. take away the fact that she’s two years younger than you, she was bubbly, friendly, popular, liked, and very ‘cutsey’. to say you two didn’t always get along was an understatement. as you walked through the living room your father sparks conversation. “hello y/n. make anyone cry today?” he speaks with a generally monotoned voice while reading the news paper, a slight smirk decorating his face. “sadly no, buuut it’s only 4:30.” joking around with your dad was always one of the highlights of your day. soon after your remark your sister skips through the door. “hi daddy!” bianca tries to continue to skip passed the entire encounter. but of course you weren’t going to let her do that. “and where have you been?” you say with a sarcastically bubbly tone. you’re met with a sour glare as she claims she’d been ‘nowhere’. “hey dad why don’t you ask bianca who drove her home today?” your dad suddenly snaps out of his probably boring newspaper. “who drove you home??” hah. busted. that’s what she gets for hanging around joey. he’s no good and you just want to protect her. “now don’t be upset daddy, but there is this boy..” you cut her off before she even gets to finish. “-who’s a flaming imbecile!” bianca gives you a glare. “and i think he’s gonna ask me out!” that’s all your father had to hear before he starts to go on a rant about boys and dating. your dad had always been very very clear about dating in high school, making the number one rule of the house ‘no dating till you graduate’. “can we just focus on me for a second please? i am literally the only girl in high school who’s not dating!!” you sit back with your arms crossed on the couch listening to the two of them go back and fourth. it was honestly very amusing. “oh no you’re not, your sister doesn’t date.” this makes bianca throw her arms up in frustration. “y/n’s a freak! she comes from planet loser!” ouch? well if she was going to insult you it was fair game to insult back. you stand up, taking a step closer. “at least i don’t act like some bimbo prancing around going ‘oo look at me look at me!!’” at that point your dad steps between the two of you before she could even rebuttal. “how about this, old rule out new rule in..” he turns to bianca. “you can date..” he stops and looks over at you. “..when she does!” well- there goes bianca’s chances of going on a date for the rest of her life. “but she’s a mutant! what if she never dates?!” the question makes your father audibly laugh as he starts to leave the house, most likely on his way to a shift at the hospital. bianca looks at you with a grunt and storms off to her room.

the next day

bianca sits in the library pissed off, waiting for her french tutor, cameron. as soon as he arrives she sits up. “hey soo can we make this quick? theres gonna be a huge public break up in the quad in like 15 minutes.” bianca could care less about learning french. if she couldn’t date she at least still wanted to stay in the ‘it’ crowd. “oh uhm yeah sure.. but i was thinking i- uhm- maybe french food-? like me and you? sometime?” the nervous boy fiddles with his organized binder infront of him. “i-i know your dad doesn’t let you date.. but uhm- i thought that if it was for french class..” his nervous sentance sparks an idea inside of bianca. “wait a minute- my dad just came up with a new rule. i can date when my sister does!” the boy infront of her suddenly shakes off his nervous demeanor and starts to get excited. “oh! well in that case! how do you feel about italian food?” bianca puts her hands down on the desk that seperates the two. “slow your roll buddy. minor issue at hand with that. if you hadn’t heard, my sister is a particularly ridiculous breed of loser. she just doesn’t do relationships. i have no idea why. she used to be popular a couple years ago but then she just like- got tired of it or something. some people say it’s cause she’s like a girl lover or something but im pretty sure she’s just incapable of human interaction. plus, shes a bitch.” cameron takes a minute to take in all of what bianca’s just told him, the gears turning in his head to try and piece together a plan of action. “well i mean, there’s gotta be someone into her.. aggressive.. personality?” bianca then puts her hand over his. “you’d really try and find someone to date her for me?” she bats her prissy little eyelashes at him, inevitably making him blush. “y-yeah sure thing.” and with that bianca says her thank you and goodbye and exists the empty library.

unfortunately for cameron, the task of finding a date for y/n stratford was farthest thing from easy. after about an hour of going around asking, and getting a lot of negative backlash, he starts to lose hope. “this is hopeless dude. everyone thinks she’s like evil or something!” he groans sitting down next to his friend on a bench outside. “no no cam listen- you’re just not looking for the right type of person. look at her.” he then points to none other than billie o’connell. she was leaning against a wall, cigarette in hand, conversing with her friend zoe. billie was known as a delinquent. she skipped class, smoked cigarettes, disobeyed most instructions, and didn’t give a damn what other people said. she was the perfect candidate. she was hot- there was no denying that. she was also known for being a huge flirt with the ladies. if anyone was up to the task, it was billie. “ok that’s great but also she’s scary.. and how do we know she’ll even do it? she seems like the type of person to only do things for herself.” cameron makes a valid point, to which his friend micheal puts an arm around him. “you have to learn how to play the game my friend. if there’s one thing all outcasts want, it’s money. now obviously we don’t have any- but if we had a backer then we could get someone else to pay billie thinking that he’s gonna get to be with bianca but in reality you sweep in and steal her away!” as crazy as the planned sounded, it was pretty solid. especially since joey had shown special interest in bianca and definitely had money to spare. after some sweet talking and convincing, cameron and micheal successfully convince joey to take part in their scheme. all joey had to do was ask billie. “yo. o’connell.” joey approaches billie and zoe while they sit out in one of the many courtyards the school has to offer. billie glances at joey, noticing him walking over. she fixes her navy blue baseball cap and smirks. “sorry big shot, i don’t swing that way.” her and zoe chuckle while joey rolls his eyes. “real funny. listen. i’ve got a proposition for you.” billie listens, showing no expression on her face. “see that girl over there? that’s y/n stratford. i want you to go out with her.” billie lets out a hearty laugh, even leaning her head back as she continues to keep her arms crossed and legs spread out. billie’s display of laughter aggravates joey, he lets out a sigh and continues to speak. “look i can’t take her sister out until y/n dates. and she’s impossible. i’ll compensate you for the favor.” the word ‘compensate’ makes billie’s ears turn on, she leans her elbows onto her knees and interlocks her hands. “and how much are you offering exactly?” she glares up at him, asserting her dominance. “twenty bucks.” billie scoffs. “ok fine- thirty bucks.” joey adds on, making billie catch onto his desperation. she then stands up, putting her hands in the pockets of her baggy janco jeans. “well let’s think about this. we go and see a movie and that’s uh- twenty five bucks. we get popcorn and snacks and shit and that brings us to about fifty. then of course she’ll want a drink to wash down the junk food, and by the end of the night you’re looking at about seventy five bucks.” the jock crosses his arms and takes a step closer to billie. “this ain’t a negotiation. take it or leave it.” billie smiles and sighs, glancing over at zoe, then back at joey. “fifty bucks and we’ve got a deal.” and before anyone knew it, joey was taking a fifty dollar bill out of his wallet and aggressively slamming it into billie’s hand.

you’re on the soccer field, sitting down on one of the benches as you get ready to leave practice. you start to change out of your cleats as you feel a presence approach you. “well hey there mamas. how ya doin’?” the sound of billie’s voice, along with the stink of her lit cigarette, pulls you up from what you where previously doing. you take a moment to look her up and down. she’s wearing a bright yellow jersey for some team you didn’t recognize. she paired it with some baggy jeans, beat up nikes, and a navy blue la baseball cap, her neck decorated with various necklaces and chains. you didn’t know much about her, aside from her name and the fact that she was sort of a rebel. after the brief observation, you raise an eyebrow in question at her before answering her question. “sweating like a pig actually. and you?” your tone was a mix between condescending, cocky, and unamused with a bit of sarcasm- your usual tone. billie chuckles and puts out her cigarette. “now there’s a way to get a girl attention, huh?” the comment makes you cringe. that’s the last thing you want. you respond as you roll your eyes. “my mission in life. but obviously i struck your fancy so as you see it works.” the annoyance and sarcasm where basically leaking out of your pores. you grab your soccer bag and start to walk away. of course, billie starts to follow you. “pick you up friday then?” you’re somewhat shocked at her boldness, and her persistence- you’re still annoyed either way though. “oh yeah. friday. of course” you start to speed up your walk and head toward the student parking lot. billie eventually stops following you, taking a moment to just observe you. yes you are a bitch, there was no denying that. you’re dismissive, arrogant, closed off- but you’re also smart. confusing. beautiful. a puzzle for billie to try and solve. and billie is always up for a challenge, especially when there’s money involved.

to be continued..

