#and all of the decisions he made were good

[myderis]

phainon 'n fem reader ᰔ fluff ⊹ word count 0.5k

"Quick, hide me!" you were in a total panic running to PHAINON using him like a human shield as your hands found a place on his back, gently tugging his cape. Although he didn't have time to react, he knew you were in big trouble if you were looking for him. "What is it this time, my lady? You stole another scroll, rode a droma unsupervised, scammed someone, or—?"

"Where is she?" you panicked even more hearing the voice of none other than Mydei and his footsteps that could tear the ground apart, and maybe even your dignity. "Where's who?" Phainon's calm voice carried just enough to sound believable. He didn’t flinch as the prince’s towering frame loomed closer, his eyes blazing like twin suns. The Deliverer shrugged slightly, ensuring his broad frame blocked you from sight as you pressed closer to his back, your heart pounding like a war drum.

"You know exactly who I’m talking about," Mydei growled. His tone was edged with frustration, and you could almost feel his glare cutting through the space between them. "She drank all of my pomegranate juice. Do you have any idea how long I waited for the harvest? Where is she?" At those words, your stomach twisted with guilt and fear. You hadn’t meant to drink all of it… but it was just so good.

Phainon tilted his head, considering. "Pomegranate juice, you say? That’s tragic. But alas, I’m afraid I haven’t seen her.” leaning casually against a pillar as if Mydei’s wrath was the least of his worries. "Perhaps she’s taken to the market? Or gone to annoy someone else?" 

Mydei hesitated, uncertain whether to believe Phainon or keep pressing him for answers. After a long, tense pause, he sighed, not wanting to bother himself anymore.

"Fine. If you see her, tell her to face me like an adult," You shot your savior a silent, desperate thank-you from behind his back. He subtly shifted, blocking you further from view. Mydei narrowed his eyes, clearly not buying it, but after a moment, he huffed, muttering something about “finding her eventually” before storming off.

As soon as he was gone, you stepped out from behind Phainon. "I owe you my life," you said dramatically, your heart still racing. "Or at least my dignity."

Turning to you, an eyebrow raised in amusement. "You owe me more than that, I think. But we’ll start with the truth—what did you do?"

You hesitated, then confessed, "I… drank all of Mydei’s pomegranate juice. I was thirsty! And it was just sitting there, looking—"

"Delicious?" Phainon finished, smirking. "You’re lucky I’m good at lying."

"Lucky doesn’t even cover it. I don’t know how to thank you," you admitted, a gentle smile appearing on your face and Phainon crossed his arms, his smirk widening. "I can think of one way."

Your stomach did a little flip. "Do you want to go out on a date?"

He chuckled, blue eyes shining with adoration, "I was going to suggest you replace the juice, but now that you mention it… I won’t say no."

You flushed, but you couldn’t help but laugh. "It’s settled then,"

"At least for now, my lady," he teased, making you wonder how draining Mydei’s pomegranate juice wasn’t the worst decision you’d made after all.

© MYDERIS. do not translate, plagiarize, or steal my work.

[carnalcrows]

DISOBEDIENCE - INHO

pairing: inho x dom! male reader

synopsis: When the normally composed Front Man disobeys, his lover steps in to deliver a firm but intimate punishment, breaking his pride and leaving him vulnerable—only to patch him back together with tender, loving care.

content warnings: 18+, sub!inho, spanking, a little aftercare at the end

word count: 0.8k

A/N: I forgot where the request went my bad g

The control room was dark, illuminated only by the faint glow of the monitors displaying the games in progress. You sat behind the large desk, watching the feeds in silence. Across from you stood In-ho, the Front Man, his mask clutched tightly in his hand. His usually commanding presence was subdued, his shoulders slightly hunched, his gaze avoiding yours.

“You know why you’re here,” you began, your voice cold but steady.

He nodded, his lips pressing into a thin line. “I do.”

You leaned back in your chair, your gaze sharp and unyielding. “Then tell me why you thought it was acceptable to disobey my direct orders.”

He shifted uncomfortably, his grip on the mask tightening. “I… thought my decision was the better one,” he admitted reluctantly. “I was trying to—”

“You were trying to what?” you interrupted, your tone cutting through his excuse like a blade. “Undermine me? Prove that you’re above following instructions?”

“No,” he said quickly, his eyes darting to yours, desperation flickering in their depths. “That wasn’t my intention.”

“But that’s what you did,” you countered, standing and walking around the desk. Each step you took echoed in the tense silence, the air between you heavy with anticipation. “You’re supposed to be my right hand, In-ho. My enforcer. If you can’t follow orders, what message does that send to everyone else?”

He didn’t reply, his head bowing slightly as shame crept into his expression.

“Look at me,” you commanded, and after a moment of hesitation, he obeyed. His dark eyes met yours, a mix of defiance and vulnerability swirling within them.

“You’ve made a mess,” you said quietly, stepping closer. “And now, I have to clean it up. But first, I need to ensure you understand the weight of your actions.”

His breath hitched as you reached out, brushing a gloved finger along his jawline. He held your gaze, though his hands trembled slightly at his sides. You could see the tension in his body, the battle between his pride and the guilt that gnawed at him.

“Take off the jacket,” you instructed, your voice low but firm.

In-ho hesitated for only a moment before shrugging off the sleek black coat of his uniform, letting it fall to the floor. His crisp white shirt was slightly unbuttoned at the collar, his stoic mask slipping to reveal the man underneath. The vulnerability made him seem almost human—almost.

You guided him to lean over the desk, his hands gripping the edge tightly. The room was silent except for the sound of his breathing, uneven and shallow. You slowly pulled his pants and boxers down before your hand came down with a sharp smack against his ass, the sound echoing in the confined space. He jolted, a quiet gasp escaping his lips, though he didn’t resist.

“This is about trust,” you said, your voice firm but not unkind. “And you broke it.”

Another strike, more deliberate this time, drew a stifled groan from him. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the desk harder, his composure slipping with each stinging blow.

“Do you think I enjoy this?” you asked, leaning close to his ear. “Do you think I want to punish you like this?”

“No,” he choked out, his voice strained. “I— I understand.”

“Good,” you murmured, your hand lingering for a moment before trailing up his spine, a touch both punishing and comforting. “Because if this happens again, the consequences will be far more severe.”

Another, after another, the sounds of your hand striking his ass filled the room, with him counting every single one.

“Fuck– that’s ten, sir,” he whimpered, feeling the sting all the way to his cock, making his brain go mushy.

“I hope you’ve learnt your lesson from this In-ho,” you said sternly, your hand massaging the flesh before striking it once more.

Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he nodded, his breathing ragged. “I won’t disobey you again,” he whispered. “I promise.”

You straightened, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “I know you won’t,” you said softly, the edge in your voice replaced with something gentler. “You’re better than this, In-ho. Don’t make me doubt you again.”

He turned to face you, his usually stoic expression crumbling into something raw and exposed. “Thank you,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible.

You reached out, cupping his face in your hands. “You’re forgiven,” you said, your thumbs brushing away the faint traces of tears. “But don’t forget why this happened.”

“I won’t,” he vowed, his voice steadier now. “I swear it.”

You nodded, offering him a faint smile before pulling him into an embrace. His body relaxed against yours, the tension finally melting away as you held him close.

“You’re mine to trust,” you whispered into his ear, your voice both a promise and a warning. “Don’t make me regret it.”

© carnalcrows on tumblr. Please do not steal my works as I spend time and I take genuine effort to do them.

[grendil9]

Look at the shadow it's so disgusting. If you ever liked Trump I don't trust you. I'm afraid of you.

If there is any truth, it is withheld from us by our masters. What they call anti-intellectualism, is actually just pointing out that everything we're allowed to have is just hoaxes, deceptions perpetuated by golem writers and fooled people. Like we were fooled when we were children.

All of it is made up.

You are probably well-instructed to reject people who say science is based on nothing, and healthcare is based on nothing, but you look into it for a bit and find out that yes, it's all made up. Every new I fucking love science discovery is made up. It's fake. It's written as a joke to fuck with you. All of it.

They call it "anti-intellectualism" when slaves like us figure this out in Russia too and it's a huge problem for hoaxers over there. They shame, shame, shame the people for it. But more and more of them show up in comments sections each year. Shadowban after shadowban.

Probably because the moment a Christian Russian develops two braincells all they have to do over there is take a look around and see that they are the drunken, racemixed, defeated, FOOLED remnants of a conqured people who were wrung dry and destroyed by the Skeksis and their sweet "communism". Of course I wouldn't trust a thing I'm told by Skeksis ever again.

Trusting anything the Skeksis say after that is an evil thing to do when I live next to the graves of my ancestors, who will never be seen in full form again because of their defeat and mixing. I would be so terrified. I would hold on to whatever's left of God's original creation in my blood and mind against every science and truth and fact and fact-checker.

People say they're scared of trump. I agree completely. He's so fucking ugly. He looks SO fucking ugly. He looks disgusting. Putrid. And his sick, wailing voice makes me sick to hear.

All these decisions are too much too quickly, it's scary!

I don't want to take part in any of this at all. I want peace and I want good people to be at peace. But so far it feels like men choose to either become a golem and be "saved" as a slave to monsters, or to be cast into this nightmare world ruled by these beastlike bloated shemales. Confusing and terrifying the children of their slaves with their insane rules and monsterous laws and speeches and words. Hurting us and our children with their madness and nonsense and lies!

It's like hell !!!!!!!!!

Why won't they go away !!!!!!!!!!!!!

There’s a reason these people are fucking stupid and proud of it.

[sugarwarachan]

summary: A city-wide blackout leads to some questionable decisions on Eraserhead's part: for four nights in a row now, Aizawa Shouta has been watching you get yourself off. Is tonight the night he joins in? pairing: aizawa shouta x reader wc: 1.7k content warnings: SMUT mdni, dark content, stalker!aizawa, stalking, voyeurism, dubcon, power imbalance (pro hero/civilian, ya know) voice kink, dirty talk, aizawa's big dick, truly don't know if his quirk helps him see in the dark but i don't care

The watching starts before Aizawa knows how to stop it.

One minute, he’s on patrol during the worst blackout the city’s ever seen; the next, he’s looking into your room and watching you get undressed.

You stopped him dead in his tracks, all plush curves and soft skin, almost otherworldly in the cool blue dark. Maybe that’s why he stayed that first time, frozen on the ledge of a neighboring building, watching you writhe and whimper on a purple dildo.

He has no excuse for why he returns the second and the third night, only that he's hungry for more, that the cover of dark in a still imperiled city is making it easier for him to accept the dark desire churning in his veins that he needs to know exactly what you sound like when you stuff yourself full.

He takes a shaky breath, cold air stinging his cheeks. Darkness blankets the city as thoroughly as gauze, a hazy film that puts anyone with eyes that aren’t his at a disadvantage.

He can see you perfectly, surrounded in your bedroom by candles and wearing those sleep shorts that hug the meat of your ass so well he has to palm his dick roughly through his pants, grunting into his fist.

You can’t see him.

Aizawa pulls out a burner phone before he can stop himself and punches in your number. Your face scrunches adorably at the unfamiliar caller, but you answer all the same.

“Hello?”

Fuck. You’ve got a voice like heaven, soft and low and sweet.

“Hi,” is all he can think to say, and he sucks in a breath when your nipples pebble under your thin cami.

You like his voice already. That’s good. He can work with that.

“Who is this?”

You’d be lying if you didn’t already have a suspicion. Just because you don’t have a quirk doesn’t mean you don’t have senses; you clocked him the first night he watched you out in that expansive dark, the gleam of something like goggles shining in the dark.

You don’t know why you kept touching yourself, why his gaze on you made your heart race instead of reach for the phone to call the cops.

Not much good they’d do anyway. They’d just send Mr. Pro Hero outside, or someone like him.

“Does it matter who I am?”

His voice is everything you like. Deep and rumbling, a little rasp raking over the syllables and zipping up your spine.

“Guess not.” You shrug one shoulder; the strap of your cami slides down. On cue, you hear the faintest inhale of air. Dude must have fucking super vision. “Why did you keep coming back?”

You almost roll your eyes at how off-route your priorities are. There’s been a man watching you fuck yourself, and you’re hung up on specifics?

“You’re beautiful,” he says, simply, like he’s rattling off stock prices, but it makes your heart stop all the same. “Why is it you’re alone?”

You can't help but laugh. “You’re not pulling the ‘you’re too pretty to be alone’ card, are you?”

He laughs, too, a soft rumble that crackles the phone with static. “So what if I am? The only action I’ve seen you get the past few days is when that toy of yours disappears between your legs.”

Arousal knocks the wind out of you. Heat flushes up your hairline.

Another low chuckle on his end. “Embarrassed, pretty girl?”

You walk up to the window, peer out into the dark night. You can’t make anything out other than shadows.

“How many times have you watched me now?”

“You don’t know? Seemed like you were putting on a show.”

His teasing tone makes your cunt clench.

“Four days now, sweetheart,” like he’s counting down your anniversary, not how often he’s spied on you masturbating. “What were you thinking about last night that had you shuddering and gasping like that? Knew I had to get your number just so I could hear you fall apart.”

This is wrong this is wrong this is wrong is blaring on repeat in your head, but that’s increasingly falling to the wayside with every word that falls out of this stranger’s mouth. Your sleep shorts slide between your folds. Blood rushes in your ears as your heart beats in your throat. You feel so turned on it’s like every cell is alight, responding to the chemical reaction that is the man on the other side of the window.

It’s cold tonight. The window sticks just like it always does when you open it up, the cool night air a balm for your arousal-drenched skin.

You don’t address him; you’re not really sure why, but you like not knowing where he is, a figure in the dark hell bent on nothing more than watching you cum.

You settle back down on your bed, crossing your legs and groaning a little. You’re damp and sticky and so turned on it’s already starting to hurt.

“I was thinking about you,” you answer honestly. "I like your voice.” Your own shakes, with a mixture of lust and fear and excitement. “Can you talk to me?”

“Of course I can talk to you.” His voice drops another octave, takes on an even more gravelly tone. Your whole body erupts in goosebumps. “What’s my pretty girl wanna hear?”

“Anything,” you say, and you mean it. This man could probably read you the directions to a microwave meal and get you off. “You can see me, right?”

“Mmhmm,” he intones.

“Then tell me how to touch myself. Like if you were here.”

Aizawa crushes the phone in his grip so tightly he hears it crack.

You’re already squirming on your bed, sitting on your fucking hands like you’re waiting for permission. His heart kicks up against his ribs, his cock jumping violently against his uniform.

“I can do that, sweetheart.”

You smile, tuck your chin into your chest like his attention is all of a sudden making you shy. He wonders if you’re doing it to tease him, or if he’s bringing it out of you. It doesn't matter either way; he's harder than he's been in his entire life.

“Lay back down on the bed for me, yeah?” You comply instantly. “Make sure I can see that gorgeous cunt, baby, don’t be hiding from me.”

Your breath hitches. You scoot forward just enough, and the flickering candlelight plays over your skin like water. His mouth dries up at the sight.

“Spread yourself open, use those pretty hands of yours.”

You part your folds, the pad of your middle finger gathering up the arousal pooling between your legs. “Jesus—fuck—look at you, gorgeous. All that just for me?”

He sees you nod.

“You gotta talk to me too, sweetheart. Use that cute mouth of yours.”

You choke out a little whine that blacks out his vision.

“S-sorry. I don’t understand how it feels so fucking good already.”

Your hips move in little circles, chasing your release.

“How many toys do you have there with you?”

“A few. Why?”

“Which is the biggest?”