[angstywaifu]

Dain "Eyes On Me" Aetos

Summary: After an intense day of training Dain is giving you some one on one training despite not coddling first years. A/N: I never thought I'd see the day I'd be writing Dain smut.... but here we are. Warnings: THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR ONYX STORM. DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN'T READ ONYX STORM. 18+ Minors DNI. Fingering. Oral F receiving. Unprotected Sex.

Masterlist | Links

“Again.” Carr commands, motioning with his hands for me to attack again.

Out of all the changes to our learning, I couldn’t deny this had been my favourite. Well, it was till I manifested a signet and now had to participate. For weeks I had sat in the seats looking down into the wide open area. Watching in awe as everyone used their signets, learning how to use them against each other. It was amazing to watch.

But now I had fire at my disposal, which now deemed me ready to participate in this class. And just my luck, Xaden wasn’t here to teach it. And Carr had told Garrick to step aside. Which I guess made sense as he did teach us how to use our signets. But I much preferred Garrick’s approach to this class than Carr’s. Especially after he told Bodhi to stop messing with peoples signets. Someone was bound to get hurt soon.

Carr had taken a somewhat annoying interest in me due to us having the same signet. He seemed to push me more than others. Expecting me to already be proficient with my signet. Which was a lot to expect from someone whose signet was not even two weeks old.

And now he was putting me up against a third year who had the same signet and was far more adept than I was. We circle each other, eyeing each other off to try find an opening. He steps forward, raising his hands to attack. I panic and stumble back raising my arms to defend myself, a flame barely flickering in my hands.

“Focus. You can’t afford to do this in battle.” Carr snaps at me from where he stands watching us.

I do my best to calm my nerves, raising my hands again. This time a stronger flame coming out, but it’s nothing compared to what my opponent sends me way. A thick stream of fire extends from his hands towards me. A yell escaping my lips as I stumble backwards, tripping over my own feet. Just before it reaches me, the wall of flames disappears as if extinguished. I look up to see a Bodhi my section leader walking over to us as Carr storms over to him.

“You lot need to stop interfering!” He bellows in Bodhi’s face before gesturing to a second year to step onto the mat.

“Then make this safer.” Bodhi snaps back as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“It won’t be safer in the real world. They need to learn here how dangerous it is. If they can’t survive here, then they have no chance out there.” I swear a vein is about to burst in Carr’s neck with how prominent they are.

“She’s a fucking first year.” Another voice adds as they join the conversation. My breath catches in my throat as Dain steps up next to Bodhi. “She’s barely had her signet a week and you’re throwing her up against someone who’s had three years to perfect it.”

“It’s the only way she will learn.” Carr snaps as he turns his attention to Dain who doesn’t even blink an eye.

“I can think of far better and safer ways to teach someone to use their signet than this. Find. Another. Way.” The way Dain’s voice drops as me seeing him in a whole new light.

We’d been friends before he left for the Riders Quadrant. I wasn’t as close to him as Violet, but I knew him well enough. And the man I see is a far cry from the boy who was always so kind and cautious around me. Making sure I was ok and understood the training or lessons we were taught.

Carr just scoffs in his face. “I’d like to see you do a better job.”

Carr pivots, heading back to the mat where the two cadets stand waiting. Dain turns towards me, his features softening as he takes me in.

“You ok?” He asks as he steps over to me.

I left out a breath I didn’t realise I was holding and slowly nod. “Yeah, I’ll be ok.” I tell him.

He smiles at me but a shout pulls our attention back to the mat. Just like before the third year sends a blast of fire towards a shrieking second year who scrambles backwards to get away. And just like before Carr does nothing to intervene as the flames get closer and closer. I cover my mouth as I watch in horror as she screams and drops to her hands and knees, the flames getting within inches of her.

”Wield! Defend yourself!” Is all Carr yells at her, not even trying to stop what’s happening.

She splays her hand wide on the mat and screams. Moments later the colour drains from the mat beneath her, turning it a grey colour. Dain reaches out and grabs me by the upper arms, spinning me around so my back is to the girl as Carr rushes to her.

”Eyes on me.” Dain says as he cradles my head in his hands.

I nod up at him, doing my best to focus on his eyes. But I know her death comes when his hands tense on my face, his whole body going rigid.

The rest of the day goes by with all of us essentially going through the motions. Death was common in the Quadrant. None of us were strangers to it. But having someone turn right in front of us was a different story. Despite that I found myself back and training in the gym with Dain. Today just proved I needed to get stronger. Needed to strengthen my signet. If not, I could become desperate. I groan as I push myself into a seating position on the mat where Dain had thrown me. He’d made it look so easy. The moves almost second nature to him. Which they were. He’d been training his whole life. I had not.

“Come on Y/N, get up and fight me. Use your signet.” He commands, his wingleader tone slipping in.

I force myself to stand, every muscle in my body screaming after flying, signet training and now this. My body feels like it’s about to ignite as it reaches for my power. It’s as if my body knows it’s the only way to defend myself right now.

I shake my head at him. “I can’t.” I tell him, my voice breaking slightly.

“You can. You can do this.” He tells me as he settles into another fighting stance.

He doesn’t give me a chance to respond as he charges at me. I instinctively pull at my power, flames rising in my hands in an effort to shield myself. Dain dodges it with ease, side stepping the small wall of flame I’ve conjured. I turn and aim the wall at him again but falter when I watch him panic slightly and stumble back.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” I cry out as I rush to him.

But Dain is still in training mode, using my lowered defences to rush at me, tackling me to the mat, pinning me to the mat.

”Don’t be sorry. This is exactly why we’re here.” He tells me gruffly as he looms over me.

”But I’m going to hurt you.” I get out between ragged breaths.

He raise a hand to cup my cheek, a smirk curling at the edges of Dain’s lips, his soft brown eyes flashing with something I can’t quite put my finger on.

”Gods, don’t I know it.” He murmurs as he lowers his face to mine.

I gasp as his lips brush softly over mine, as if he’s testing my reaction. When I don’t pull back he slowly presses his lips to mine. My heart starts hammering in my chest as I tilt my head, deepening the kiss as we both lean into it. I feel Dain’s breath hitch as I slide my hands up his chest, fisting the material of his shirt in my hands. His hands skim down my body, his fingers skimming along my waist causing me to shiver at his touch. He kisses my cheeks and tilt before moving to my neck, a moan escaping my lips before I can stop it. But that’s all it takes to break whatever restraint Dain still had. His hands tighten on my waist as he flips us over so I’m straddling his hips as he looks up at me.

I don’t know what spurs me to do it, here in the gym of all places where anyone could walk in, but I grip the bottom of my shirt in my hands, yanking the material over my head and discarding it next to us. Dain clearly doesn’t care where we are either as he sits up, pulling his own shirt from his body. My hands instantly fall to his chest, tracing over the defined lines of muscle like I’ve always wanted to. Dain’s body shivers at my touch, his muscles tensing as I trace over them. I gasp as Dain’s hands trace up and down my sides as he leans in kisses along my shoulder.

“Gods you’re beautiful.” He murmurs against my neck as his hands grip and knead my hips.

I blush at his words as he leans back into kiss me, feeling him smile into the kiss, the movement casing my lips to part for him. My fingers tangle in his hair as of tongues meet in a slow intoxicating rhythm, trying to pull him closer. I needed more of him. Needed him to consume me. He wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me to him as he leans forward, lowering me back down to lay on the mat.

He breaks the kiss to trace his hands down my chest and stomach, coming to rest on the waist band of the training pants I’d worn. He hesitates, his brown eyes staring into me. I nod at him, knowing he’s waiting for permission to go further. And I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. He hooks his fingers into the waist band, yanking my pants and underwear off in one smooth movement, and I was very glad I’d gone without my boots for our training session tonight.

I go to push up, reaching for the waistband of his own pants, put he pushes me back down to the mat. “Not yet.” He tells me as he leans over me.

I places a quick kiss to my mouth before he kisses down my neck, to my chest and then slowly down my stomach. I go to clamp my legs shut as I realise where his heading, but his hands fly out, keeping my legs open for him as he moves his lips further and further down. I gasp, neck arching off the mat as he places the first kiss between my legs.

“Oh gods.” I cry out as one of my hands grips his hair tightly, causing him to groan against me which elects another moan from me.

My whole body arches off the mat as his tongue swirls around my clit before dipping lower. His mouth alternating between licking and sucking. His movements are slow but deliberate, building the tension in me with each pass of his tongue. I gasp as I feel him push a finger inside me, my eyes squeezing shut as he adds another and thrusts them in and out, curling them with every other thrust.

I whimper as he removes them from me, but look up to see standing above me, quickly shoving down his pants. This was so unlike him. To give into the moment, to not care that anyone could walk in at any moment. But I wasn’t mad. I wanted Dain. And he wanted me. Maybe not forever, but right now I didn’t care. We were in the middle of a war essentially, none of us knowing if today would be our last.

I can help but trail my eyes over him as he kneels back between my legs, hovering over me as he places his hands either side of my head. I feel him prod against my entrance, sucking in a sharp breath knowing what’s coming. Dain isn’t my first, but something about this feels different. More intimate than any other time.

He rolls his hips, the tip entering me as we both groan at the feeling. He pushes further in, my body arching off the mat as I squeeze my eyes shut as pleasure washes over me, Dain feeling like he was made to be inside me. He slowly thrusts his hips, working his length in till he’s fully inside me. His hand caresses my cheek, my eyes fluttering open to meet his.

”Eyes on me. Think you can do that?” He commands.

I smile and nod up at him before he rolls his hips into mine, my fingers digging into his forearms as I try to anchor myself. He starts off slow, but it doesn’t take long for Dain to pick up his pace, hips sips slamming into mine. I have to force myself to keep my eyes open, especially when he hits that perfect spot inside me. Fuck, it felt so good. I moan loudly when he shifts my legs to lay against his chest, raising my hips off the mat slightly, causing him to hit an angle he wasn’t hitting before. I can’t help it when my eyes fluttering shut as I arch off the mat.

“What did I say Y/N?” Dain practically growls, causing my eyes to fly open. A new wave of pleasure coursing through me at the look in his eyes.

“Eyes. On. You.” I manage to gasp out as he thrusts harder.

”Good girl.” He praises as he leans forward and wraps his arms around me.

“F-fuck.” I moan out as he shifts us so I’m sitting in his lap, chest flush against his as I rest my forehead against his.

My nails dig into this shoulder as I start trembling in his arms, my body wanting to tip over the edge and come undone. So close. I’m so gods damn close. Shit. I wasn’t going to last much longer like this. This angle was easily going to be my undoing. And by how heavy Dain’s breathing has gotten I’m sure he wont be far behind me. I wind my fingers into his hair, pulling on his brown curls earning my a moan that rumbles in his chest, his eyes darkening as they look up at me. I meet Dain thrust for thrust, both of us panting heavily as we get closer and closer. I cry out as I tip over the edge, finally breaking eye contact with Dain as I tilt my head back as I shake and tremble in his arms. His cradles my head against his neck, I feel like the world is flipping as he places me back down on the mat. Dain’s thrust turn erratic as he slams into me, prolonging my orgasm as he chases his end. His hips falter as he groans, falling forward as he catches himself with his hands placed either side of my head. The only sound in the room is both of us panting as we catch our breath. Neither of us willing to break the silence of what’s just happened.

Finally Dain moves, rolling to the side as he pulls me with him an cradles me in his arms. His fingers lazily tracing patterns up and down my side as we come down from our highs. I turn towards him to say something, but the sound of the door jiggling has us both sitting up right. I know we didn’t lock that door when we came in, meaning in our rush Dain must have managed to lock it with lesser magic. But that means whoever is on the other side can open it with that to. Dain rushes up grabbing our scattered clothes before pulling me up as we rush over to them small gym attached to the gym just as the doors open.

”That was close.” I gasp out as he hands me my clothes.

”Too close. We’re never doing that here again.” He informs me as he hastily pulls on his pants.

”You plan on there being more?” I ask, trying to hide my smirk as I turn to pull on my own clothes.

”Many. Just not that public. Now hurry up before they walk in on you half dressed.” He tells me, his Wingleader voice slipping back in.

[old-type-40]

Robert Blackman designed the uniforms for both TNG and DS9 and his comments (x) on the differences speak to the nature of each series:

The thing that interests me is the reversal on The Next Generation. Starfleet uniforms have a very dignified and ennobling kind of appearance with that very vertical, perfectly done, military-esque kind of structure. In Deep Space Nine, we've taken it in another direction. It's very utilitarian. It's a cross between a NASA jumpsuit and a mechanics jumpsuit. They're very loose fitting and they have those t-shirts, and some people roll up their sleeves so they look like men at work. I like the notion of a kind of looser and more accessible design. There's something about the dignity that was just so wonderful in The Next Generation, but it's a little bit standoffish. There's a kind of propriety about it, and now we've got these guys who kind of open their jackets and their shirts and push their sleeves up and get down to it. It's a very hands-on existence. It's fascinating to me". (Captains' Logs Supplemental - The Unauthorized Guide to the New Trek Voyages, p 131)

And I always appreciated how the production team of DS9 made certain to strictly adhere to this difference between station personnel and ship personnel. But then that all got f-ed up by Voyager and the TNG movies.

Deep Space Nine ruled constantly giving characters to interact with different pairings. Master of the A/B plot structure. Is this episode about an ethical dilemma causing big debate around a conference room table? No. We’re following Odo and Garak being catty bitches at brunch today. Also O’Brien is getting tortured again but what can you do.