You huff out a disbelieving giggle. “You’re not doing that thing where you lie about your endowments, are you?”

The grin that crosses his mouth is wild, hungry. He wasn’t planning on touching himself tonight; only wanted to tease you in the dark until he splattered the front of his pants like a teenager. But your tone is making him ignore his earlier impulses as he tugs out his cock and snaps a photo of it, hard and heavy and leaking in his palm.

He sends it.

You’re silent for a moment. He sees your legs press together before he hears—

“Fuck,” you whimper, so desperately it’s like he can see your mouth water. “I don’t—I don’t have anything as big as you.”

His cock literally jumps in his hand. Pre-cum oozes from the tip; he stuffs it back into his briefs before he can change his mind.

“You can’t tell me things like that. Makes me want to climb through your window and stuff you full with what you really need.” The muscles in his stomach bunch as he fights for composure. “Take out that purple toy of yours. It’ll be enough for now, ‘kay princesss? Don’t whine for things you can’t have.”

It’s an admonishment to himself, too.

“Don’t turn it on just yet. Get it all nice and wet, pretty girl, I know you’re fucking dripping.”

You follow instructions in a way that soothes the miasma of thoughts in his head. Here the world makes sense again. Here he can do good.

“Can I know your name?” You pant. He watches you trace small caresses across your belly, the soft undersides of your tits.

God, he wants his teeth on you, devouring you whole.

Against his better judgement, he tells you. “Sho is fine.”

“Okay. Sho,” you breathe it out in an overdrawn sexy drawl, but fuck, even his shortened name is enough to make that low-belly punch of arousal spike.

“Inch that toy in nice and slow, honey, go on now, stop being a tease.” He watches the tip start to part you open, your ragged gasp harsh in his ear. “If I was there, we’d be stretching out your little cunt for hours, make sure you’re ready for me. I could probably sit you on just the tip of my dick and make you cum. Isn't that right, sweetheart? You're fucking shaking and I haven't even touched you—”

“Sho,” you’re pleading, and it’s making his head fucking spin. “Can I turn it on, please? Let me turn it on—”

“Of course you can, baby, that’s it, look at you.” Your legs are spread obscenely, arousal dripping from your hole, glistening on your thighs and core. “Show me you how you like it, sweet girl, show me how you want me to fuck you next time, yeah?”

Aizawa feels each shuddering gasp and keening moan like you’re there beside him. Your orgasm overtakes you, back bowing off the bed, his name like a prayer on your lips. His hips jerk as he watches you, one hand tight on the phone, the other pressing against the pulsing-hot ache of his cock as he ruts into his palm.

His phone pings a moment later as he's catching his breath, a too-dark picture of the mess between your thighs and a text:

[y/n]: Come back tomorrow <3

a/n: actively launching myself into outer space!!!

[witherby]

Itsame!! How do you think the batfam would react to taking in a Mouse that was a villain kid? annnddd had somewhat unhinged tendencies from growing up w/ their parents?

thank you el!

--🎆

Hmm. In normal circumstances, I think they'd all react very patiently and just steer you in the direction of making good decisions instead of bad. Damian was raised by a league of killers, and they rolled with that without blinking. You'd have to be the child of someone super fucked up to make them think twice about who you are as a person. Like extremely fucked up.

Like, the worst person they could think of.

The cave was dead silent. Every member of the family stood around a table and looked at the documentation Bruce finished putting together in regards to the child he'd locked in a cell just down the hall with a mixture of dread and concern. Information was sparse, but the DNA tests and mannerisms were more than enough to paint the picture no one was acknowledging.

Tonight's patrol was supposed to be a routine one — investigate some leads, stop some crimes, then come home and go to bed. What Batman and Robin found instead, by pure happenstance, was a partially completed setup for an elaborate death trap that the Joker had been working on, which was then subsequently blown up in a half-hearted effort to kill them so he could escape.

They'd survived, obviously, but it wasn't just Batman and Robin that came back.

"So the clown fucks," Jason finally blurted. "Think he's only got one spawn?"

"Yes, as far as I can tell," Bruce said, rubbing the back of his neck. The migraine he'd been fighting off all night was swiftly worsening. He just wanted to go to bed. "Joker didn't seem to realize he'd left the child behind when he escaped tonight. I think she wasn't supposed to be there."

"Understatement of the century, B," Dick mumbled, thumbing through the papers again. "How did he manage to keep her secret for so long? That kid is, like, seven or eight."

"How did that frivolous hack keep her alive for so long?" Damian asked. "I'm just as impressed as I am concerned."

"We can figure that out later," Tim said, addressing the biggest problem, "what do we do about the Joker's kid?"

Everyone exchanged looks with each other, all silently coming to the same series of conclusions:

1. They couldn't put the child in the System. Her history and yet uncatalogued behaviors could lead to major issues, and the Joker would find and retrieve his kid in a matter of days.

2. They couldn't put the child in Arkham. There wasn't a ward set up to handle children. She was too young to be there, and breakouts from the Asylum were a common occurrence, so she'd inevitably go back to him.

3. They couldn't put the child in Juvenile Detention. As far as they knew, she hadn't committed any crimes, so there was nothing to convict her of in order to have her admitted.

Which meant, for the foreseeable future...

Jason stood up, thumbs gliding down the handles of his guns. Bruce gave him a sharp look and he holstered them with a shrug.

"You know I'm not actually gonna hurt 'er," he sneered, grabbing his helmet to slide it on. "But she don't know that. What's a little intimidation between a captor and captive, huh? I'm just lookin' to get some info about our new roomie is all."

"You can just ask," Bruce said. "That's a child in there, Hood, regardless of whose it is. We can approach this peacefully."

"Oh, fuck off. Your favorite wacko popped out a baby and he's been raising it for years. We can't assume this kid is any more logical than the shit-pile it came from."

Jason marched past Bruce and vanished down the hall where they kept the containment cells. Bruce hurried after him, scowling, and the remaining three followed suit with different levels of curiosity and caution.

"This isn't going to be good..." Dick muttered.

It didn't take long to reach your cell. The door was made of bulletproof glass, and the walls and floor were a smooth beige color, with pressure sensors to keep track of your location, oxygen levels, and heart rate. In one corner of the room was a toilet with a privacy curtain and a sink, and in the other was a plain bed with two pillows and a blanket.

You were lying in the middle of the floor, staring up at the ceiling with vacant eyes a placid smile on your face. You had on white face paint with a bold, red lip and blue triangles above and below your eyes, a bright green button-up shirt with a black bowtie, suspenders, brown pants, and black shoes that clicked every time you bumped your feet together.

Click. Click. Click.

Aside from the rhythmic bumping of your shoes, you were dead silent and unmoving in the cell. You didn't even look up when Jason walked up to the door and leaned against it, whistling for your attention.

"Hey, you," he called. "Name, now."

You didn't answer. Jason banged his fist against the glass, listening to the sharp reverb.

"When I speak, you answer," he barked. "What's your fuckin' name, kid?"

Click. Click. Click. You continued to admire the ceiling, arms splayed out at your sides.

"That's real cute," Jason growled, punching in the code to unlock your cell door. "You gonna pretend like you can't hear me? That's fine, lemme come to you then. I'll make sure you pick up the message loud and clear —"

"Red Hood!" Bruce said, grabbing his arm. Jason shook it off and stormed inside, grabbing a fistful of your shirt and lifting you off the ground. You didn't fight him, body limp and pliant in his grasp, and continued to watch the ceiling.

Click. Click. Click. Your feet bumped against each other even still. Unbothered. Undisturbed.

"Name," Jason demanded, voice warping badly through his voice modulator the angrier he got. You didn't acknowledge him. "I'll start asking you in other languages. Don't think you can get out of answering me that way, either."

"I think that's enough, Red Hood," Dick said, slipping into the room before Bruce could get in and potentially make things violent. He walked around behind you and gently hooked his hands under your armpits, coaxing you out of Jason's grasp. "You're probably scaring her. Let's all just —"

You giggled. It startled Dick badly enough he dropped you, and you crumbled to the floor like a puppet with cut strings. Your giggling grew louder as you carefully straightened out, lying on your back with your arms splayed again, and you smiled up at the ceiling.

"What's there to be afraid of?" You asked, voice sweet and cheery. It was also strangely soft, nothing like the harsh pitch of your progenitor. "The batcifists have captured me. I'm perfectly safe and sound."

No one moved. You hummed, shifting your head side to side with a wistful sigh.

"Batcifists. Get it? Bat-pacifists? Because you don't kill people? Popsy said you guys didn't find most jokes funny, and I guess it's true..."

Click. Click. Click. You knock your feet together again as silence momentarily descends upon the room.

"Does your popsy talk about us a lot?" Tim asked from the doorway.

"You're my bedtime stories," you muttered. Click. Click. Click. "Popsy says his greatest dream is to make you all laugh so hard you choke."

Dick crouched down next to you, frowning. You kept your gaze on the ceiling.

"What about you?" He asked. "What's your dream?"

"I'm Popsy's favorite toy." The smile on your face grew wider, more genuine. Click. Click. Click. "His absolute favorite."

Jason abruptly turned and left the room, stomping down the hallway. Damian looked visibly uncomfortable and followed soundlessly after his brother.

Click. Click. Click.

"Well, we can't call you Toy, can we?" Dick reasoned gently. "Do you have a name? What does your popsy call you?"

You giggled again. It was a gentle, melodic thing, that gradually worsened and grew louder, until you were clutching your stomach and kicking your feet with sheer glee. Your sharp cackling echoed through the room, the remaining bats all watching you with varying levels of horror. In the throes of it, you sounded exactly like him.

Nearly a minute went by before you started settling down again, wiping a stray tear from your face. You chirped your name with obvious pride as you clicked your feet together.

"Punchline!"

[sterifels-blog]

simon "ghost" riley

The first time Simon saw your boyfriend, he knew.

Oh, he knew. Not in that “you’re too good for him” way you half-expected your protective, burly best friend to behave. No, Simon hated him with a ferocity so immediate, so visceral, it made his blood hum a little sharper. He didn’t just hate him. He despised him. Abhorred him. Wanted to roll his sleeves up and grate him into the damn carpet with the sheer force of his forearms alone. And if that wasn’t enough, he wanted to spend the rest of his natural-born life proving to you (and to himself, if we’re being honest) that he was better.

Tighter shirts. The flex of his fists when your boyfriend spoke in that grating voice Simon privately referred to as "discount Casanova." The subtle, almost casual cracks of his knuckles whenever the man dared to open his mouth about you in any way that wasn’t pristine worship. Every time your boyfriend laughed at you instead of with you, Simon would let out a low, bone-chilling chuckle of his own— a rumbling thing, gravelly and sharp, because he wasn’t laughing at all.

And then there was that one night.

It wasn’t like Simon was trying to hover. He wasn’t. He didn’t need to be your babysitter. You were strong, capable, smarter than everyone Simon had ever met— except, apparently, when it came to that bloody waste of oxygen you called a boyfriend. But when he saw the way your smile dimmed just a little too much at something the guy said, the way your fingers tightened around your glass as if to crush it, something ancient and primal roared inside Simon’s chest.

He stayed behind when you went home. Watched the fool stagger out into the night like a walking bad decision. Simon followed him with the quiet, measured gait of a shadow given form—leather jacket snug over his frame, boots heavy, but silent as sin.

Simon wasn’t poetic about what happened next. He didn’t need to be. There was no artistry in the precise, methodical lesson he taught your boyfriend in a dim alleyway under a broken porch light. (Broken now, thanks to your boyfriend's skull, if Simon were feeling particularly cheeky about it.) He made sure the man knew exactly why he was being "affectionately" restructured. And when the lesson ended, Simon left without a single word but with a vivid reminder that would stick for weeks:

stay the hell away.

The next morning, your boyfriend broke up with you via text message. A single line of lukewarm cowardice you barely had time to process before Simon was at your door, arms laden with snacks, beer, and the sweater you always stole anyway.

You curled up next to him on the couch, face half-hidden in the collar of that massive gray hoodie, and let out an exhausted sigh. Your voice was soft when you mumbled- sniffling with a stuffy nose from your previous sobs, “I just don’t get it, Si. I thought he cared..”

Simon didn’t answer right away, gaze fixed on the screen as Finding Nemo played in the background—a film you’d insisted on because you needed something light and harmless. Of course, to Simon, it wasn’t harmless at all. He frowned as Marlin yelled at Dory, the tiny blue fish babbling nonsense with frantic, short-term determination.

“'Course he didn’t care. Idiot didn’t even notice he was playing chicken with a shark,” Simon finally muttered, his deadpan delivery laced with something so dry you almost didn’t catch it.

You looked up, confused. “Huh?”

“Forget your boyfriend,” Simon said, tone flat as a blade. “This is why I don’t swim. Can’t trust anything with gills. Bloody sharks, jellyfish, clownfish...all useless. Why d’you think they call it Finding Nemo? Should’ve named it Simon Was Right: Stay Out of the Water.”

You snorted, unable to help yourself, and Simon glanced down at you, lips quirking upward just enough to show the barest hint of satisfaction.

And there it was. That warmth. That comfort. Simon didn’t need to say it, didn’t need to spell it out for you in big, stupid letters. You could see it in the way his arm stayed firm around your shoulders, in the way he made sure your blanket covered your toes, in the way his ridiculous commentary on Finding Nemo somehow made you feel whole again.

Yeah. You'd find your own way to thank him later.

[grudgecollector]

Trip Sitter | Nam-gyu / Reader / Thanos

HEADCANONS & DRABBLE

Pairing: Nam-gyu & Choi Su-bong (Thanos) / GN!Reader

Summary: The three of you do shrooms.

Tags/Warnings: Drug use, swearin, suggestive themes, implied sex while intoxicated

A/N: So I used to do shrooms with my ex, so this is written with personal experience.

The concept has been living inside of my head for like four days now. So finally I've come around to finish it.

Now realistically would I ever do shrooms with these bozos? HELL NO. Well... Maybe. But first timers doing shrooms with them? Bad call.

ᯓ First time? Congratulations you’ve just made both the best and worst decision anyone could make under this circumstance.

Best because they’re both experienced. Worst because they are terrible trip sitters. Kind of.

ᯓ The come up is always the worst. That gripping nausea that holds you down to the bed, eyes shut, focusing on your breathing to stop yourself from throwing up. You felt like the room was spinning around you every time you cracked an eye open. You were trying to be brave.

ᯓ Nam gyu would absolutely be the type to say"

“the cops are actually on their way right now.” "Dude your mom just texted me, and told me she wants to talk to you right now." "I think there's someone outside the window..." (he will say this when it's night time specifically) "Did you hear that? Was that someone saying your name?"

Let's just say that if you scare easily, this trip is not going to be very fun. And you have eight hours to deal with it.

ᯓ If you start crying though, Nam-gyu will be the one to pull you into his chest. Comforting you, trying not to move too much and shushing you quietly.

Su bong would be sitting at the end of the bed watching with worried eyes. He doesn’t want to risk overstimulating you too much, as that is a very frequent thing that can and will happen.

ᯓ First trips are INTENSE. All of these emotions you’re feeling coming to the forefront so suddenly. A floodgate absolutely will burst.

ᯓ Su bong would be the one to pull up TikTok. Which is always a gamble when scrolling through while on shrooms. Especially if you’re still getting visuals. Either the funniest videos in the world will show up, or the most horrifying thing you’ve ever seen will be bestowed upon you.

ᯓ Nam gyu is the one who gets an idea to build a fire outside. The come up hasn’t hit any of you yet, so you have a good forty minutes to build this fire. You and Su-bong pull some chairs off the patio, pulling them close enough to be able to feel the fire and watch it.