[neoplatinum]

double shot | yoo 'karina' jimin

summary: co-manager by day, seductress by night

pairing: co-manager!stripper!karina x reader

themes: work, strippers, money, sexual themes

wc: 2.5k

“the copier is jammed, could you take a look at it?” you and everyone else in that room knew that the copier being jammed was way below your paygrade to fix, but given that budget cuts have recently been made, there’s little to no allocation to hire someone to fix it. so why not call you, manager of the human resources division to fix it up.

you grumble a bit to yourself before walking right over to the storage unit, grabbing an old toolbox and soon caught yourself fiddling with the large machine. you can already spot the issue, jammed paper stuck in the feeder. you try your best to yank it out of the tray. It just wouldn’t budge, even with a jiggle and pushing the tray around didn’t help. 

taking out your phone, you bit it between your teeth, trying your best to get a better angle of the jam. it wasn’t even put into the right tray. everyone knows tray 3 is the correct one to put the papers in. with a huff you give a bit more effort, pushing the paper in and yanking it out. nearly knocking yourself out with sheer force.

“i do not get paid enough to deal with this too.” you think to yourself, and mostly thinking about the sweet and warm croissant sitting at your desk, ready for you to devour. you nearly lose fall forward into the machine when you hear a quiet “hello.” almost too quiet that it would blend into the cacophony of phones ringing, the coffee machine running and the low hum of the air conditioner.

you stick your head out of the printer, and before you is one of the most gorgeous women you’ve seen in your life. adorned with thick rimmed black glasses and plump red lips to match. her eyes peer into you and flit between you and the machine.

“do you need help with that?” she offers, in a neutral tone. 

you’ve never seen her around before. she looks put together though, more put together than the new intern your company just hired.

you manage to pull yourself together with what little core strength you have and duck out of the machine. making way for her to inspect the paper jam, and taking the phone of your mouth. realizing how ridiculous you look under this light.

“sure, go for it.” you offer. stuffing your phone into your pockets. and watching this newcomer attempt to fix the machine you’ve been wrestling for the past minute. she’s definitely got more core strength than you, balancing perfectly with tall heels and maneuvering herself with ease. you spot the company id hanging in a lanyard around her neck. mirroring the one that you have to wear every day in order to enter and exit the building. 

with ease she manages to pull out the pesky paper, and holds it up triumphantly at you. a warm smile across her face. you offer the same back.

“thanks for your help, the printer’s always given me far too much trouble.” she chuckles at that, throwing the paper into a nearby wastebasket before grabbing a box, seemingly filled with desk items and a colorful mug with crayon shin-chan across it.

“oh, let me help you with that.” you offer, making quick strides to pick up her office supplies, to which she lets you. “are you new here?”

“yes and no.” she offers.

“that’s an interesting response, what do you mean by that?” you say, walking side by side into the open space. rows of computers and laptops filled with people’s personal belongings and you find yourself scanning for an open space. certainly she’s a new hire that upper management hasn’t informed you. upper management has a tendency to forget telling you updates until it’s far too late.

“well, i just transferred to this department. downsizing as mr. shim put it nicely.” you nod with understanding, there’s been a lot of recent changes to the company, and it’s core message with new management. 

the budget cuts, downsizing, replacement of several executive board members. it’s hard to say if you even get to keep your job, a lot of employees have had to take severance packages, even in your department.

“i see, well, welcome to our department, i’m the manager for human resources in this region.” her eyes sparkle a bit, she opens her mouth to say something but it’s quickly silenced by mr. shim’s light and squeaky voice.

“miss. yoo! i see you’ve already met our manager here!” he says with wide eyes and hands clasped together. like he’s presenting everyone gifts here.

“yes, mr. shim. i just met them.” she stiffens up, keeping a professional distance from him.

“that’s great! you two need to build camaraderie here. is that her stuff?” mr. shim beelines towards you, grabbing the box of desk supplies out of your hand. and walking away. both you and ms. yoo walk towards the empty office next to yours. he places her box down and even takes out the shin-chan mug from her box.

setting it down proudly before turning to you.

“see, we recently had to merge ms.yoo’s human resource department from yeonnam-dong to here. so there’ll be a lot of co-managing you two will need to figure out.” he explains more coldly now that he’s out of earshot of most employees. you start to feel a headache brewing at the information. 

mr.shim has always felt that telling you important company updates is a tedious task, so he always does it at the very last second. just last month he sprung a presentation to the company executives onto you two days before it was due. you nearly had an ulcer from the amount of stress you were put under, but you grit through the task, as you always do.

“mr. shim, could you explain that again?” you ask, balling your hand into a fist in your pocket. ms. yoo looks away, already feeling the tension in the room.

“you and ms. yoo will now be co-managing the company’s human resources department together.” he says dryly, probably already daydreaming about taking the rest of the day off to relax while you have to manage to magically fix the company.

“mr. shim, are you serious, what happened to our five division managers?” you offer with more bite to your tone. ms. yoo fidgets with her dress shirt, unable to bear this uncomfortable conversation.

“three were let go yesterday, and just to let you know, i vouched for you in there. it was between you and mr. jung.” he scowls a bit before putting a more professional smile in front of ms. yoo. “now, if you’ll excuse me, i have to return to my desk. i trust that you two will sort out this merger.”

with swift steps, he beelines towards the elevators. making his always far too quick exit from your floor. you stare out of the room, letting your shoulders finally slump down with exhaustion, and it’s not even 9 in the morning.

“i’m sorry about that.” you hear quietly, you turn your head back towards ms. yoo. her sheepish expression making you all the more exhausted. not only has mr. shim burdened you, now he’s burdened ms. yoo too.

“no need to apologize, i should apologize really. welcome to our division! i hope we get along well.” you offer a bow with your hand out, she shakes it firmly and offers you the same bow.

“mr. shim can be a lot.” she remarks quietly, slowly taking out desk supplies to adorn her office. 

“yes, he really can.” you say, helping ms. yoo set up her desk. taking out staplers and cute pens from her box,and putting them across her desk. outside of the office you can hear incoming workers from other divisions filing in, each with their own office supplies and curious eyes at joining your team.

ms. yoo stares at you while you stare outside.

--

you offer to host a division team lunch, bringing in all the new and familiar faces with you to a local spot. where your favorite halmeoni cooks her famous soondubu-jigae.

“halmeoni, these are my co-workers!” you shout when you walk in, ms. yoo trailing behind you. examining the restaurant as you talk with her excitedly. she watches the way you offer vitamins to your grandmother, a soft smile on her face.

all your co-workers begin filing in, everyone taking seats around a long table. loud group conversations sparking between different coworkers. you finally take the only open seat next to ms. yoo. offering her a small smile as she scoots for you to sit down.

“so this is your halemoni’s restaurant?” she asks over the loud conversation. 

“yes, she’s the best chef i know. trust me, one bite of her soondubu and you’ll never want to try another place!” you say with excitement. she laughs before looking through the menu.

“meal is on me today, welcome to the team!” you offer with a large smile.

a roar of cheers erupt among your coworkers, mainly the new faces. and soon everyone’s nervous mood is being settled with contentment. you don’t even spot the warm eyes from your co-manager.

--

“good night everyone, see you all tomorrow!” you hear from various coworkers, taking a quick glance up from the stacks of paper work surrounding you, you can see most people have already left. and the sun’s set long ago. you peep through the blinds and notice the bright street lamps and the busy commute back home.

having a quick stretch before walking to grab another coffee, you recount your day. you’ve once again managed to turn a very sour morning into one that’s turned out quite okay. and ms. yoo is an efficient manager, you can see why she was kept in the company. she’s smart, quick and diligent–much like yourself.

you begin to drink your coffee, when you’re pulled out of your thoughts.

“you know it’s not good to drink coffee after 3 right? and certainly not at 6.” she smirks at you, grabbing some hot water for her shin-chan mug.

“well i know it’s not good, but i have to get through this paperwork for tomorrow.” you offer, drinking more of the lukewarm coffee in your mug. you can even see the rings of coffee staining the sides.

“you work yourself to death here.” she offers, turning to you once more. “how long have you been a manager?”

“2 years.” you say in between sips, already feeling the caffeine giving you that push to keep going. “how about you?”

“1 year.” she offers.

“impressive, most people don’t last more than six months here”, you say. giving your mug up as a small cheers to her.

“i could say the same to you, you’re the most efficient manager here.” she says looking back down at her water.

“mhm, that is true. even got an award for it ‘best manager 2023’, i can still see mr. jung’s face when i received the award.” you laugh at the memory.

she laughs and turns away, “well i’m done for the day, so i’ll see you tomorrow, co-manager.” and with a wink she leaves the company kitchen. you stare at her retreating figure, and then back down at your coffee.

--

with a whiskey on ice in one hand and arms languidly laying on the armchair, you stare at the stage in front of you. lights adorning the main stage, and velvet dark red curtains hiding the backstage, a fog machine supplying a steady stream of fog around the base fo the stage. leering men and women all sitting around. there’s already a few girls performing on other stages, but everyone knows the main stage is where to be. they always place their top girl onto the main stage.

you glance left and right, looking at the other performers, none of which that intrigue you, instead, you focus on the disco reflecting the colors like a kaleidoscope. minjeong grins next to you, a martini in hand and she toys with the olive. 

“did you hear they have a new main girl tonight?” minjeong says as she sets her glass down, adjusting her tie a bit.

“i didn’t, you know i don’t get invested in the girls, i just want a performance.” you reply. she gives you a quick eye roll, before fishing through her pant pocket for a flyer.

“that’s what i said too, until i saw giselle.” she says, unfolding the flyer in hand. you can see in big bold serif letters. ‘Friday Grandeur: Pink Karina” and below with a headshot of a woman with bold dark eyeliner, and beautiful cat-like eyes, black lingerie emphasizing her bold pink hair.

“giselle says she just moved into town, but she’s the real deal.” minjeong offers with a giddy smile. sliding the flyer into blazer pocket. watching the way you scoff at her, sure the girl was drop dead gorgeous, but aren’t they all supposed to be.

then the announcer comes through, “welcome to the stage, for the very first time, miss pink karina.” and the music fades in. you stare at the stage in expectation, watching the way the lights all shine into one spot, right in between the curtains. and with sultry music playing, you watch her emerge from backstage. her bold pink hair catching your eye, and then seeing the way her eyes are low and a grin that sits across her face.

her figure approaches the stage, and even in the smoke you can see her beautiful silhouette as walks center stage. she’s in a gorgeous black lingerie that fits to her figure like a glove. the flyer does her no justice, and for the second time in the week, your jaw drops at the sight of gorgeous women. her legs are long and strong, her heels accentuating the length. her curvaceous figure leaves much to imagine, her long fingernails look like they could rake down your body and leave trails of marks. she seems to be an immediate favorite, rallying cheers and hoots. each one leaving an even more sour taste on your mouth. like rapid dogs they adore her like she fell from the sky.

you uncross and cross your legs again, watching the way she moves across the stage, not forgetting to give each and every viewer a memory to savor. and she reaches the main stage with the golden pole and her eyes scan the crowd, eventually landing on you and she looks like she opened her mouth, but you couldn’t tell with the way your eyes were locked onto hers. she watches you a bit more before continuing to circle the stage.

“she seems to like you.” minjeong whispers through the music.

“no she doesn’t, if she likes me then she likes everyone.” you scoff at minjeong, waving her off as she continues to watch the pink-haired woman. you return your vision to her as well, taking a small sip of the whiskey in your cup.

you relax your tense shoulders, and watch her figure retreat to the other side of the stage.

karina…

you take another sip of your whiskey, watching her closely.

--

a/n: part 2? stay safe and stay healthy everyone!

[1chaerry]

Inferno's Promise

summary: a million chances, a million lives, one last try, Ace can't seem to understand why this new recruit keeps running from him and everyone on board, always sticking close to the nurses and creating remedies for Whitebeard but he had always been a curious one.

word count : 4k

Disclaimer: Reader is called 'Saram' meaning 'Human/Person'

Happy valentine's day to the love of my life, Portgas D. Ace

Also, special thanks to @thebunnednun cuz the Pizza Roll fic made me motivated to finally get the first part out!!

Ace didn't understand why this new recruit always seemed to be running away from the crewmates when they attempted to talk to her. She always seemed on guard, doing her job diligently, never making mistakes, always knowing what to do and where to do it without even being told. She was supposed to be a nurse but was working under all the Commanders. She never asked anything, never spoke more than needed.

He didn't like it.

People who were on the crew were like family, warmth and ease, sun rays and salty seas, they were not supposed to feel like the harsh rain and cold winters, gloomy winds and tangy rotten fruit.

He knew the feeling of rotten fruit too well and seeing someone like that left a bad taste in his mouth. It itched at him, she always was on the move. Always moving, always staying away from him.

"Saram, get the barrels!" One of the older crewmen yelled out across the deck as he tied the cargo, Ace found himself looking for the woman unconsciously, perched against the railing and eyeing the working crewmates, his eyes landed on the woman, pushing the barrel with her hands, she was rolling it, at first it was strange, the ways she used to solve chores but now it was seen as efficient.

Dark eyes followed her movement, fingers tapping, drumming against the wooden railing quietly with a light tune, hat tipped a bit forward as his eyes tracked her movements. She reminded him of a fox, cautious and alert, she always kept looking around, never one to settle in knew place, yet she did many tasks in short time spans.

"Saram, we ran out of the medicine again, make some more when you're free." Tate's voice called out, the hot pink uniform wearing nurse walking across the deck towards the plainly dressed woman, Saram immediately looked back, eyes going over Tate's silhouette. The former simply nodded in reply to Tate's words.

The drumming of his fingers continued against the wood continued, a calm look on his face as he eyed her, his jaw ticked for a moment as he watched her quietly slip through the crowds of people and get lost in the ship.

His fingers stopped.

And he walked away, the deck had become boring when she walked away.

Marco was sharp.

He picked up on things faster than most of his brothers, as 1st Division Commander he had more responsibilities than anyone under Whitebeard, eyes and senses always sharp and sensitive. Crystal blues watched Saram attentively, the way she was moving fluidly around the deck, so natural, so perfect - new recruits should not be so familiar with the way tasks happened on the Moby Dick, so at ease with the work.

Marco tilted his head slightly, watching her movements, clipboard in hand as his eyes tracked her above the clipboard, he knew that Whitebeard knew that Saram was not some 'new' recruit, she was quiet, spoken when required, understanding tasks without having to be shown and sometimes even shown, she was so one with the crew that it threw Marco off.

Lips tugged into a smirk as he watched Ace eye her calculatingly, Fire Fist's eyes shadowed by his hat, Marco knew that look, the look of interest and intrigue, a scary thing when it's from Ace. Eternal life and immortality, Marco was the embodiment of this, he took pride in it, pride in who he was, yet seeing the way Saram was blending in like a puzzle piece with the crew, he was beginning to be proud of his skills of deciphering people and their potential as well.