ᯓ Walks with them while on shrooms is honestly the most peaceful though. If you’re walking through a path in the woods, sunlight streaming through the leaves, it’s absolutely gorgeous. It’s like you’re seeing the world through a different lens.

The leaves on the trees would look like they're sparkling, the bark would look like it's breathing, pulsing slowly back and forth. The three of you take your time outside, stopping and watching nature.

ᯓ Out of the three of you, Su-bong is the one who gets after-shrooms depression the most. It's pretty simple, once the high goes away you just feel empty and depressed. All of those intense feelings now dissipated back into how they were before.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚

"Holy fuck dude...." Su-bong whispered, the grip he had on his phone tightened before he dropped it into his lap. A hand came up to his face as he tried to contain his laughter. "I am so fucked up right now."

You glanced over at his phone to see the front facing camera was open. The icons on that weren't covered by his hand were swaying in your eyes, almost like they were going to crawl off the screen.

Goosebumps rose up on your skin when you felt Nam-gyu's fingers trail up your bicep. He was laying down on the bed, curled into your side, listening to your steady heartbeats.

Su-bong was sat crisscross at the end of the bed, your feet pushed up against his shin. You couldn't stop staring at his hair, it looked like it was blowing in a subtle breeze, every time he moved the color seemed to leave a translucent trail before settling back on his head.

His eyes almost seemed to twinkle in the light, the sun shining in from the window right down onto him. It made him look ethereal.

"Tell me about it dude, I keep seeing a face in the corner of my eyes." Nam-gyu chuckled quietly, snuggling himself closer into your chest.

"Is it scary?" Su-bong asked, swaying a little back and forth slowly.

Nam-gyu continued to trace small patterns into your arm, "Nah he's chill."

You looked down at Nam-gyu's hand on your arm, staring as it almost looked like his fingers would dip beneath your skin any second.

"You feeling good, babe?" Su-bong asked, his eyes meeting yours. God his pupils were huge, you're sure yours were no better.

"I fucking love this." You sighed out, leaning your head back against the wall.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚

The one who is most likely to beg you to make out with them, hold them, do a little more with them is nam- just kidding it's both of them.

One thing about shrooms is it will make you clingier and hornier than a motherfucker (sometimes... depends on who you're with and doing it with). And they are absolutely no different.

Once the comedown stops and you're all just chilling in your high, you'll be sandwiched between them.

Nam-gyu laying in front of you, his lips moving in sync with yours, a hand braced on your waist right below Su-bong's arm that was wrapped around you.

The purple haired menace would be laying behind you, his whole body pressed flush against yours as he nips and sucks on your neck. Whispering filthy things into your ear that makes both Nam-gyu and you whine desperately.

God everything felt so much more intense right now. Every sense was heightened to the max, you felt like you were vibrating, you have never needed them more than right now.

[becausebuckley]

michelle's buddie fic recs: week 4!

oh have i got some good ones for you this week! enjoy <3

this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading!

if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

and i'm not good at winning fights anymore | spaceprincessem/@spaceprincessem | 24k | T

five times Buck needs to feel Eddie's heartbeat and the one time Eddie needs to feel his. this is one of my absolute favourites, it was a reread this week and wow did it hit the spot once more. genuinely a masterpiece, cannot recommend this enough!

baby, say you'll always keep me | hattalove/@hattalove | 8.3k | T

the one in which joking about being married to your best friend is all fun and games, right up until you realize that you're not laughing. soft and sweet and a little silly, the buddie fic trifecta <3 all here in one fic!!

cause i'm tired of sleeping alone | rarakiplin (gmontys)/@hoediaz | 14.5k | T

five (ish) times eddie and buck go on dates with other people, and one time they go on a date with each other. oh this is so FUN i love mutual pining and jealousy and firefam meddling!! so good <3

didn't think you meant it | EtoileGarden | 33.5k | E

“Y’know,” he said. Shrugged again. “That last call? I kind of thought I’d have that by now.” “What,” Eddie raised his eyebrows at him. “A roof collapsing on you?” Buck grunted, elbowed Eddie. Lightly, because he did appreciate the humour in Eddie’s voice. “No,” he said. “Just - married.” i love love love the combination of pining and angst and comedy in this!! it's such a good time all around. another reread, and i'm glad i picked this up again!

i could spend the whole day just gettin' by | rowan_wood/@transboybuckley | 4.5k | GA

“I’m sick,” Buck said, eyes closed, when he could sense Eddie reached the loft. softest loveliest fic <3 i'm such a sucker for these two taking care of each other when they're ill, and this hits the spot so perfectly!

if i get burned, at least we were electrified | kaistinlove/@kaistinlove | 9.9k | E

Out of all the bad decisions Eddie has ever made. This one takes the cake. What did he think would happen when he's watching porn in broad daylight at the kitchen table? listen listen okay. buck's TATTOO. no i won't specify further, just read the fic. the TATTOO. trust me on this one. hot and fun and just so so good!!

if you leave the light on | cloudydaisies | 27.9k | GA

the check engine light comes on in Buck's Jeep, Eddie volunteers to fix it and carpool with him in the meantime, and it all breaks down from there, literally and metaphorically. such a delight of a fic <3 i love how this one nails not only the buddie dynamic, but the firefam as a whole!!

my heart will lead me there soon | ColorfulThoughts/@miscellaneouscolorfulthoughts | 7.4k | GA

Buck is pining for his best friend and copes with a new hobby. Who knew fish would bring them together? mutual pining, they are just too blind to see that is my new favourite tag combination <3 the hurt/comfort hurts and comforts so well!!

never known comfort like laying next to you | thelikesofus/@thelikesofus | 2.6k | GA

A long shift ends with a quiet pizza and movie night within the walls of the Diaz house followed by a quiet confession beneath Eddie’s duvet. this was another reread - quite a few of those this week - and wow does it continue to hit so hard <3 literally all of my favourite tags are right there!! i love soft domestic fluff, and this delivers exactly that!!

the evan buckley matchmaking agency | mmtion/@mmtions | 28.6k | M

Buck tries to set up Eddie. It goes well for absolutely no-one involved. (a 5+1 fic) the best oblivious buck ever!! this fic has such lovely characterisation of all the characters <3

the worm vs the universe | lightyears/@bisexualbellamyblake | 6.9k | T

Adriana moves to LA. It would be great, except that Buck starts dating her. adriana!! i love her so much!! the fact that we know so little about the diaz sisters in canon is wild to me tbh, but until proven wrong, i will just assume that adriana is exactly like this <3

slide it in, right to the top | oklahoma/@chippingmill | 4.3k | E

After Buck shows up at Eddie's door with a six pack, Eddie's mind begins to wonder. A bottle of tequila gives him the courage to ask for something he wasn't aware he's been wanting. this is hot and fun and so good and just so very them <3 i love scenarios like this for buddie, and this one is just perfect!!

vanilla disaster, lemon dream | BlueAzalea/@attack-of-the-blue-penguins | 39.8k | T

Eddie leans on his friends, shaves his mustache, goes to therapy, becomes besties with Maddie, admits he’s in love with his best friend, and learns to ask for what he wants. such a glorious glorious eddiemaddie friendship!! lovely introspective fic, an instant bookmark <3

wake up, boy, you're far from home | Daisies_and_Briars/@cal-daisies-and-briars | 23.8k | E

Eddie is miserable in El Paso, having seemingly made things worse. Buck is miserable in Los Angeles, without him. When Buck agrees to go home to Hershey for the holidays, everything implodes. oh and implode it does... such a fascinating look at the buckley and diaz families (i loved madney here!!) and at buddie themselves, of course. such a brilliant fic!!

when the tequila runs out | Artemis_Unbound/@artemisthehuntress | 5k | T

Drunk Buck is an octopus, Eddie is a pushover, and cuddles are had by all. soft and funny and just the perfect nighttime read <3 this might come last alphabetically, but it was the first fic i read this week, and what a delightful start it was!

[chelseeebe]

i’ll be your fool

part 2 to guilty as sin

18+. mdni. SMUT! mentions of alcohol briefly eddie munson x harrington!reader though no descriptions of r are used! no use of y/n.

a/n: heyyy i actually love this and i love their relationship and the sneakiness and so i do have another part for this because i cannot let them go so soon

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

eddie regrets a lot of things, but coming back with steve tonight might just be his biggest. 

the muffled sounds of sex takeover his ears, corrupting his mind and infecting him with all sorts of ridiculous, filthy thoughts. 

he, steve and christina had all gone out to some bar she had heard about, a good night, on reflection. hell, he’d even hit it off with some girl, talking music and all things steve never entertained. 

but then instead of doing the intelligent thing of taking her home, or even going home on his own, he’d happily agreed to join steve and come back here. 

he knows why, deep down. 

because to even have a minuscule chance of sleeping with you again, made that decision a whole lot easier. 

though, eddie’s not too sure it was the right decision. 

you hadn’t made a noise since they’d been back, there was no sign you were even here and now he’s stuck listening to the sordid events next door, trying his hardest not to get hard over his best friend. 

oh god. 

he could jerk off, he supposes. but that wouldn’t last long and these two showed no signs of slowing down. 

eddie desperately grinds his hips down into the mattress, it had been a while, alright? and by a while he means two weeks to the day since you’d lured him up to your room and crossed the line that should’ve never been entertained. 

he wonders if you can hear it. 

maybe you’re asleep. 

maybe you’re not even here. 

maybe he should check. 

make sure you were doing alright in these traumatising circumstances. 

who’s he trying to kid? 

his dick is aching and you’re potentially just a couple feet away, 

he’s already at your door before he can dwell on it, knocking softly, hoping to be heard above the rhythmic thumping of steve’s bed frame against the wall. 

for a second he thinks there’s no answer, until he hears the soft padding of your feet against the floor and it creaks open to reveal your already scantily clad frame. 

“c’mon,” beckoning him inside with your two fingers, turning the lock the second the door is closed behind him. 

to do this once should’ve been enough, but to crawl back in here a second time, already completely pent up and desperate for your touch, he should know better. 

your eyes trail down to the bulge in his boxers, widening just so when they meet his again, “that’s weird, eddie,” using his name to taunt him as you circle around, “do you wanna fuck my brother or something?”

“what? no- no.. jesus christ, i can’t.. can’t help it,” pulling at the fabric, now wishing he had just opted to jerk off instead. 

“i’m joking,” placing your palms flat on his chest, nudging him back towards the bed, “i’m assuming you didn’t come in here to talk,” walking your fingers downward. 

eddie shakes his head no, he’s not opposed to talking, but he can’t focus with this raging boner so perhaps you could do something about it first. 

his knees meet the edge of your bed, buckling as he falls down onto the mattress. he can only look up, infatuated with your cascading figure and the taunting, narrowed eyes that sit above. 

“sit back,” you order, knocking your knee into his to jump start his limbs into action before climbing atop, knees resting either side of his trembling thighs. 

“i thought this wasn’t happening again,” teasing in your tone, after all he had been the one to cut this off. his words were stern but gentle, making sure that you understood that it wasn’t you per say, but your brother. 

“i lied,” running his hands underneath your shirt, pinching at your doughy hips, “can’t stop thinking about you.. that night,” shifting himself so his feet are camped firmly on the mattress. 

“yeah?” one hand caressing his cheek, the other held tight on his shoulder, “i knew you’d come back,” moving slowly over his stiff cock, “you can’t help yourself.” 

eddie groans, unsure of whether from the sensation of your pussy rubbing against him or your words, however true they are. 

“you don’t have to rub it in,” he adds through gritted teeth, “i can go if.. if you want,” losing his train of thought with every jerk and whine. 

your hips rutting endlessly, he can feel his boxers dampen, a mixture of your arousal and his leaking cock to blame. 

“do you think i want you to go?” 

not really, but then, he could never be sure with you. 

eddie shakes his head, obedient as ever. he wasn’t about to let his loose lips and poor self esteem ruin this too. 

“so don’t say stupid things like that then,” staring at him in annoyance, too pent up to entertain his stupid mind games. 

you huff, tugging at his underwear until they rest just below his balls, cock springing up against his stomach as he struggles to contain himself for much longer. 

he’s only grateful that the sounds of he best friend are non-existent in your room. unsure if he could really put in the work with those distractions. 

kissing messily at his jaw, you pant, “what do you want, eddie?” grinding your hips down against his cock, a lacy thong the only thing keeping you apart.

“you.. fuuck- i need you,” he gasps, handfuls of your ass in hand, gone far beyond horny at this point. 

your lips quirk to the side, running your hand down the length of his torso, stopping just before his cock. “gotta be quiet, yeah?” before moving your panties to the side and fisting his dick, running his leaking tip between your soaked folds. 

“jesusfuckingchrist,” he rushes, cut off by your hand slapping against his mouth, he’d blow this whole thing wide open if he weren’t careful. 

your eyes roll slightly, lowering yourself onto his aching cock, muffling your own cries as you bite down onto your lip. 

eddie said never again before but now he’s not sure he can ever leave you alone. your thighs collide with his, producing a sickeningly filthy sound alongside your soaked cunt, the remembrance of that alone could get him off for the rest of his life. 

with your palm clamped firmly against his mouth, you pick up the pace, head thrown back towards the ceiling, using him purely to get off. 

eddie’s useless, watching as you ride his cock, mouth open in blissful pleasure though you’re doing a better job of keeping quiet than he is. cursing muffled swears into your hand, his high pitched whines coming out in hoarse grumbles, he needed to scream, start yodelling or something. 

“such a good boy,” muttering under your breath, the praise hits his ears with utmost delight, making his toes curl in tandem with his hips beginning to thrust mercilessly up against you. 

there’s no cohesiveness to the movement, your bed rocking with the sloppy movements. 

you let go of his mouth, entrusting him not to start yelling as you come to hold the back of his clammy neck. 

“holy.. fuck,” breathing his words, punctuating his thrusts, “s’all yours- shit,” burying his face into your neck, carelessly connecting his lips to the soft skin, dotting kisses haphazardly. 

your fingers curl into his hair, gently tugging at the roots as you near your orgasm, letting him take over the rhythm as your hips grow stagnant. 

your whines occupy his ears, “ohgodohfuck,” eddie can feel your thighs begin to tremble, resting all of your weight on his body. his thrusts become loose and without much effort, desperate to cum inside of you but not stupid enough to suggest it. 

“y’gonna cum?” he teases, his own orgasm near, switching the roles once more. your hips no doubt littered with markings of his fingertips, your ass red as a result of his grabby palms. 

“mmm,” you mewl, which he takes as a yes, sinking himself deep inside for the last thirty seconds he had to give to you. 

“fuu-uck,” pussy clenching around his throbbing cock, your body becoming completely malleable as you cum. 

eddie ruts up lazily, right up until he can last no longer and this becomes a game of russian roulete. lifting your writhing body from his cock, spurting his thick release over his boxers and your unsuspecting thighs. 

garbling a bunch of nonsense into the crook of your neck, “sh-shit, i’m sorry,” letting his arms hang loose, both of you reeling, panting in synchronicity. 

you roll off of him to the other side of the bed, sighing softly as you do so, trying to regain your bearings just as he was. 

the quiet is nice but he can’t stop his mind from wandering back to that moment only a fortnight ago. 

eddie has to do it. it had been inflicting his mind since you came onto him two weeks ago. 

i like them to be friends with my brother at least. 

he breaks the silence, “can i ask you a question?” maybe he’d regret it and maybe you’d kick him out without even answering, but he was anxious to know and you were docile. 

you hum, seemingly in agreement. 

“have you ever.. done this with steve’s friends before?” he was just curious, that’s all. he didn’t care if he was the first but he’d like to maybe be the last. 

“who told you?”

“who told me what?” turning to face you entirely, tracing patterns along your arm with his callous fingertips. 

you sigh, looking anywhere but his eyes, “i made out with tommy onc- a couple times,” your eyes roll, an obvious regret, “why d’you think they’re not friends anymore?” 

oh. 

the realisation hits, not so much making him regret what had just happened but instead a reminder that steve wouldn’t be delighted to find out about your escapades. eddie didn’t want to lose steve at all, but then you’d sigh and your lips would fall apart and he’s forgetting about the implications of it all immediately. 

he’s fucked. royally fucked. 

he should get out of this room- this bed, and leave it all alone. no good could come out of continuing to mess around with you. 

it’s clear you can tell he’s hesitant, watching his face with a frown, “it’s not that bad.. steve only found out because tommy told him,” shrugging his worries off, “you’re not gonna do that, are you?” 

he shakes his head no, resuming his fingered tracing of your body, “i wouldn’t,” because really, he’s not that stupid. 

you swallow, blinking before you begin, “i like having sex with you eddie,” coming to tap his cheek, drawing him from inside his head back to reality, “don’t ruin it.”

this is the part he’s most terrified about. 

the quiet, passive moments that had his heart thumping faster and faster, moments that blurred the line between just hooking up and something more. 

-

eddie wakes up slowly, your fingers drawing patterns on his scalp and the hum of the early morning from the window. your fingers weaving through his hair, sending shivers down his spine. 

oh no. 

this wasn’t a dream and this isn’t the bed he’s supposed to be in. 

he shoots up, almost knocking your dozing body onto the floor, laboured breaths that hurt his chest. 

“i fell asleep, i wasn’t supposed to fall asleep,” frantically trying to pull himself from the bed, a mess of nerves and adrenaline. 

how could he explain himself? 

steve would have him hung from the rafters if he so much as saw him in here.  

you grumble getting out of bed, being the only one of the two of you to possess any common sense. 

“just.. calm down,” throwing a glare his way, “i’ll check if he’s awake and then you can sneak out and no one will know,” shrugging on a discarded sweater, already sick of his worrisome look. 

you hold your finger up to your lips, demanding his silence before inching the door open. 

there’s faint chatter from downstairs, dishes clinking and then he can hear steve’s laugh. maybe they’d already peaked inside the guest room and found it empty, assuming he’d gone home. how would he ever explain that?

“coast is clear.. i’ll go down first, get dressed and come down in like ten minutes,” nodding so as to make sure he fully understood. 

he nods back, sliding off the bed in utmost silence, tiptoeing back to his rightful room with baited breath. 

he can’t hear steve’s accusations, or the inevitable screaming that’d come if they had happened to hear you. 

eddie counts to sixty ten times, and then another for good measure. convinced that steve would’ve marched upstairs by now if he had suspected anything. 

the stairs creak, giving his position away immediately. he’s still wary about needing to dash out of the door, prepared to leave his boots and run the four miles back home barefoot. 

“here he is,” steve announces, rummaging for another mug, “how’d you sleep?” wiggling his brows, pushing for eddie to mention the unmistakably obvious noises of sex. 

“yeah.. pretty good,” clearing his throat on arrival. you’re perched at the other end of the island, quietly sipping your own mug, pretending not to notice eddie’s gawping. 

steve’s hand claps him on the back, shoving the mug of coffee into his grasp, “i’m glad, we weren’t sure if we were too loud,” covertly bragging, ever the annoying prick. 

christina mumbles something, telling him to shut up and immediately turns to face you, pretending not to listen to the conversation. 

“well well, what were you doing last night?” christina titters, eyeing the violet marking on your neck. 

“oh um,” pulling your collar higher immediately, “i was just.. with a friend,” shying away from her questions. 

eddie tries to stop his cheeks from flushing, he hadn’t meant to leave any evidence, but he can’t help himself from getting turned on all over again at the sight of you, marked by him. 

“a friend? which friend?” steve grills, never not relinquishing the overprotective big brother act. 

well, it was your friend to be exact. not that eddie says it. 

“none of your business, thanks,” quickly shutting him down. it really was none of his business, mostly for his own sake. 

steve’s brows furrow, a deep set frown on his face as he eyes your neck, very clearly the cogs are turning in his head. eddie’s just grateful that he knows steve and thus, he knows he’ll never figure it out on his own. 

at least, he hopes. 

“aw poor eddie,” christina starts, swaying his attention loudly, “you must be the unluckiest man alive,” she giggles, ignoring steve’s prying and subsequent confusion. 

“yeah,” you nod, keeping your eyes on him, “poor eddie,” a mocking pout overcoming your lips. 

fuck, he felt smug being in on this little secret with you. steve liked to poke and prod at eddie, pretend he was just joking, only eddie knew he wasn’t really. 

but now he had this over him, one upping every jab and jest with the knowledge that he eddie had fucked his sister, right under his nose. 

[maretinelli]

ANYONE AGAINST THIS MARRIAGE

Lewis Hamilton X Engineer!fem!reader

Summary: Lewis and his chief engineer, Y/n, shared a forbidden romance that was cut short to protect their careers. Years later, Y/n stands at the altar, about to marry another man, when Lewis makes a shocking decision: he resigns from Mercedes and does the unthinkable to win back the love of his life.

Words: 8.5K+

Warnings: Anguish, Toto a little annoying, separation, heartbreak (of us readers too), mention of marriage and an extremely special ending

Author: English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes that may be made in writing and spelling. And this is a good idea, I hope it is good writing too, the idea came from an episode of Greys Anatomy.

MASTERLIST

The romance between Lewis Hamilton and Y/n began unexpectedly, a slip in Mercedes' strict rules that strictly prohibited any romantic interaction between engineers and drivers.

As Lewis’s chief engineer, Y/n was brilliant, dedicated and played a key role in his performance on the track. However, away from the spotlight and the rigours of the team, they found themselves caught in a bond that was impossible to ignore. Their passion grew between technical meetings and long nights working in the circuit garage.

Each meeting had to be carefully planned. To avoid suspicion, Lewis and Y/n chose isolated locations away from the team.

Weekends at country houses became their private refuge, where they could finally breathe without the weight of secrecy. The first time they spent together in one of these houses was magical: The smell of wood burning in the fireplace, the view of a snow-covered forest through the window, and the two of them, lying on a soft rug, sharing glasses of wine and conversations that went from technical details of the car to dreams they never dared to share with anyone else.

Sometimes, Lewis's apartment in Monaco was the perfect setting for romantic dinners. Y/n would arrive late at night, always making sure no one was following her. Lewis would greet her with a smile and a hug that made all fears disappear. They would cook together, with Y/n always making fun of Lewis's clumsiness in the kitchen, while he tried to impress her with improvised recipes. After dinner, they would share dessert on the couch, while Roscoe slept peacefully next to them, as if he knew he was witnessing true and pure love.

The winter months brought even more intimate moments. Wrapped up in blankets on the couch, they watched old movies, but they rarely paid attention. They were too busy making out, kissing, sharing smiles, and laughing at inside jokes. Lewis loved to see Y/n laugh, especially when she messed with his braids to tease him. It was in those moments that the weight of the rules and the outside world disappeared, and all that mattered was the unshakable connection between them.

Despite the intensity of these moments, the shadow of team rules constantly hung over their relationship. Every message exchanged, every stolen touch in meetings was a risk they were both willing to take, but one that also terrified them.

After all, if they were discovered, they could lose not only their careers, but also the opportunity to be together.

The dilemma was constant, but the love they shared kept them moving forward. They both knew they were playing with fire, but as long as they were together, the risk was worth it.

The Mercedes factory in Brackley exuded professionalism. Glass rooms lined the corridors, offering a clear view of engineers focused on their computers, designing parts and analyzing data.

White lights illuminated the impeccably organized environment, and the sound of keys being pressed and technical conversations echoed through the hallways. It was the heart of the team, where dreams of victory were shaped and adjusted.

Y/n walked down the hallway with firm steps. She was wearing her Mercedes team polo shirt, which perfectly matched her dark tailored pants and low sneakers, which echoed lightly on the tiled floor.

Her hair was tied up in a practical bun, a few loose strands framing her focused face.

Upon reaching the room where Toto, the team leader, had summoned her, Y/n stopped for a moment, adjusted her posture and knocked lightly on the door, which was already ajar.

"Excuse me. Hi, did you call me here?" His voice was calm and professional, but it held a slight curiosity.

Toto, who was standing in the center of the room, nodded in confirmation. He wore his classic, impeccably pressed white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and looked serious, with his arms crossed over his chest.

His expression was impassive, almost intimidating, but it was something Y/n was used to seeing in the most tense meetings.

It was then that Y/n's eyes furrowed, noticing that they weren't alone in the room. Leaning against a steel cabinet next to the glass wall, with his arms crossed and his posture relaxed, was Lewis Hamilton.

He seemed oblivious to the tension in the room, though his eyes were discreetly watching her.

Y/n's heart skipped a beat when she saw him there. She knew it was only natural, after all, Lewis was the team's main driver, and they were probably there to discuss something related to the car.

But even so, his presence always had an effect on her that she couldn't control. Feeling the weight of his gaze for a brief moment, she swallowed hard and focused on Toto, who didn't seem to notice her inner turmoil.

"Thank you for coming so quickly, Y/n," Toto said, his deep voice filling the room.

"Sure!" Trying to keep her composure, Y/n nodded and walked into the room.

Toto broke the silence that hung over the room with his firm, serious voice.

"You guys really didn't read the rules, did you?"

The dry and direct tone made Y/n and Lewis look at each other quickly, surprised by the statement. A small nervous smile escaped them both, a reflection of the tension that was beginning to accumulate in the environment.

Lewis even let out a short, almost inaudible laugh, while Y/n bit her lip lightly, looking away.

"It's not funny" Toto added, crossing his arms even tighter against his chest, his rigid posture making it clear he wasn't there to joke around.

The smile on Y/n and Lewis' faces disappeared almost instantly. The silence in the room grew even heavier as the two waited for what Toto would say next.

"I know about your relationship."

Y/n felt the ground disappear beneath her feet for a moment, as Lewis uncrossed his arms, his body assuming a more tense posture.

Neither of them said anything; there was nothing to say.

Toto continued, not giving time for any reaction.

"You both know this is strictly forbidden. It's not just about you. And not about what you do or don't do away from the track. It's about the team, about Mercedes' reputation, about how this could be interpreted if it leaks. Do you understand the risk you're taking and the risk you're putting us all at?" Each word carried a weight that made it clear how serious the situation was. "I'm not here to judge you," Toto continued, sighing as he ran a hand over his face, clearly frustrated. "But this can't go on!!"

Silence reigned for a moment. Y/n wanted to speak, to defend herself, but the words simply wouldn't come out. She felt Lewis's gaze on her, but she didn't have the courage to raise her head.

The only thing I could think was that all the effort to keep their relationship a secret had been in vain, and now, everything was about to fall apart.

Toto remained standing, his stern gaze darting from one to the other, waiting for some answer, but neither of them seemed ready to speak.

"Toto, I know we broke the rules. I know what that means, but... it doesn't change the fact that we're professionals. We've never let our relationship interfere with work." Lewis finally realized.

Toto raised an eyebrow, clearly irritated by the excuse. "Professionals?" he repeated, almost sarcastically. "Lewis, this is Mercedes we're talking about. One of the biggest Formula 1 teams in the world. Do you really think that if this gets out, anyone will care how 'professional' you were? No! What will matter is that two team members broke basic rules.

Y/n felt her face heat up, a mixture of shame and guilt consuming her. She finally found the courage to lift her head, but before she could speak, Toto continued.

"You two are brilliant at what you do. No one can deny that. But this... personal situation? It puts everything at risk. If any journalist or competitor finds out, you know it will be used against us. Against you, Lewis. And against you, Y/n."

Y/n’s eyes widened slightly, and the pain in his words hit her hard. Toto was right. She knew it. But hearing the consequences laid out so clearly was like a punch to the gut.

"Toto..." Y/n began, her voice wavering. "I never meant to put the team at risk. We were careful, I swear. But..." She hesitated, her voice trailing off as she looked at Lewis, who was staring at her with an expression that seemed to say he would support her no matter what.

"But?" Toto pressed, his piercing eyes fixed on her.

"But it's not something we can avoid." The words came out almost as a whisper, and she felt a wave of emotion threaten to wash over her.

Toto held up a hand, signaling that he didn't want to hear any more excuses. "This can't go on," he said, his voice firm. "Either you finish whatever you have, or I'll have to fire one of you."

The words fell like lightning in the room.

Y/n's heart seemed to stop for a moment, as her mind struggled to process Toto's ultimatum. Her eyes widened slightly, and she felt a lump form in her throat. Lewis, who had maintained a serious posture, clenched his hands into fists at his sides, his jaw tense, betraying the pent-up anger.

They both knew how much their jobs meant to them.

For Y/n, being chief engineer at Mercedes was the result of years of dedication, sleepless nights, and the sacrifice of personal moments. It was his passion, what gave meaning to his career.

For Lewis, Mercedes was his home, the place where he built his glory, and every race was more than a competition. It was a legacy.

The weight of Toto's threat was almost unbearable. He knew exactly where to hit so they would understand the gravity of the situation.

"I don't want it to come to that. You're both brilliant at what you do, and the team needs you. But you have to sort it out. Now."

He looked at both of them once more, as if expecting them to say something, but silence remained. Then, Toto sighed deeply and took a step towards the glass door.

"Think carefully about what you're going to do. Because I'm not going to give you another chance." With that, he opened the door and left, leaving a heavy void in the room.

As soon as the door closed, Y/n let out a sob she had been holding in, the tears finally spilling over. She brought her hands to her face, trying to muffle the sound as her body shook.

"Y/n..." Lewis immediately approached, his voice soft but filled with concern.

He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, and the simple touch made Y/n fall apart even more. Lewis quickly pulled her into his arms, holding her tight as she cried against his chest. He stroked her back in slow motions, trying to comfort her, but his own heart was in pieces.

"It's going to be okay," he whispered, though even he didn't know how they could fix this. "We'll figure it out, I promise."

Y/n just shook her head against him, tears wetting the fabric of Lewis's shirt.

She pulled away from Lewis's embrace slightly, but before she could say anything, he cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs gently wiping away the tears that were still falling.

"Lew..." She began, her voice low and shaky. "Toto's right."

Lewis froze. The weight of those words seemed to pull him to the ground. He looked deep into Y/n's eyes, sadness and disbelief written all over his face.

"No..." Hamilton whispered, barely audible, but Y/n continued.

"I don't want either of us to leave Mercedes. This job... it's our passion. It's what we love to do." Her voice wavered, but she kept her gaze steady on his, even as tears filled her eyes. "But I don't want to break up with you either, Lewis. It's too painful..." Her voice broke, and she closed her eyes for a moment, trying to keep calm. "But I think we need to look after our reputations, the team. We can't risk all that."

Lewis took a deep breath, feeling his chest tighten as if something was being ripped out of him. He knew she was right. He had known it since the moment Toto confronted them. But accepting it was another matter.

"What do you think?" Y/n asked, her voice a whisper.

Lewis looked away for a moment, his hands still holding her face. He wanted to scream, to fight the entire world if he had to, but he also knew there was no choice.

"I'd do anything for you, Y/n," he replied, his voice husky. "As long as you're okay... If you think that's what's best, then... we'll break up." The words felt surreal as they left his mouth, and he hated every single one of them.