A hum left his throat as he ticked off more tasks, blue eyes going over the papers, Tate walked over to him as he looked through the crate piles, a simple look of greeting from the nurse before she scanned the deck for someone, Marco glanced from the papers and watched as the head nurse called the recruit.

"Saram, we ran out of the medicine again, make some more when you're free."

Saram gave a quick nod before walking through the doors and leaving the deck, Marco's glanced at the side where Ace was standing, light flickers of flames around his drumming fingertips, he raised an eyebrow discreetly to himself as he watched the Second Division Commander push himself off the railing and walk away too.

"Drumming fingers? You're in deep, huh, Ace?" Marco murmured to himself with a contemplative smile, reeking of ice and warm sun, sour grapes and sweet citrine.

The taste of iron lingered on her tongue as she chewed on the candy given to her by Tate, her hands churning the medicine, adding drops of gold liquid into the vial as she chewed quietly, the candy was sweet, maybe watermelon flavored too. The infirmary's bleak walls seemed warm and inviting, the sweet candy in her mouth melted slowly. Saram stood by the table as she mixed the medicine, this was her main task, the main reason she was able to join the Whitebeard Pirates, her medicine and the way it was curing Whitebeard.

"The candy is so sweet!" Marie squealed quietly as Tate handed her another one, the bright pink uniform of the nurses seemed to fit perfectly with the infirmary colors, Saram paused and looked around for a tube of silver liquid. Before she could move away from her work station, a tan hand placed the vial in front of her, dull eyes looked up and she took the vial with a quiet thanks, Tate smiled, eyes skimming over the medicine she was preparing.

"You have really steady hands." Marie inputs as she looked dover Tate's shoulder, "Even our hands aren't that steady and we're nurses."

"Your hands are too unstable for that dummy."

Saram paused for a moment, brief and unseen, before nodding and resuming her work, Sophie brought over empty vials for Saram to fill the medicine with. Tate stood and watched with interested eyes as the woman deftly arranged everything and prepared everything properly, so smooth, so natural, for the nurses, the woman fit in just right with them, she knew what to do and where what was, barely asking questions or throwing tantrums or complaining like the crewmen who tended to do it often.

Eventually she was left alone by them after she handed over the medicine to them for storing and administering to Whitebeard, she sighed and looked around the infirmary for a moment, the sunlight coming through the porthole window, the beds were made neatly and the whole place was empty, smelling of disinfectant and sterilizing ointment.

"Maybe, a few minutes...." She murmured and went to the very last bed at the end of the room, right by the porthole window and lay down, pulling the curtain around the bed. She didn't pull the blanket over her or move anything, quietly lying on top of the blanket and bed, not even on the pillow, eyes flickering, the warm sun rays crossed against her face and arms, her eyes closed as she fell into slumber, promising herself to wake up in a few minutes, there was still so much to do.

Saram didn't have the time to rest.

Not when there were so many lives dependent on her.

Mastering all three types of Haki enable Ace to protect himself better and be more alert, Observational Haki allowed him to find people more easily and stay more alert, he'd have to thank Thatch for that. A warm grin planted itself on his face as he walked through the hallways, smiling at his brothers, freckles face drawing smiles from everyone, Ace always brought smiles in everyone's face around him, to him they were true, for them he was the sun, warm and inviting, safe and protective.

"Are you snooping for Saram again?" Marie teased him as he wandered around the sub-infirmaries, the infirmary area was expanded after a tough battle and many wounded cremates, the infirmary area was a different section of the ship to accommodate the large crew, the girl smiled as she walked out of the storage area and Ace rubbed his nape sheepishly, feeling caught.

"Nothing like thaaaat." He drawled but Marie chuckled, she was younger than him and many of the crew members but she was also observing, she picked up on things faster, Marco and Tate praised her on those skills which she took pride in. Ace didn't fool her, he was more that snooping for the new recruit, he was absolutely smitten, everyone already knew, he didn't know that everyone knew of his new profound affections for the new recruit who barely spoke more than needed and had not interacted more than required, it was love at first sight for him, even if he didn't know, they knew that from the first moment Saram arrived on this ship and offered to heal Whitebeard, who was now much more healthy than before and more active, his skin more bright.

"Main infirmary, don't be loud." She smiled and walked away, Ace helping her with the boxes, Makino taught him good manners, this was a good manner, help people, be kind, be nice, be polite, show humility, be firm but soft. He nodded his head and walked away from her at the crossroad of the hallway, the lights hitting against his bare skin as his boots hit the wooden ground with soft taps. The lower levels of the ship were cooler, especially the infirmary section of the ship because the medicine and equipment kept here, it was a refuge for the crew on extremely hot days, only until Tate and Marco and the others came looking annoyed and scolding and driving everyone away from the area because of the crowd.

His hand pushed open the door to the main infirmary, the one where Marco worked more, the one which was used regularly, the one where a certain someone often hid away. Black boots slightly thump against the floor, quiet echoes radiating in the room, his eyes take in the seemingly empty infirmary, it was cold and felt uninviting, no matter how much anyone came here, how much he came here, Ace could never find the infirmary warm, it was always cold and unwelcoming.

Ace's ears picked up the sound of quiet snores, barely even there, if he didn't have observational Haki, he would not have noticed, quietly and nimbly, he walked towards the source of the sound. His steps slowed as he walked over to the last bed, the curtains drawn, hand slowly raising up to the fabric and pulling it slightly away, breathe catching in his throat as the sight of Saram came into view, the warm rays of light fell upon her slumbering figure almost like art, frecks of light across her, hair tousled and sprawled around her head as she breathes in and out slowly, quietly, hands near her face, loosely clenched as she was curled into her self slightly.

Time stood still for a moment as he stared at her, the sight so quiet and peaceful that took away the cold of the infirmary, his eyes were trained on her face, noting how tired she looked, everyone, he, himself, saw her as this strong wall that would never budge, no sign of wear or chips, Saram had painted herself as someone untouchable, unreachable, someone warm, someone tangy, someone dependable, someone kind: but how was she really?

The freckled fire wielder walked soundlessly towards her, the curtain falling back into place as he stood by her head, wordlessly he sat down on the bed's empty space beside her head, blocking the sun's rays from hitting her face, he didn't realize that his body was instinctively providing shade for her, it felt almost natural for him to do so, to sit and cover her from the harshness, to offer comfort to Saram. Ace's hand shifted, brushing away the hair framing her face and letting it linger near her cheek, his eyes softened, face loosening as she snuggled her face against his palm in her sleep.

His body was naturally warmer than others due to his devil fruit, skin always radiating heat, his crewmates would complain when he smothered them in the hot summer, whining or groaning at the hot warmth, but Saram seemed, in her sleep, to seek the warmth of his palm more, the length of his arm was like a source of warmth for her, her fingers and hands loosely pulling it close to her face and body. Ace could not bring himself to pull away from her touch, not when she looked so peaceful and at ease and childlike.

"Who are you, Saram?" Ace murmured, voice quiet, unlike his usual loud, boisterous self.

The sound of the ship's machinery echoing around them, the sound of the crew, the sound of the crates moving, the sound of Whitebeard's laugh - everything faded away into silence and only remained the sound of waves against the ship and around them. Everything faded away as he sat there, his arm held by Saram in her sleep, the warm rays of the sun on his bare back, the Whitebeard tattoo highlighted and reflected in the mirror on the wall, it reflected a picture of a tattoo, a freckled back, a man and woman.