Y/n let out a sob as she heard his confirmation. She nodded slowly, tears falling harder now.

"I just want you to be okay too" she murmured as he slowly released her face.

Lewis swallowed hard, the sight of her so vulnerable before him breaking his heart into pieces.

"I'll stay..." He said, though tears began to stream down his cheeks. "I promise!"

Slowly, she turned towards the door, each step feeling more difficult than the last.

"Y/n..." Lewis called, his voice low but thick with emotion.

She stopped, turning just enough to look at him over her shoulder.

"Be okay, okay?" He asked, his voice breaking at the end. "I'll have your things sent to my house by the end of the week...if that's okay."

Y/n nodded again, forcing a small smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Thank you... for everything. Really."

And with that, she left the room, leaving Lewis alone, tears streaming freely as he stared at the door she had just walked through.

The silence that was left behind was deafening, and he knew that the pain would stay with him for a long time.

•••••••••••••••••••••

After leaving the classroom that day, Y/n ran into Toto in the hallway. She stopped in front of him, took a deep breath, and told him that she and Lewis were over. Toto just nodded, his face expressionless as he thanked her briefly. There was no comfort or kind words, just the coldness of someone who knew she had made a difficult but necessary decision.

After the breakup, both Y/n and Lewis faced a period of adaptation. The work, previously full of complicity and discreet laughter, became tense and uncomfortable.

They both avoided direct contact whenever possible, and when it was unavoidable, their interactions were brief and professional. The air between them always felt charged, as if something unsaid lingered there, but over time, that tension began to ease.

The days turned into weeks, and eventually, they found a balance, albeit distant, to keep the professional dynamic intact.

Months passed, and Y/n slowly began to rebuild her personal life.

Eventually, she met Andrew, a passionate chef with a warm personality and a smile that seemed to light up any room. He was completely different to Lewis: more laid-back, with a career away from the pressure and glitz of F1 racing. Most importantly, physically he was nothing like the driver. He was blond, blue-eyed and taller.

He treated her with affection and dedication, always paying attention to the little things that made her smile. It was clear that Andrew loved her deeply, but he was not Lewis.

Lewis watched from afar. He saw Andrew accompanying Y/n to the races, always by her side, showing support and affection. In everyone's eyes, they seemed like a perfect couple, but Hamilton knew something was missing.

Even after months since the breakup, he still missed Y/n, and seeing her apparent happiness with Andrew was like a knife to his heart. He knew he had no right to feel this way anymore, but that didn't make the pain any easier to bear.

Y/n liked Andrew. But he didn't love him like he loved Lewis.

Deep down, she knew he was just an attempt to fill the void Lewis had left. Even in the happiest moments, she found herself thinking about what it was like to be with Lewis, the connection they had, and the feelings that never quite went away.

About a year after the breakup, rumors started circulating around the team that Y/n was engaged to Andrew.

When Lewis first heard it, he dismissed it as gossip, but confirmation came abruptly.

He was in the garage when he saw Carmen, George's girlfriend, approach Y/n with a wide smile, holding her hands and congratulating her.

"The ring is beautiful, Y/n! I'm so happy for you!" Carmen's words were full of enthusiasm, but to Lewis, they were an unexpected blow.

His eyes immediately sought out Y/n, who smiled at Carmen in thanks. She raised her hand, and the glint of the ring on her finger was unmistakable.

Y/n and Carmen have always had a close relationship. Ever since Carmen started accompanying George to races, Y/n was one of the first to take her under her wing, helping her feel at ease in a predominantly male environment. This friendship grew stronger over the years, making Carmen one of the few people Y/n could vent to and fully trust.

After that scene, Lewis excused himself from the staff, saying he had to make an important call. And as soon as he got to his driver's room, he cried. He cried a lot, called his mother and vented.

After hanging up the call with his mother, Lewis remained seated, staring into space. The pain he felt seemed to overflow as he unlocked his phone and began to review the photos he had of Y/n.

They were happy moments: shared smiles, knowing looks, the reflection of a love that, for him, was still so present.

He slid his fingers over the screen, but his vision began to blur as tears fell, one after another.

He quickly tried to dry them when he heard a knock on the door. When he opened the door, he found Russell. He was there to call Lewis to a meeting, but seeing him in that state, George didn't need any explanation and with a simple and spontaneous gesture, he hugged Lewis.

And for the first time, Lewis allowed himself to be vulnerable in front of a friend, without having to say a word.

Months passed, and Y/n immersed herself in preparations for the engagement party.

It was an event that was supposed to be filled with loved ones, and she made sure to invite almost all of her teammates. Andrew, her fiancé, encouraged her to include Lewis, since He was an important part of her team and her routine. What Andrew didn't know was that Lewis had been much more than that to her.

An invitation to an engagement party arrived in the mail, and when he received it, Lewis stood motionless, staring at the envelope. He opened it carefully, his eyes scanning the printed words. He read and reread the invitation several times, the weight of the situation hitting him hard.

In the end, he decided not to attend. He sent a short message to Y/n, apologizing and saying that he would be spending the weekend of the party at his mother's house.

It was a lie, of course. He just couldn't bear to see her so close to someone else.

As she planned the details of the wedding, Y/n couldn’t get Lewis out of her head. Every decision she made seemed inevitably linked to him. The flowers they chose, the soundtrack for the ceremony, even the location of the reception, everything seemed to echo the conversations they had late at night, when they talked about what their perfect wedding would be like.

One afternoon, Y/n invited Carmem to help her choose her wedding dress. They visited several stores, and the engineer tried on several models, but none of them seemed right.

"You look stunning in this" Carmen said excitedly.

"I don't know... I guess it's not exactly what I want," Y/n replied, discouraged, always finding a flaw.

"Y/n, you look amazing in all of them! What's the problem?"

Y/n shrugged, but inside she knew the reason. None of those dresses felt right because none of them were like the one she had described to Lewis years ago.

After hours of searching, Y/n was about to give up, but something caught her eye. She stopped abruptly in front of a display window. And there it was: The perfect dress. The dress she had described to Lewis. Every detail was exactly what she had dreamed of.

Carmem, who was walking a little ahead, noticed that Y/n was no longer by her side. Turning around, she saw her friend standing there, her eyes teary.

"That's it" Y/n said, her voice breaking.

Without questioning, Carmem held her hand and pulled her into the store. Y/n put on the dress and, upon leaving the fitting room, she saw Carmem and the attendant smiling from ear to ear.

"It's perfect! It feels like it was made for you."

Y/n stared at her reflection in the mirror, tears sliding softly down her face. "It was made for me," she murmured, her chest tightening.

Because, deep down, she knew that that dress symbolized much more than her wedding day: It was a reminder of the love she could never forget.

One month until the wedding.

Y/n was sitting at her desk at Mercedes HQ, her fingers tightly wrapped around the invitation she was supposed to give to Lewis.

The sheet of paper gleamed elegantly in the office light, with the names 'Y/n and Andrew' engraved in gold letters. It looked perfect, but at the same time, wrong. She read and reread the words over and over, hoping they would magically change to 'Y/n and Lewis'.

The invitation weighed heavily on her hands like a cruel reminder of what could not be. For a moment, memories of a past filled with laughter, touches, and stolen glances flooded back. But a sudden knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.

"Come in!" She said, quickly putting the invitation away in one of the desk drawers.

One of the younger engineers appeared, carrying a clipboard covered in graphs and technical reports. “Sorry to bother you, boss, but we need to review the suspension parameters for the next stage. There’s something odd about the telemetry data, and we’d like your feedback.”

Y/n smiled despite the turmoil in her chest. "Sure, I can take a look. It's probably some calibration-related error. I can check in the chart room."

The young man nodded, thanking her with a shy nod. "Okay, we'll wait for you." He said, and then began to close the door, but Y/n interrupted.

"Do you know where Hamilton is?"

He looks up, thinking for a moment. "That's the last time he and George were in the break room. He should still be there."

Y/n nods and mumbles a quick thank you, making the boy smile gently and close the door to her office.

As soon as he left, Y/n opened the drawer again.

She had a battle. While it felt wrong to call the love of her life to watch her marry someone else, her brain was telling her that delivering the invitation was just another way to be kind and professional and not rude to his feelings.

The hope that Lewis could react, that he could stop her, even if it was madness, took hold of her.

Y/n stood up and walked with determined steps to where he would probably be, holding the envelope tightly in her hand. Each step felt like a challenge, her head telling her to forget the idea, while her heart whispered to continue.

When he reached the hallway that led to the living room, he saw Lewis from afar, leaning against the wall and laughing at something George had just said. The sound of his laughter brought out a wave of emotions, and Yin stopped for a moment, gathering the courage to call out to him.

But before she could take the next step, Carmen appeared beside her, smiling radiantly.

"Y/n!" Carmen called, not noticing her friend's slight startle. "George and I received the invitation last week! Everything is so beautiful, the design is perfect, and I loved the sweet message. I was so excited to be your godmother!"

Y/n smiled, feeling relieved. "I'm glad you liked it," she replied, while discreetly tucking the invitation into her coat pocket.

"It's really beautiful, you know? The color palette... you nailed it" Carmen continued, while Y/n just smiled.

The mention of colors made Y/n's heart clench, for she knew that those soft shades of blue and white were exactly what Lewis had suggested when, years ago, the two had joked about what their wedding would be like.

As Carmen continued talking, Lewis, standing next to George, began to catch fragments of the conversation. He heard enough to understand the topic: The Wedding. And like a sharp blade, pain cut off his breath for an instant.

The invitation. The wedding. The realization that she was actually moving on, with someone else, seemed like something he couldn't quite accept, even though he knew it was inevitable.

He looked away from George, who was still talking about upcoming race strategies, but Lewis couldn't focus.

"Lewis? Are you listening?" George asked, arching an eyebrow at his friend's lack of attention.

"Hm? Yeah, sure," he replied, but his voice was vague.

Before George could insist, Carmen called him, saying it was time for them to go. George nodded, quickly saying goodbye to Lewis, and as he passed Y/n, he gave her a friendly pat on the back.

"Hey, thanks for the wedding invitation. Everything looks really beautiful." He smiles genuinely and friendly.

Y/n smiled back, but the sparkle in her eyes didn't hide the sadness she felt. "I would never leave you aside at such an important moment." She replied, sincerely, but with a voice full of something more.

Lewis watched it all, feeling his heart sink deeper with each word. The weight of reality was crushing.

As soon as the couple walked away, Y/n looked up and noticed that Lewis was starting to walk in the opposite direction.

“Lewis” she called, her voice soft but full of intent. He stopped, turning to her with that sweet smile she knew so well, but which now seemed distant. “I need to talk to you.”

"Sure, yes. We can go to my office."

He probably thought it was about the car, because for the past year and a half, all their conversations had been about work. This emotional distance they had created made the moment even more difficult.

Upon arriving at Lewis's room, he opened the door, holding it so that Y/n could enter first. The room was small but cozy, with a dark wooden table covered in technical notes, charts and a small Union Jack flag.

Y/n barely had time to look around before something specific caught her eye: A picture frame on Lewis's desk. She recognized the image immediately.

It was a photo of the two of them, taken three years ago, during a weekend at a circuit.

In the photo, Y/n was smiling broadly, standing behind Lewis with her arms around his shoulders. She was wearing a Mercedes cap, but she wasn't wearing her uniform. Unlike Lewis, who was wearing his dark overalls, but had a smile that lit up the entire city.

For those who didn't know about their relationship, I would say it was just a friendly photo of the engineer with her pilot. But for them, that photo had a great emotional impact.

Lewis noticed where Y/n's gaze went and, in a quick gesture, walked to the table, picking up the picture frame and lowering it discreetly, as if trying to erase that memory. He thought Y/n hadn't noticed, but she saw everything.

She looked away from the living room window, squeezing her eyes shut to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. It wasn't just the image that hurt. It was symbolism. That photo represented everything they had been and what they would never be again.

"What did you want to talk about, dear?" Lewis asked, his voice low, almost fearful.

But Y/n still needed a moment to breathe before answering.

Lewis waited patiently for the engineer's response, his eyes searching hers, but the hesitation on his face was evident.

"I..." She began, but words failed her for a moment. "I needed to deliver something to you."

Lewis frowned curiously, but remained silent as he watched her reach into her coat pocket. With slow, reluctant movements, Y/n pulled out the invitation. Her hands trembled as she held it for a brief moment before holding it out to him.

He took the paper carefully, as if it were something precious, but at the same time a weapon that could hurt him. Upon opening it, he saw the golden letters highlighting the names 'Y/n and Andrew'

His eyes roamed over the palette of blues and whites, so familiar, so intimate. It was like a punch in the gut, a reminder of what he imagined they would one day be.

"Thank you" Lewis said, a forced smile that didn't reach his eyes. His voice was low, trying to sound gentle, but it failed to hide the pain that filled him.

Before he could say anything else, Y/n interrupted him. “I… I didn’t know if I should call you,” she began, her voice shaking. “Because of everything that happened between us. Because of everything we had. But… Andrew insisted. He thinks that since you’re my colleague and teammate, you should be there.”

Lewis looked up from the invitation and stared at Y/n, his expression a mix of surprise and sadness.

"He doesn't know, does he?" Lewis asked, his voice coming out in a whisper.

Y/n shook her head, a bitter smile playing on her lips. "No... I never told him. I never could. How could I explain? He's... He's an amazing man, Lewis. A good, kind, patient man..." She paused, and her eyes filled with tears. "But... I can't feel with him what I felt with you. What I still feel."

Lewis felt a lump in his throat at that. He wanted to say something, but he didn’t know if he should. She continued. “I’ve tried, Lewis. I really have. I thought that if I put my past behind me, I could build something new, something that would make me forget. But I can’t. And yet here I am, trying to move on from something that feels so wrong…”

The pilot took a deep breath, the invitation still in his hands. He looked at her with an expression that mixed pain and tenderness. "Y/n..." He paused, as if trying to organize the words. "I just want you to be happy. That's what matters to me. It always has been."

Y/n let out a short, almost humorless laugh, wiping away a tear that was running down her face, "Happy!"

He frowned. "What's up?"

"Nothing, forget it." She shakes her head, trying to keep the tears away. "But... he's not you, you know. As safe as I feel with him, Andrew isn't you..."

Lewis looked away, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall. "And why didn't you tell me this before, Y/n?"

"Because it wouldn't make a difference," she replied quickly. "Because we both know that...that things would never be simple for us. They weren't then and they wouldn't be now. I thought moving on would be better for both of us."

"Did you think... or were you afraid?" Lewis asked, his eyes returning to hers. He sighed and took a step closer. "I've never wanted anything but your best interests, Y/n. Even now, even now that you're marrying another man. If that's what you want, I'm happy."

“It’s not what I want!” Y/n cried out in a whisper, her emotions finally overflowing. She covered her face with her hands, trying to hold back her tears. “But I feel like I have no choice.”

Lewis hesitated before stepping even closer, touching her shoulder. "You always have a choice, Y/n. Always have. The question is: What does your heart truly want?"

She looked up at him, her face wet with tears, but she couldn't answer. Because at that moment, what she wanted most was right in front of her, but it seemed as impossible as a dream she could never achieve.

The engineer just shakes her head and starts walking to the door. "Look, it's okay if you don't want to go. But thank you for everything. You know!"

Lewis smiles and before she can leave, he calls out to her. "Y/n!"

"Try?"

"Can I give you one last kiss, then?"

Y/n sobbed, tears falling faster now. She nodded, smiling and approaching the pilot.