And so Ace sat there, watching her with warm, kind eyes as she slept, lips pulled into a smile as she snuggled into his palm.

"I hope you're having a good dream." He smiled and brushed away the stray hairs on her face.

It was warm.

Warm and comforting, the smell of smoke and sun and salt, the feeling of heat and love and a foundation, she knew this, knew this feeling, knew him.

"Someday, I'll make you my wife, Saram!"

Shadowed eyes, a big bright smile, freckled skin, the freckles on his body and the tattoo on his bicep.

"When I come back, I'll never leave."

Orange hat, red bead necklace, striped thread bracelet, black boots and the sound of familiar laughter.

"I love you, Saram."

Starry nights, stolen kisses on the Striker, Deuce teasing them, the sound of waves, the feeling of salt water on her skin and the heat under the moon.

"Thank you for loving me."

She woke up with a gasp, her lungs unstable, throat closing as she sat up, rubbing her neck, breathing, trying to force herself to breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe! Cold sweat dripped down her skin as the cold moonlight fell upon her skin, the warm infirmary clashing against her iced skin, her ears were ringing, her vision blurry and swimming, she needed to get out, she needed to breathe, she needed to move—

"Saram?"

Her head moved instinctively before her eyes moved up, the ringing stopping, vision clearing as the flame walked closer to her, the warmth heating her skin as the cold moonlight hid away, she could breathe now, she could breathe now, she wasn't drowning.

"You okay?"

She didn't trust herself to speak, something was clogging her airways, she was drowning mere seconds ago, she was doing just fine, she was living, she was working, how could she fall apart like? She hadn't touched Fire Fist even a little bit. Why was her body and mind crashing again? Why? Why? Like every time when they touched, why was her soul crashing when she didn't even touch him this time.

"Marco, did Ace come in here by any chance?" She whispered to the doctor who stopped for a moment, his eyes narrowing, blue flames flickered around him for a moment, his instincts screaming.

"I think he did."

Ace leaned against the railing as he stared at the starry skies, eyes trained on the stars in the blue and black sea, his mind was full of Saram, her eyes, the way she worked, the way she solved problems wordlessly, the way she attended to Whitebeard, the way she slept — his face reddened at that thought, that's no good, going down that road of thoughts was bad.

"You like her." Haruta grinned as he perched onto the barrel beside the flame user, caressing his own mug of alcohol as he watched the freckled sun in amusement, "Really, really like her. Love her, I might even say."

"I don't love Saram." Ace retorted.

"I didn't say Saram."

Ace froze before chuckling, shaking his head, "Too witty, Haruta, too witty."

"Gonna tell her?"

"No, I think.." Ace paused as he thought back to the moment in the infirmary, "I think she already knows."

"I didn't ask whether she knows or not, I asked whether you will tell her or not."

"Don't rush me!"

"Might be good to hurry before someone else takes her away — ack!"

Haruta yelped as Ace burst into flames, literally, the latter himself looked surprised of his actions, he panicked and attempted to go back to normal, he pats his body, frantically trying to douse the fire, Haruta cackles loudly, drinking the alcohol, "Fire boy is in love."

"Go sleep!"

Turns out, Ace would have to face his feelings sooner than he had thought, if the situation at the moment indicated anything. He sighed as Whitebeard assigned him onto a mission with Saram, alone, far away, to act as a couple, a married couple. He had felt his heart drop when they announced it, now he watched as his division set up Striker. Saram came a few minutes later, a side bag slung across her body.

"Ready?" She asked quietly, looking Striker, while he kept looking at her side profile. He zoned out and didn't realize that she was calling or talking to him.

"Ace?" She snapped her fingers in front of his face and he flinched before nodding, "Y-Yes! I'm listening, let's go."

He jumped onto Striker first, his flames softening his jump, he looked up to see Saram still on the edge of the ship, a frown, barely visible on her lips, he felt himself raise an eyebrow, this was the first time he saw her hesitating and frowning, "Something wrong?" He asked, placing a hand on his hip.

"We're taking Striker?" She asked, voice quiet like always.

"Of course." He grinned and almost laughed as she shrunk back like a cat, "You, are you scared?"

At his words, Saram shook her head, "I am no—"

"I'll catch you, jump." He grinned, warm and intense, eyes bearing promise, her stomach churned at the intense gaze, dark eyes holding vows.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

She squeezed her eyes and jumped, praying for the best, a gasp left her involuntarily when hot hands gripped her waist, feet not touching the ground, her eyes opened sharply as she looked down at him, the gummy smile with those freckles that painted his face like a canvas, he was warm, radiating heat like the sun, it always kept her safe.

"Told ya I'd catch you." He gave that signature smirk of his and Saram pushed her palm against his face, smothering it as he let out a sound of surprise, letting go of her as she stood to her feet.

"Less talking, more working."

"No thanks?" He rubbed his nose as she placed her bag onto the ground, his eyes tracked how she seemed to walk towards a corner of Striker and put her things in a manner that seemed almost practiced and used to, she even knew to lean away from the jets.

"Lets go, we have a tight schedule." Saram said as she pulled out a small map and traced it with a stencil, Ace grinned and walked towards her, planting his feet firmly against the floor of Striker, he pulled his flames and the small boat surged forward, activated by flames, he glanced back at her, "Hold on tight."

"Alright." She nodded, eyes tracing the map she had in her hand, the stencil held in her hand, she seemed perfectly balanced even as Ace increased the speed of the engines sending it soaring through the waters.

Unknown to Ace, who was looking forward with a smile, following his eternal log pose, Saram looked up at him from her seat on the floor of the small, if not tiny, boat, her eyes softening at the youthful gaze on his face, the sprinkle of sea water against him, the flow of his wavy black hair, the way he held onto his hat with one hand and that signature smug smile of his, a small, barely noticeable smile pulled onto her own lips as she looked back to the map, the Moby Dick far, far away from them.

The journey was not long but it was difficult, it was night now, colder than before, way colder than before, she was quietly watching the waves as Ace used his flames to propel the boat slowly. The latter looked at her before sitting down beside her in the squished space, their sides pressed against each other as they sat side by side.

"You're too close." Saram remarked, eyes on the waves.

"Boats small."

"uh-huh." She gave him an unimpressed look.

"Ace is dead."

The words hurt her, they tore her apart, she knew, she knew he was dead, that he was not coming back, that he was gone buried six feet under with her soul and heart while her body lived on the ground.

"I know." She whispered as she drew the last engravement in the circle.

"Then why—"

"I'll save him, Marco." She says to him through the transponder snail, knelt on the ground, fingertips rough and calloused, it has been days, weeks, months but still she was still in a loop of having dreams of his death, the blood, the tears, the scream, the words he spoke as life left him—

"Thank you for loving me."

A moment of silence before Marco spoke again, "....you know it's not your fault, right, yoi?"

Her hands paused, eyes unfocused, staring at the picture on the wall that she had pinned, that smile, that warmth, the towering height of Whitebeard, the charisma of Izou, the witty remarks of Thatch, the smug smile of Marco and the way everyone in the picture was smiling and playing around.

"It doesn't reduce the guilt of surviving when they didn't." She whispered but Marco caught it, something in him stirred, a fear of sorts, he knew that Saram could be rash in her decisions, he had a feeling she was doing something she shouldn't.