With slow, hesitant steps, she approached him. Lewis stood still for a moment, his eyes fixed on hers, as if trying to record every detail. When she finally stopped in front of him, he raised one of his hands, gently touching Y/n's face, wiping away one of the tears that were falling.

It was as if time had stopped, and in that moment, nothing else existed. No pain, no doubt, no wedding planned. Just the two of them, in that moment.

When their lips touched, it was as if all the weight that Y/n was carrying disappeared. The kiss was slow, filled with a love that had never disappeared, with a longing that they both tried to ignore, but that consumed them. His hands delicately held her face, while Y/n's rested on his chest, feeling his heart beating strongly under her fingers.

The love, the pain, the desire to go back in time. It was as if they both knew that that moment would be their last, and so they gave themselves completely.

When they separated, Y/n kept her eyes closed for a moment, as if she wanted to keep that feeling forever. Lewis rested his forehead against hers, taking a deep breath, trying to compose himself.

"If this really is goodbye..." he began, his voice breaking, "I just want you to know that you were, and always will be, the love of my life."

Y/n opened her eyes, tears streaming down her face again, but she smiled. "And you will be mine." A sad smile, but full of truth. "I love you."

Lewis hugged her. "I know. Because I love you too." He kissed her hair and then let her go. Let her go so she could marry someone else.

Y/n smiled and then left the room, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. Meanwhile, Lewis stared at that invitation, feeling his chest boil with emotions.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

November 10th - Wedding Day

It had been weeks since she had last seen Lewis. After that kiss, she had withdrawn completely, taking a few days off to prepare for the wedding and avoid any contact with him. It was better this way, she told herself. But even now, as she adjusted her veil, it was impossible to avoid the memory of him.

What should have been the happiest day of her life had a weight that she couldn't ignore. The smile that should have been plastered on her face was nothing more than a facade. And, despite the eyes of everyone around her full of expectation, she knew, deep down, that this wasn't the happy ending she had dreamed of.

The sky was covered with gray clouds, so heavy that they seemed to reflect the state of mind of someone who was silently fighting against memories. Despite it being a day important in the lives of two people, there was something in the air that seemed to say that not everyone was at peace with what was about to happen.

Y/n was in the dressing room, looking at her silhouette in the mirror. Her dress was definitely a work of art, it was a strapless design with a waist-hugging silhouette that flared out into a voluminous skirt. Delicate embroidery of flowers ran across the satin fabric, almost as if they had been carefully embroidered by hand.

She felt a few tears fall, but quickly wiped them away when someone knocked on the door and it opened.

"Hey, my girl. Is everything ready?" Her father asked with a soft smile. Y/n just nodded, unable to speak without her voice betraying the emotions she was trying to hide.

He noticed. Of course he did. It was her father. He knew what had happened between her and Lewis months ago, he knew everything. But he chose not to talk about it. He understood that those tears she was trying to hide were not tears of happiness for the wedding, but of regret.

Regret for not having fought harder for something that now seemed lost.

Gently, he reached out and took her hand. "Come on, honey. It's time."

Walking down the stairs together, her father comforted her with soft words and funny stories to distract her. He did his best to dispel his daughter's dark thoughts, and she, trying to reciprocate, smiled slightly as they walked to the car.

Across town, amid the chaos of cameras and journalists, Lewis was leaving a press conference that had everyone going crazy. His tone was firm, but his eyes betrayed an internal struggle. He had made an important decision, but the world still didn’t know what it really meant.

And now, he drove to the church to make his second important decision of the day.

Meanwhile, Y/n was already in the car, sitting in the back seat. Her father continued talking, telling stories about when she was little, making her smile as the driver drove to the church.

They arrived earlier than expected. Her father helped Y/n out of the car, and they headed to a private area where no guests could see her. She held the bouquet tightly, as if it anchored her to reality.

But her eyes wandered around the room, and then she saw him. The person who should perhaps be there with her, at the altar.

Lewis stood next to George, heading toward the church pews. He looked radiant, but his eyes were slightly red, as if he had been crying recently. Even so, his presence seemed to fill the entire space.

Y/n started to cry. They weren't silent tears this time; they were sobs that escaped uncontrollably. Her father quickly approached, holding her shoulders and trying to calm her down. "It's okay, sweetie. Take deep breaths. You can do it."

With that, the bridesmaids, groomsmen and bridesmaids entered the church. Carmem, unaware of what was happening to her friend, walked down the aisle until she reached her place at the altar.

The wedding planner ran over to Y/n, worried about her delay. "Are you okay? It's time to go in."

Y/n shook her head, trying to control her tears. "Just a few more minutes, please."

The wedding planner hurried back inside. She approached the groom, Andrew, who was looking anxious at the altar, and whispered something to him. "She's excited. She just needs a moment more." Andrew sighed in relief, thinking Y/n's tears were tears of happiness.

Outside, Y/n took a deep breath, trying to gather strength. Her father, always by her side, squeezed her hand. "If you're not ready, we can stop. It doesn't matter what others think."

But Y/n just smiled, a fragile smile. "I can do that."

When the wedding planner returned, Y/n nodded. She was better, or so it seemed. Her father looked at her fondly and offered his arm. "Come on, my girl."

The church doors opened, and the music began to play. All the guests stood up, turning to watch her enter. Y/n walked along the carpet she had chosen months before, holding tightly onto her father's arm. Her face displayed a smile that seemed natural to everyone, but inside her it was just a mask.

And then, just a few feet from the altar, she saw him again. Lewis. He was smiling at her, but that smile carried so many emotions that it made her stop. Her body froze for a moment, unable to take another step.

Her father leaned over to her and whispered, "It's okay, honey. Keep going. I'm here with you."

She smiled weakly and resumed her walk, step by step, until she reached the altar. There, her father handed her hand to Andrew, who held it gently. And so, the ceremony began, but inside Y/n's heart, the real storm was just beginning.

The priest began with his traditional words, speaking about love, commitment and the union of two souls who have decided to walk the same path.

Y/n heard every word, but her mind seemed to be somewhere else. Her breathing was controlled, but her thoughts were far away, as if trying to escape that inevitable moment.

And when it was time for the vows, Y/n told Andrew everything she had saved for Lewis. She said every word imagining Lewis there, and the pilot who was sitting a few feet away from her noticed.

The priest gave the couple his blessing, wishing them to be blessed with happiness and prosperity. The ceremony was almost over when he said the phrase everyone had been waiting for:

"If there is anyone against this marriage, speak now or forever hold your peace."

The church fell silent. The guests looked at each other, some even chuckled, thinking that no one would dare to interrupt something so perfect.

But then, the sound of footsteps echoed through the church. Someone stood up. All eyes turned to the back. And there he was.

"I have something to say."

The guests looked at each other in shock. George, who was standing next to him, widened his eyes and grabbed his friend's arm tightly. "Lewis, what are you doing?" he whispered, trying to pull him back to the bench.

But Lewis just smiled, as if to say that everything was fine. He calmly let go of George's arm and began walking down the aisle. Murmurs grew among the guests as everyone tried to understand what was happening.

Y/n's eyes were wide, her heart pounding so hard she thought everyone could hear it. She was in disbelief. He was really there. Fighting for them. Something she didn't have the courage to do, something she deeply regretted.

But inside, an unexpected feeling began to grow. Relief.

Lewis stopped in the middle of the hallway, turning directly to Y/n. His expression was a mix of determination and excitement. He took a deep breath before speaking.

"I know I shouldn't do this here, I should have done it a long time ago. But I couldn't let you go on without knowing... without knowing what you mean to me. Y/n, you were the starting point of my happiness. Since the day I met you, I knew you were different. You are the person who changed my story, who gave color to my life."

He took a step forward, without taking his eyes off her, who was still frozen, holding the bouquet with trembling hands.

"In the timeline of my life, you have always been my most special moment. The before and after of you was the biggest transformation I have ever experienced. And even with all the mistakes, with the distance, with what separated us, my heart never left you. How long have I been waiting to find someone like you, who would fit into the plans I made for myself." Everyone in the church was silent, only the sound of Y/n's sobs and Lewis's words echoed through the room. "I know I should have fought harder, but I won't let this happen again. Not today. Not now." He sighs. "I... I resigned from Mercedes!"

Y/n's eyes widen, Carmen and George hold back a muffled scream in their throats and Lewis sighs, smiling, before continuing.

"The rules said that we had to separate or someone would have to leave for us to continue seeing each other. So, I decided to leave. I'm going to Ferrari next season... Because I've already suffered enough, but away from you I'll suffer even more. When I get home, and I don't see you, my desire is to call you running. And little by little, loneliness and silence embrace me. My joy has passed, only the memories of love, they don't pass. I really love you Y/n, and if you don't want me anymore, just go ahead with the wedding, and I'll leave, but if you still have a little bit of the feeling inside you, I want you to fight. Fight for us!"

Y/n felt her heart tighten, as if it were trying to burst out of her chest. Lewis's words echoed through the church, resonating within her in a way nothing else could. 'Fight for us.' That was enough to break the last barriers she had put up around what she felt.

She wanted to run to him. Hug him, shout that she loved him, that she had never stopped loving him, that he was everything she had ever wanted. But there was Andrew, standing beside her, looking at her with an expression of curiosity and, at the same time, acceptance.

For a moment, Y/n's eyes met Andrew's, and she saw something she never expected to see: Understanding. He sighed, his lips curving into a sad smile, but kind.

"It's okay if you want to go..." Andrew said, his voice cracking but sincere. "I see the way he looks at you... and the way you look at him. Eventually, I realized that you two had something in the past." He took a deep breath, wiping away a tear that was falling, "Of course, my heart breaks, because I love you too. But I can't hold you back from something that clearly makes you unhappy. You deserve to be completely happy."

His words were like a balm to Y/n's soul. Her heart felt lighter, as if a huge stone had been lifted from her shoulders. She smiled at Andrew, her eyes filling with tears, but for the first time in a long time, tears of relief.

"You're an incredible man, Andrew," Y/n said, holding his hands for a brief moment. "Kind, loving, someone anyone would be lucky to have by their side. But I... my heart has never left the place where it has always been. Thank you for understanding me, for being so good. And I hope you find someone who loves you with the same intensity that I love Lewis."

Andrew smiled, his eyes still shining with tears, and leaned down to kiss her cheek. "Go on," he whispered.

Y/n turned to Carmen, who was taking the bouquet she had just handed her, and her friend just smiled, encouraging her with a slight nod. Her parents were sitting in the front row, and their eyes told her what she needed: Unconditional support.

With her heart lighter than ever, Y/n took a deep breath and began walking down the steps to the altar. Every step seemed to echo through the church, every gaze was on her, but none of that mattered. All she saw was Lewis.

He was standing in the hallway, his eyes red and wet, but a shy smile on his face, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. When Y/n finally got close to him, he took a step forward, but he couldn't contain his emotion. Tears of relief and joy began to fall down his face.

Y/n smiled at him, crying too, but for the first time in a long time, she felt whole. Without hesitation, she ran the last few steps, throwing her arms around Lewis, who held her as if his life depended on it.

"I should have never let you go," he whispered, his voice cracking.

"And I should never have left you without a fight," she replied, pulling her closer as the people in the church watched the scene with eyes shining with emotion.

With a radiant smile on their faces and a feeling of freedom in their chests, Lewis and Y/n ran out of the church, leaving everyone behind. George and Carmen, who were now in the background, watched the scene with knowing smiles. They knew how much Y/n and Lewis loved each other, and the happiness of seeing the two finally together filled their hearts with joy.

Lewis opened the car door in a hurry, Y/n got in, pulling her dress inside and smiling like never before. The atmosphere in the car was one of pure happiness, the road ahead seemed endless, but that didn't matter.

The feeling of freedom and love was what mattered now. They had no specific destination, they were just together, enjoying the moment, making silent vows of love as the road took them wherever fate wanted.

After some time, with no destination in mind, they found a small, isolated chapel in the countryside that looked like something out of a fairy tale. Without any great plans, but with a full heart, they decided that this would be the place to start their story over again. Only the priest and a forest ranger, who seemed to be the only ones present, served as witnesses to what would be the beginning of a new journey.

The ceremony was simple, but full of meaning. They exchanged knowing looks, full of love and complicity. When the moment came, Y/n declared: "I take Lewis Hamilton as my lawful husband." Lewis, with tears in his eyes, responded with the same intensity: "I take Y/n as my lawful wife."

The simple wedding, without any great ostentation, was exactly what they had always dreamed of. After all, what really mattered was not the luxury or the party, but the fact that they had each other. And with that, the whole world seemed to be within their reach.

After the ceremony, when they left the chapel, Lewis held Y/n's hand as they walked back to the car, both of them smiling as if nothing else mattered. He turned to her, a smile on his face, and promised, "I'll throw you a proper wedding party, Y/n. The biggest party you've ever seen."

Y/n smiled softly, her eyes shining with love. "I don't need anything else but you, Lewis," she said with a calm certainty.

Lewis kissed her, feeling that everything he ever wanted was there, in her arms. But before he could do more, Y/n looked at him with a mischievous smile and commented: "So, Ferrari next year, huh, handsome?"

Lewis laughed, his eyes full of affection. And together, they walked to the car, ready for the next stage of their journey, knowing that any future, no matter how uncertain, would be perfect because they would face it together.

[cyberseong]

extra credit.

pairing: yunho x f!reader

genre: smut/pwp, professor!yunho, non idol au

warnings/topics: not proofread, there’s quite a bit if plot before it gets to the actual smut, dom!yunho, sub!reader, blowjob, facefucking, unprotected sex, yunho’s a bit mean in the beginning, use of pet names (sweetheart, princess)

word count: 1.6k

a/n: i haven’t posted on here in months, but i wrote this so i could at least get something out. i might be able to post more regularly soon, but anyway, enjoy! notes/reblogs are appreciated!

it’s nearing the end of april— which only meant that the long, excruciating exam season was upon you, just like it was for every other student enrolled in college.

you’ve been studying your ass off, but the amount of assignment and project deadlines that were creeping up on you made all your effort look meaningless. with more near-failing grades than you’d like to have, you decided on requesting grade improvement opportunities from the professors of these classes.

the first two gave you extra credit assignments with no hassle— something you could do quickly for a decent grade boost, as not even the professors wanted to be stuck grading them as a side quest during a month where they were already overwhelmed with important papers to grade.

you made it to the room which held your third and last professor that you’d bother for the day— professor jeong. he taught business ethics; it should’ve been an easy passing grade, but professor jeong was someone who wanted to make his class a living hell for his students, simply because he had the time and was getting paid to do so. he made it a mission to give out intricate and detailed assignments, even selecting a 20-page paper as your semester final.

he definitely wasn’t going to be lenient when it came to extra credit assignments either.

taking in a deep breath, you knocked on his office door, waiting to hear his exasperated “come in” before opening the door and sliding into the room.

he looked incredibly tired, more so than usual; stacks of students’ finals were sprawled out on his desk. surely he’s regretting his petty decision of giving such a hard assignment right about now. regardless, his frustration only made him more attractive than he already was normally; you’d be lucky if you could make it out of his office alive with the way his intense gaze made you so uncomfortably hot.

“good afternoon professor jeong… i wanted to ask if any extra credit assignments were availab–”

“no. if you really wanted a passing grade this semester, y/n, you would’ve made that project that was turned in a few days ago look a little less rushed and pathetic than it was.” yunho spoke with a flat tone, only looking away from his computer once to give you a strong, disappointed look as he finished his critique.

“well– yes, that is true, i’m truly sorry about that professor… i’ve been so swamped with studying and going to class and working that i didn’t have much time for the assignment… even a small extra credit assignment would do, or even an extension on the original–”

“was i not clear enough the first time? even on the first day of my class, i made it very clear to everyone that half-assed work would not be tolerated nor forgiven. i will not be giving you an extra credit opportunity, y/n.”

the way he spoke down to you so sternly alone was enough to make you quiver; the man was the living and breathing embodiment of sex appeal itself; you had to be extra careful in not letting your mind drift off even while having such a serious conversation with him.

you were almost certain he had seen the way you looked at him. the tone in which he reprimanded might as well have caused you to come undone right there in the middle of his office. most of the people who took his class only registered for it because of how hot he was compared to the other old and worn out professors that taught classes for your major. so, could you really be faulted for following in everyone else’s footsteps?

“are you sure there’s nothing i could do to bring my grade up? i really need to pass my classes this semester, i’ll do anything, please,” you felt so pathetic begging him for a chance at the possibility of a grade improvement, but it was better than retaking his entire class again after the summer.

yunho sighed before taking his reading glasses off of his face, finally removing his attention from his screen in order to analyze the situation at hand. the underlying suggestive intent of your words caused him to cock an eyebrow; he takes in your position over his desk, the way your slightly leaning into it and the way your cleavage is on full display in front of his face at the moment told him all he needed to know about your request.

a small grin crept onto his face as he reconsidered his previous firm rejection to your request. there’s no harm in a little fun, and he’d be a fool to reject an advance from such an alluring student of his, right?

“anything… is that so…” yunho teases, getting up from his chair and walking around his desk, towering over you as he now stood in front of you. “if you really wanted some extra credit, i could use a nice stress reliever right now… siting and grading 20-page essays for hours without break has made my body so tense…” he mockingly whined, rubbing a hand over his stiffened neck to verify his words.

you looked up at him with doe eyes, practically waiting for whatever his next command would be. you were surprised at how easy it was for him to fall for your act– not that you were complaining about his fast submission. you were lucky to even hold his attention for this long, let alone have the honor of relieving his stress in exchange for a better grade in his class.

“get on your knees, sweetheart,” yunho paused, unbuckling his belt and unzipping the fly of his slacks. “you’ve done so much talking and pleading, why don’t you show me what else this pretty mouth of yours is capable of?”

a blush crept over your cheekbones as you obeyed him, pulling his hard length out of the confinement of his boxers and stroking it slowly with your soft, manicured hand. as you spread the precum down his cock to reduce the friction, yunho groans at the sudden feeling pulsing through his body.

you took most of his cock into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as your tongue swirled around his tip. you eventually fit his entire length into your mouth, deepthroating it as your head bobbed back and forth with ease. you moaned around it, sending vibrations throughout yunho’s core– this elicited a long, drawn out groan from him, followed by a string of curses as his hands find their way to your hair. he maintains a stern grip on your luscious strands as he takes control of your head, thrusting into your face to chase his high that was approaching.

“f-fuck, princess, your mouth feels so good around me– so fucked out all because of my cock, hm? you take it so well y/n,” he teased before giving your throat one final thrust before spilling his seed into your mouth, moaning as you stroke his length once more, overstimulating him in the comedown of his climax. “get up off the floor and bend over the desk, sweetheart.”

almost as if your body was moving on autopilot, you immediately follow his command. before you could even lay upon the desk, yunho’s large hands are halting your movements to quickly undo the buttons of your blouse, causing the garment to be thrown somewhere on the floor of his office. he undoes the hooks of your bra before discarding of that as well. he gently but hurriedly pushes you forward onto the polished wood, trailing a hand down your spine in admiration of your soft, glowing skin that covered your body. the action sent shivers throughout your body, the ghostlike touch of his fingertips now haunting your lower back. his other hand traveled to your skirt, lifting it up to reveal a red lace undergarment that just barely covered what it was meant to.

“looks like you planned for this, unless you just normally go around with such an inviting surprise hidden under your clothes. i’d be disappointed to hear that anyone else is getting this view, sweetheart.” he spoke with a half-sincere tone as he moved the lace to the side, the tip of his length now teasing your wet entrance. he only slid in deeper as you began to respond.

“ah, you’re the only- fuck, only one professor jeong, only ever- fuck! wear it on days i have your class,” your vocal moans sound through the room as his thrusts became deep and fast, his cock hitting all the right places to make you a wrecked, hysterical mess.

“i’m- mmh, so close professor, fuck, ‘s so big, i can’t,” you ranted. he gave one last long thrust before you reached your high, coming undone on his length. he sped up his last few thrusts, causing you to see stars as you were already getting overstimulated from the overwhelming orgasm he just gave you.

yunho soon pulled out, cleaning the both of you up a little before he pulled your skirt back down and freshened up himself. he handed you the clothing that was previously discarded to the floor before he adjusted his tie and sat back down in his office chair.

“you can consider your grade in my class to be fixed, y/n,” yunho said with a bit more life in his words than he did when you first came into his office. he fixed his hair and put his reading glasses back on his face, his fingers soon clacking on his keys again. “and feel free to visit my office again any time; i’ll be here to help.” a slight chuckle left his lips as he made the double meaning of his words apparent.

“thank you– and you'll see me again very soon, professor jeong.”

[saywhat-politics]

BOGOTA, Colombia (AP) — U.S. President Donald Trump said Sunday that he was ordering tariffs, visa restrictions and other retaliatory measures to be taken against Colombia after its government rejected two flights carrying migrants.

Trump said the measures were necessary, because the decision of Colombian President Gustavo Petro “jeopardized” national security in the U.S.

BREAKING: Trump has just announced a 25% tariff (will increase to 50% next week) on all goods imported from Colombia in response to the Colombian government's refusal to accept two flights of deported immigrants.

This move is expected to lead to price hikes for American consumers on everyday essentials and commodities, including gasoline, coffee, flowers, precious stones and metals, trees, fruits, nuts, and crude petroleum. The economic impact of these tariffs could ripple through multiple industries, driving up costs for households across the country.

[carnalcrows]

FREAKY ON CAMERA - MYUNG-GI

pairing: myunggi x top male reader

synopsis: Your batchmate looks familiar. Almost too familiar for your own good

content warnings: 18+, college!AU, bottom myunggi, camboy myunggi, full nelson, breeding, creampie, drunk sex, dubcon recording.

word count: 1.9k

A/N: req, but i changed it around a little 😭😭

giggle333 is live.

You sat up straighter, quickly plugging in your headphones as the stream loaded. And there he was—shirtless, his toned chest on full display, that familiar birthmark just above his heart making your stomach flip. His voice, low and teasing, filled your ears.

The party wasn’t for another hour, and you were sprawled out on your bed, phone in hand, scrolling through notifications. The dull hum of your roommates chatting in the kitchen barely registered as you opened the app—your favorite app, the one you never mentioned to anyone. 

 “Missed me, didn’t you?” he said with a smirk, leaning closer to the camera. His hands trailed down his torso, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip. This guy was intoxicating, an enigma who never showed his face but somehow had you—and thousands of others—completely hooked.

The comments flooded in:

@User89: God, I’d sell my soul for a glimpse of your face. @Horny4Giggle Take it off already! @Me: We definitely missed you. Don't tease us too much.

You chuckled at your own boldness, even though you knew he’d never see it among the sea of messages. Still, the way he leaned back with a wicked grin, in a way that carefully covered his eyes–his identity, somehow made you feel like he was looking right at you.

“Patience,” he purred, his fingers grazing his jaw. “Good things come to those who wait.

His hand slowly trails all the way down his torso, inching towards the hem of his trackpants, slowly sliding them off to reveal his hardened length, glossy at the tip with pre-cum. It stood proudly, with a prominent vein travelling from the base to the head.

He wraps his fingers around the base, slowly bringing them up to meet the head, before sliding them back down. As he jerked off, his other hand held a blunt– lazily moving it from finger to finger as the mild smoke filled the room, occasionally taking a puff.

God– he was really fucking hot.

You’d completely lost track of time when your roommate banged on your door.

“Hey! Are you coming or what? Party’s starting!”

You yanked out your headphones, your heart racing from a mix of guilt and excitement. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming!” you shouted back, quickly closing the app.

The party was already in full swing by the time you arrived, a cacophony of laughter, bad karaoke, and the faint, questionable smell of spilled beer wafting through the air. It was one of those nights where everyone seemed to forget they had papers due, part-time jobs to show up for, or any semblance of self-respect. Naturally, you let yourself get swept up in the chaos because who were you to argue with free booze and bad decisions?

You’d come with a group of friends, but somewhere between your second and third shot, they’d vanished into the throng of students. Which left you to your own devices. Not a great idea, if you were being honest.

“I’m gonna live forever!” one of your batchmates shouted, launching themselves into an ill-advised beer pong dive that sent cups flying. You cringed and grabbed another drink to distract yourself.

It was then that your eyes landed on Myung-gi. He was leaning casually against the counter, nursing a drink and looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. Myung-gi had that mysterious, brooding vibe that seemed to get everyone’s attention, including yours. The guy rarely spoke to anyone unless he had to, and even then, it was usually in short, clipped sentences that somehow made him even more intriguing.

You, however, were a little too drunk to care about the “don’t bother me” energy he radiated. “Hey, Myung-gi!” you called out, sidling up to him.

He raised an eyebrow, barely looking at you. “What?”

“Why’re you standing here like someone forced you to attend your own funeral? This is supposed to be fun.”

“This is fun,” he deadpanned, taking a slow sip from his cup.

“Wow,” you said, mock-impressed. “You’re like a walking carnival.”

He gave you a flat look, but the corner of his mouth twitched, and you counted that as a win.

Hours later, the party showed no signs of slowing down, but you and Myung-gi somehow ended up stumbling into an empty bedroom together. You weren’t even sure how it happened—one moment, you were arguing over the merits of pineapple on pizza (he was staunchly against it), and the next, you were closing the door behind you to block out the noise.

“This room is so damn hot,” Myung-gi muttered, tugging at the collar of his shirt.

“You’re just drunk,” you replied, slumping onto the bed.

Ignoring you, he pulled his shirt off and tossed it onto the chair. That’s when you saw it—the birthmark. A distinct shape, just above his heart. The same birthmark you’d seen countless times before on your favorite camboy’s chest.

You froze, your alcohol-addled brain struggling to process the revelation. Myung-gi, your quiet, brooding classmate, couldn’t possibly be him. Could he?

“Uh…” you said, sitting up straight. “Nice birthmark.”

He frowned, looking down at himself. “What about it?”

You stared at him, your heart pounding. “It’s, uh, familiar. Very familiar.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” he asked, crossing his arms.

“Are you…” You paused, trying to find the right words. “Are you giggle333?”

Myung-gi’s entire body stiffened. “What?” His voice was sharp, defensive.

“Don’t play dumb with me!” you blurted, pointing at his chest. “That birthmark—it’s exactly like the one he has. You can’t tell me that’s a coincidence!”

“Shut up,” he hissed, glancing toward the door like someone might overhear. “You’re drunk.”

“I was drunk,” you shot back. “Not anymore. Not after this.”

He groaned, running a hand through his hair. “You’re insane.”

“Am I, though? Because this feels pretty damning.”

For a moment, he just glared at you, his jaw clenched. Then, with a defeated sigh, he muttered, “Fine. Yes. It’s me. Happy now?”

You blinked, the confirmation sending a thrill down your spine. “Oh my god.”

“Don’t make it a big deal,” he snapped. “I only do it for the money. College isn’t cheap, you know.”

You couldn’t help but grin. “I knew it. I knew it! You’re—”

“Shut up,” he interrupted, stepping closer. “You’re not telling anyone about this. Got it?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Or what?”

Before you could say another word, his lips were on yours, silencing you in the most effective way possible. The kiss was rough, desperate, and completely unexpected. For a moment, you froze, but then you found yourself kissing him back, your hands tangling in his hair as the tension between you snapped like a rubber band.

The two of you tumbled onto the bed, the world outside forgotten. His hands were everywhere—gripping your waist, trailing up your sides, pulling you closer as though he couldn’t get enough. Your heart raced, every touch sending sparks through your body.

“You’re insufferable,” he muttered against your lips, his voice low and heated.

“And yet, here we are,” you shot back breathlessly, a teasing grin on your face.

You pulled him closer to you, if that was even possible, before latching your lips onto his once more.

As the two of you tumbled around in bed, you managed to get both your pants and boxers off, leaving your lower halves naked to the cool night air.

Myung-gi shuddered as you yanked at his shoulders pulling him onto your lap. You searched through the back pockets of your discarded khakis to find a small packet of lube.

“Did you come prepared for this?” Myung-gi questioned, to which you simply smirked before ripping the packet with your teeth and pouring its contents straight onto your erection.

He simply watched as the clear liquid slowly slid down your cock, making it glisten in the moonlight invading the room.

Wordlessly, you picked him up from the bed and turned him around, making his face smush against the plush pillows. Before he could utter a word of protest, you slid your lubed cock into his hole.

A wanton moan left his mouth, the pain of being stretched combining with the pleasure of being so, so full.

You slid all the way in, feeling the way your cock stretched out his tight hole. As you bottomed out, you steadied him, resting your hands at his waist.

“Gonna move now baby–” you uttered before pulling out to the tip and then slamming back in with full force.

You swear he almost squealed.

You had been going at it for almost an hour, when an idea popped in your head. Myung-gi’s phone was lying somewhere on the bed, so you fetched it and told him to unlock it. He did what you said, feeling too cockdrunk to think about what you were going to do with his phone.

Scrolling through his apps, you finally found the one he used for streaming.

giggle333 is live

You then placed the phone at the foot of the bed and waited for the magic to happen, as you positioned yourself and the other man in such a way that he was sitting in your lap and both of you were facing the camera, the angle hiding both of your faces to maintain privacy.

As you expected, comments started to flood in, ranging from shock, confusion, and obvious horniness.

@User89: Oppa is online– wait, is that another guy with him?? @Horny4Giggle Man– now I’m hard @User230: Never knew giggle was a fag lolololol

You merely smirked at the comments before holding Myung-gi’s thighs all the way to his shoulders, putting him in a reverse mating press of sorts.

Once again, you resumed your thrusts, making your length hit his prostate every single time. He simply blabbered this and that, his hands mediating between flailing and holding up his thighs for balance.

“Fuck–please I can’t!” he squealed, to which you simply sped up your thrusts, making his head fall back against your chest.

Your thrusts slowly began to stutter, and without warning, you released into his hole, painting his insides pearly white.

Myung-gi came soon after with a drawn out moan, staining his torso with his release. You let him lay there for a while before gently pushing him off and reaching for his phone. The viewer count had almost reached a million, while the comments made you chuckle.

@PussyEater: God I could watch this all day @User12294732: Unfollowing now– didn’t expect gay bullshit @Horny4Giggle : I just came I think

You turned off the live and fell back onto the bed, exhaustion coursing through your veins.

Later, as you both lay sprawled on the bed, catching your breath, you couldn’t help but reach for your phone. A little secret insurance, you told yourself, snapping a quick photo of his flushed, disheveled form before he could protest.

“Seriously?” he groaned, throwing an arm over his face. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Hey,” you said, grinning mischievously. “A little souvenir never hurt anyone.”

He glared at you, but there was no real anger in his eyes. Just a hint of amusement and maybe even admiration. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Maybe,” you replied, leaning in for another kiss. “But at least you’ll enjoy it.”

As you both lay there, basking in the afterglow of sex, the bedroom door opened, and standing at it was none other than your roommate– Thanos.

“You two seem to be enjoying yourselves,” he smirks, “care for another round?”