"Saram," His voice was low as he began, "Where is the book of Kronos, yoi?"

Saram smiled to herself and looked at the transponder snail, not replying and that deepened his fear, the book of Kronos was a book they obtained from a merchant, said to have the ability to transcend time, Izou and Whitebeard always used to say that messing with time had repercussions, that time was horrid and that it should not be touched, therefore the book was hidden deep away from everyone, deep within that locker in Whitebeard's room.

"Just so we're clear Marco, you never could have stopped me." She said into the transponder, Marco's heart stammered as her resigned tone of voice sounded out of the transponder, he jumped to his feet, panic in his lungs, taste of copper and iron and sour grapes filled his mouths as he yelled into the device.

"Don't do it, yoi! Messing with time is—"

"Bad? Cursed? I don't care, Marco, I want my family back, I want Ace back." She said and reached ber hand towards the snail, "For what it's worth, thank you for being the brother I never had."

"Saram—!"

The call cut off as Marco stared in silence at the transponder snail, he slumped over his table as he stilled, gripping his hair with one hand while the other clenched around his table edge, was this it? As the First Commander, he was supposed to be the strong, able to manage people and himself. Why was he losing it all? Why? Why were all his loved ones slipping through his fingers? Was this the curse of being a phoenix? Immortality and eternal life gained, in exchanged of watching his loved ones mix into the sands of time?

"Where did we go wrong, yoi?" He said quietly, a sob choked in the back of his throat, so cruel, so sweet, so harsh, "Pops, Ace, Thatch, Izou - I don't know what to do."

And under the cold moonlight, the phoenix fell apart, immortality like the chains that clung to it's free self, freedom at the cost of being a slave to the very thing that made him soar the skies, was this redemption? Was this karmic debt?

Saram took a deep breath as she stepped into the circle, a smile on her lips as golden and blue glowed around her, encasing her in a cocoon, the last thing she saw was the picture on her wall, her family, her love, staring at her as her body was tugged apart by the powers of the incantation.

"Sorry, we only have one room." The receptionist apologized and Ace felt his ears heat up, one room, with Saram, alone, was just a spell for disaster. Ace glanced back at Saram who was looking around the lobby but he could tell that she was alert, the way her eyes kept darting around, their eyes met and she gave a questioning look, he shook his head and looked back at the receptionist.

"We'll take it."

He didn't acknowledge the look that the receptionist gave as he took the keys to their room, Saram grabbed her bag while Ace did the same, the two walked in the direction of their room. There was a comfortable silence as they walked, Saram was quiet and looking around as they travelled down the hallways.

"If you feel that sharing a room with me is troubling, I can get another room in another inn."

It was the first thing Saram said when they walked into the room, Ace turned to her in surprise, eyes slightly wide before shaking his head, "No, really. It's fine."

He pretended to ignore his racing heart, his burning ears and the heat across his back. Saram pretended that she didn't notice his fingers twitching, the muscle pulsing on his neck, the slow blinks he unknowingly did to calm himself down - how would she explain that she knew his habits from another life? And so they both pretended, unknown to Ace, that they didn't know about his feelings.

Saram freshened up before Ace, dressed in comfortable clothes and hair slightly dripping wet on the tips, a quiet yawn leaving her as Ace looked up from untying his boots by the couch. A quiet, untampered eye contact occured as the two stared at each other.

"I left warm water for you."

"Thanks."

"Remember to put your boots by the door and not on the carpet."

"Got it."

"Ace."

"Yeah?"

"Will you stop staring at me and go take a shower already?"

She had a small unnoticeable smile as Ace scampered to the bathroom, his tanned skin slightly flush, Saram shook her head and used the towel to soak her hair dry. Saram walked around the room barefoot, the feeling of the soft carpet under her feet felt nice, and soothing even, Marco had told them to get a hotel closest to the infiltration area for better surveillance.

Ironically, only expensive and luxurious hotels were near the area and so the duo had to opt for a room quite above their expectations. She practically dragged Ace to this place after talking to Marco over the transponder because he was constantly walking towards the inns that were way, way far off.

She eyed the two pairs of shoes by the couch, one was her's and the other Ace's, call it being bossy but ahe didn't want the pretty carpets of their room to look dirty, and Ace's shoes were REALLY dirty. Saram sat on the windowsill, the binoculars in her hand as she used them to watch the casino they were suppsed to infiltrate.

Usually, Izou would carry out these infiltration missions but he was away with his division on another mission and the other divisions were slumped with work, that left her and Ace, who had just returned from his most recent mission, to be the ones to carry this out because there was no way she was letting the nurses on something as dangerous as this regardless of how tough they were.

Her eyes tracked the target who was mingling with the rich people of the casino, the hand gestures, the way they held themselves, the behaviorisms, the outfits - Saram noted it all, eyes narrowing as she watched through the binoculars.

"Tracking them already?" Ace's voice came from behind, she nodded, eyes still looking through the binoculars, not paying attention as Ace came to stand directly behind her, his eyes curious to look outside. Saram turned her head and immediately froze, Ace glanced and stilled.

There was a minimum distance behind their faces, Ace's body was still slightly damp from his shower, black hair tips dripping water onto her skin, heat emanating from his skin and she remembers that Ace ran hot, literally. Saram opened her mouth to speak but the words in her head never made it to her tongue as she stared at him. Her eyes watched the droplet of water slide down his neck and then averted her eyes back to his face, only for heat to blossom in her chest as she saw his gaze trained on her, steady and unadulterated.

Ace licked his lips as he stared at her, his hands clenching and unclenching and clenching by his sides constantly as she gazed back at him. He knew this was risky, feelings like his were dangerous, this was dangerous. Saram was someone who was in danger from him, he was afraid that he would consume her, her very essence was something he craved and at this moment, Portgas D. Ace wanted nothing more than to let himself consume her.

"You know, right?"

Saram did not reply to him but the way she averted her eyes was enough of an answer. Ace felt his chest clench, she knew that he was enamored with her, maybe even in love and yet she refused to speak of it, speak of him, speak of the way he, too, knew that she would always stay on deck on fixed times during his chores, be near the training yards during his spar sessions doing tasks, how she always administered medicine to Whitebeard whenever he was near the Yonko.

"You will drown, Ace, I am no good for you."

He smiled, that boyish smile she knew from another lifetime, that smile which she could not hold onto. At this moment, she saw something almost feral strange.

"Who says I am afraid of drowning?"

"You should be."

"Are you?"

Saram blinked, fingers slowly sliding up his nape, twisting into his dark locks, pulling him closer, lips ghosting against his, "I should be."

"Saram, I lo-"

And she placed her palm over his mouth, stopping him from speaking, shaking her head, "Don't, not here, not now."

His eyes bore into her own as she spoke, something almost raw and primal flashed in his eyes, Saram licked her lips as she continued, "Reach your 21st birthday and then," she paused, "I will confess to you. Not before that."

A moment of silence before his eyes lidded slightly, hot hand coming to hold her wrist, her breathe hitched as he kissed her wrist, his eyes on her, damp wavy hair shadowing his eyes.

"21st birthday, huh?"

Saram felt her throat dry up as he continued speaking.

"Then prepare yourself, Saram." He said lowly, all mirth and playfulness gone from his tone, his eyes dark and gleaming, "On my 21st birthday, I will devour you."

She gasped quietly as he bit her wrist, heart stammering, only one thought in her head.

Fuck, I am in trouble.

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