© carnalcrows on tumblr. Please do not steal my works as I spend time and I take genuine effort to do them.

[jo-speaks]

rprt au idea: the moment he realized he fell for you was during a ride. where you fell asleep on his shoulder. *kisses forehead*

FINALLY FALLING

✶ right place, right time masterlist ✶

overview: an early morning car ride lets quinn hughes realize exactly what he's feeling.

warnings: none!

wc: 819

note: earlier than i said, but i got too excited!! also, thank you so much for 500 followers! i appreciate every single one of you and im happy you guys enjoy my works :)

It was early, about five in the morning. Quinn had asked you to coffee the night before, wanting to see you before his morning skate. You had obviously agreed, wanting to spend as much time with him knowing he’d be travelling away from Vancouver in the coming weeks.

It had only been two months, but he knew you were unlike any of the other girls he had talked to in the past. He put his car into park, rounding around it to open the door for you as he saw you and Chilli coming down the stairs of your apartment complex. He could see your smile even in the distance, and he felt butterflies in his stomach. His eyes trailed over your body, grinning at your oversized sweatpants and Canucks hoodie he had given you, claiming you’d, “need it when you come to a game.”

It wasn’t long before you and Chilli were in front of him, the golden retriever jumping up lightly, paws on his thighs. “Morning, Q.” 

Quinn smiled, keeping his eyes on you as he met Chilli halfway to pet her, “Good morning. You guys ready for coffee?”

He opened the backseat door, letting Chilli hop in and get settled. You laughed at how quickly she sniffed his seat and laid down, finding a new self-proclaimed home in his car.

You looked at him, “Holy, she really likes you. It takes me ages to get her in the car whenever we go out.”

This got a small laugh out of Quinn, his eyes glancing at the dog, then back at you, “Can you blame her? I’m great.”

“Do cocky and great mean the same thing?” You snorted, nudging his shoulder as he chuckled, rolling his eyes playfully.

Quinn backed up, opening the passenger door for you, “Whatever, get in.”

You patted his arm with a smile, stepping into the vehicle. He walked back to his side, settling into the driver’s seat before taking off. Once out on the road, there was a comfortable silence for a few seconds, both of you enjoying each other’s presence.

You let out a yawn, leaning further back into your seat as you struggled to keep your eyes open. Quinn chuckled, taking a glance at you before focusing on the road ahead of him. “Tired?”

Nodding, you stretched your legs out in front of you, your legs shaking slightly as your muscles relaxed. “M’not normally up this early.”

The sun normally rose at seven, so the Vancouver skies weren’t completely dark, but it was still grey and foggy. It was calm, but the gloominess of it all made the desire to be in bed all the more great.

“You can take a nap if you want,” He said softly, reaching his arm to turn on your seat warmer, “The coffee shop is about twenty more minutes from here. I’ll wake you up when we get there.”

You smiled at his tone and volume, the softness of the whole situation causing your face to warm up. “Are you sure? I don’t want to bore you.”

Quinn scoffed, “Bore me by sleeping? Y/N, trust me, just being with you is enough for me. Besides, I’d rather you have energy when we’re actually in there.”

His words had an interesting feeling bubbling in your stomach. Most guys would be trying to talk your ear off in an attempt to keep you up or would’ve called you boring and suggested dropping you back off and trying again some other day. But Quinn… was different. He made sure you were comfortable and reassured you of your decision. Sure, maybe it was the bare minimum. But that didn’t change the fact that you were struggling to fight off a smile when he grabbed his phone and threw on some soft music.

“Thanks, Quinn.” You mumbled. Something about your exhaustion had you forgetting that you two were only friends, the thought not crossing your mind as you sat up a bit, scooting over in your seat and leaning your head on Quinn’s arm. You looped your hand around his arm, getting cozy in the small space.

You were already drifting off into sleep, so you couldn’t see the way his eyes widened and face flushed, muscles tensing before relaxing under the warmth of your hold. He stopped slowly at a red light, making sure the car didn’t jolt back. His eyes trailed down to your sleeping figure, your eyes shut as your soft snores echoed throughout the car. 

He smiled and looked back to check on Chilli, who was splayed across his back seats, her own breaths matching yours. 

Quinn knew exactly what he was feeling now.

Seeing you around his arm and your dog feeling so comfortable with him, in his space, left no question for what that fuzzy feeling that flowed through his body was. It was undeniable.

Quinn Hughes had a crush on you.

[weantuniverse]

From the uncyclopedia-- Biggus Dickus: Early life

Born into a middle-class family in Italy, the young Dickus soon made himself stand-proud from his fellows with his good looks and proud, tall bearing. In his youth, he took the curious fashion decision to shave all the hair on his head off every morning and the "gleaming, shiny head" of Biggus Dickus became a sensation in the streets of the city.

He soon insinuated himself with friends of the Emperor Augustus and there were rumours in Roman society that some of Augustus's freedmen had made Biggus their catamite. Indeed, one such man Sextus Maximus had been heard to say that he craved Biggus Dickus. Augustus himself is said to have been not so keen on the young man and, indeed, there were rumours shortly after the Emperor's death that the old man had, in fact, been murdered and that Biggus had been actively involved. His father denied this, however, saying that it was unthinkable that the emperor would have been run-through by a Dickus.

Augustus' wife the empress Livia became especially fond of Dickus. Famously, when Livia was in one of her "moods" whilst holidaying in the south of Gaul and refused even the emperor himself to enter her tent, Dickus made his way to the empress' encampment through a fierce rainstorm carrying grapes and some of her favourite wine. The guards stopped him at the entrance to the empress' tent and made Dickus stand there in the rain, stating that the empress was "unwell" and would not accept visitors. But, on hearing the voice of her favourite courtier, Livia uttered the immortal words. "Come, guards, do not delay the boy, he is getting wet. Part my sodden silky flaps and let Biggus Dickus enter my warm interior so that the fabulous juice he bears might pour forth --TO read more https://en.uncyclopedia.co/wiki/Biggus_Dickus

(via Facebook)

[thisisntmyrightera]

Our Glory - Jeon Jae Joon x Fem Reader

Plot: Jae Joon leave South Korea to avoid being part of a violence scandal and arrives in America to start his life again, finding the love of his life who makes him feel human for the first time. Despite the distance, no matter how much he avoids his reality, the ghost of his past will reach him wherever he is endangering everything he has achieved.

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Violence, Angst, Drama Warning: Themes of school violence, abuse of power, minors being harassed, harsh language.

A/N: The story is inspired by The Glory, however, some time periods have changed as well as situations where the protagonist will be part of changing some original scenes.

I appreciate you reading and being part of this new story, as always I hope to please your readers' hearts.

I'll be back soon.

No one would dare to approach the daughter of the most sought-after heir in all New york, in fact no one would even think of marrying a girl as independent and grown up as you.

Your single status was a myth in the chats of the women of your class, how could such a pretty girl, with so much class, be single, hadn't she found someone at her level? Dozens of boys had asked you out because their parents had forced them to do it, that was what the line was, an heir with an heiress, right? But you decided to shoo each one of them away like flies on fresh flowers, too spoiled, arrogant, lazy, they weren't your type.

That night, the night of the charity gala where all the millionaires seemed to attend only to boast about how much their company had given to charitable causes seemed like just another boring night, with nothing to do but stand next to your parents smiling holding a glass of the most expensive (and disgusting) wine that you barely sipped.

Sir, nice to meet you again - a man with a foreign accent and Asian features approached and shook your father's hand before bowing slightly to your mother and you.

The pleasure is mine Mr. Jeon, It would be nice to meet at the club for breakfast one day. How long will you be in town this time? - your father smiled kindly. Despite his status and large bank account, you could tell and presume that he was a generous man with a good heart, and it always made you feel good to hear that you were just like him.

Fortunately this time we will stay a little longer, we are planning to live in America, I have some business in mind and I have started to build a club in this part of the country, you know, bring a little bit of Korea to America so they can get to know a little bit about us - both men continued chatting, laughing perhaps pretending that one was interested in the other's talk

You just sighed and looked around, your high heels were starting to hurt in your heels, your hand was perhaps already numb from holding the same glass all night

Jae Joon how nice that you came - Mr. Jeon smiled patting his son's back making a gesture of displeasure when he noticed the aroma of cigarettes on his clothes - I want you to meet Mr. Y / L/N he is a great friend and excellent partner in bussiness

A pleasure sir - the man offered his hand shaking it firmly with a smile that made his cheeks become plump giving a tender touch to his face

Jae Joon I have heard a lot about you, it is a pleasure to finally meet you -Your father smiled looking at your mother and then lightly took your arm making you turn your face in a surprised way looking forward- this is Y/N my daughter

Nice to meet you miss - Jae Joon smiled at you slightly tilting his head making you respond with just a shy smile

''Another prospect for the inheritance again'' you thought feeling annoyed and bored of the same dynamic every time your father met the son of a bussines partner

It wasn't very difficult to think about it, you could take care of the business, for some reason you had finished college at the best school in Europe, you had experience and many times you were able to support your father in difficult decisions, what was the problem after all, you didn't need a man to be successful.

When you finally got out of the crowd and the air hit your face you breathed a sigh of relief, it didn't matter that it was cold outside, it was almost the end of November but it was still better than being suffocated between expensive perfumes and the aroma of hundreds of exotic dishes that you hated.

You found the first stone bench on the balcony decorated with plants to sit and rest, the pain in your ankles was a burning sensation that you felt constantly but you were forced to endure to look "elegant"

Are you bored too? - a deep and velvety voice made you come out of your trance while you slowly massaged your ankle

Excuse me? - you looked at him confused

People here are boring just talking about money and business - he sighed bringing a cigarette to her mouth lighting it quickly - you don't mind me smoking, right?

No, I was leaving anyway - you smiled at him kindly standing up to enter the large hall again

You know - his voice made you turn around looking at him not at all curious, just not seeming rude and leaving him talking to himself - I don't know many people around here, I'm new in town and it would be nice, I don't know, to go out someday to get to know each other, after all I'll be around here for a long time

I don't usually work as a tour guide Mr. Jeon, excuse me - you smiled ironically turning around annoyed at getting the same thing again every time someone met you, a boring date proposal

Your answer had frozen him in place, he had never gotten a rejection from any girl, in fact the women in his country fought to get even a little attention from him, this caused him a feeling of rejection that he had never felt, in fact, in these cases his anger would have shot up breaking a couple of plants and damaging the property but as much as he tried to get upset he couldn't find where he had kept that feeling, he simply felt alone and rejected.

With the days you became more and more convinced that you would probably never find an honest man, in your class they didn't exist, they only looked for contacts and last names, it was clear that was why most of them looked for you and to be honest it wasn't something you were looking for, you enjoyed your single life, going out with your friends and doing everything as you wanted without giving explanations to anyone, although sometimes, you couldn't help but feel jealous and lonely seeing how most of them had someone to share with.

Nobody is at your level or maybe you just aren't lucky enough? - Ashley laughed, drinking from her glass with her left hand, showing off her (third) engagement ring

I can have any man I want, but that doesn't mean I'll go to bed with everyone, it's not my style - you smiled at her, drinking, making your other friends laugh

Oh yeah? And who have you wanted? Because we've never met anyone, right? - she smiled mockingly, making your friends erase their smiles, settling down a bit

Danielle was a little smarter, she changed the topic of the conversation to avoid awkwardness among the group, but in your head you couldn't stop thinking about your parents' words.

''I'm getting old, I'd like to see you have a happy life like mine, I'd like to have grandchildren, that's all''

''SaeHyeon has talked to me a lot about his son, he told me that he asked you out and you didn't accept, he seems very interested in you, why don't you give him a chance?''

Maybe… after all, they were right.

So, a couple of weeks later you decided to change your lifestyle and go for what everyone said was "wonderful." Your father was surprised to see you ready in your sportswear to accompany him to the Jeon golf course. He knew you perfectly so he didn't mention anything and just gave you a slight smile so as not to make you uncomfortable with your decision where you clearly weren't interested in talking about business.

The trip was short and when you arrived you were surprised by the architecture so elegant and different from that of your country, very minimalist and clean, the rooms were large, with furniture that combined perfectly and large windows, you could hear your father talking to a partner in the distance but your attention was totally given to the beauty of the place.

After a while and after having breakfast in the large room full of tables and delicious food you were able to go out to see the gardens, the golf carts passed by and every step you took showed you natural places where people showed their skills on the game.

Y/N?…what a surprise to see you here - Jae Joon smiled approaching while a couple of men watched him walk away with worried faces - go do your jobs, I'll see you later - he looked at them pushing them away with his hand making both of them leave almost running - I didn't know you were a member of the club

I'm not, my father came to talk to some members and I decided to accompany him - you smiled a little holding your sports bag with both hands

Don't worry, you can come here whenever you want, I'll tell them to let you in without bothering you with memberships or that paperwork - his smile didn't fade making you find him cute - would you like to come see the place with me?

Sure - you smiled at him again walking beside him with slow steps looking around as he talked about how many golf gardens they had, how many tennis courts and other boring ''rich'' people sports

What do you think? - His gaze was curious, as if looking for proof of you in the newly opened place

It's very nice, I've never seen anything so elegant and beautiful - you smiled looking at the small flower garden that adorned one side of an artificial lake

Do you like flowers? - he ask you curious

Yes, they're pretty, gardenias are my favorites - you looked at him nodding, returning your gaze to the lake where some people were practicing with their canoes

I'll ask them to plant gardenias all around the lake, how about a couple of benches too, so whenever you want to come and smell them you can sit comfortably on them - he smile moving his hands in front of both like designing the new additions to the place

What?…no it's not necessary…

Of course it is, if you're going to come here, I want you to feel at home - his face was so kind and warm that it made you feel a kind of butterflies and weirdness inside you

It wasn't possible that in just a couple of minutes you felt something for someone that you barely knew their name, it wasn't normal for you.

Sir, excuse the interruption, we need your help - a man dressed in a suit with a nervous face looked at him while rubbing his hands nervously on his pants

It seemed that the interruption had made Jae Joon change his face and personality in just a second, his jaw tensed and he rolled his eyes looking at him annoyed

I told you that I hate being interrupted, do I have to solve everything myself? - her hands clenched tightly causing the man to look down in fear

It's okay, you can go don't worry - you smiled at him feeling anxious from the tension of the moment adjusting your sports backpack on your shoulder

I'm sorry I have to go, some people are too stupid to do their own work - the veins in his eyes turned red as if the fury couldn't be contained within his body, he didn't even give you time to respond when both men quickened their pace towards a destination unknown to you.

After all you were relieved, the encounter ended before it became awkward, but you couldn't help but notice that his personality changed with the rest of the people.

That night while you were drying your hair your phone rang on your vanity full of perfumes, your biggest obsession.

''I'm sorry about this morning, would you like to go to dinner? JJ''

His simple message made you smile making you feel strange, did you have feelings for Jae Joon? The best thing would be to answer him, or maybe not? If you did it quickly he would realize that you were very interested, but if you waited a little he would feel that you were not interested at all.

''Of course xx''

The first date was exciting for both of you, you talked for hours about your lives and what you would like for the future, you could feel as if your destiny was destined, fortunately neither of you touched on business topics, it was the first time you went out with a man who didn't brag about how hard his father had worked for him just to spend the money and that made you feel comfortable.

Jae Joon couldn't believe how comfortable he felt with you and how much he enjoyed sharing time by your side, in fact he felt like another person when you were near him, his outbursts of anger and that anger that he always felt inside of him didn't exist, you were the calm that he needed to be happy despite sometimes remembering why he came to America and it made him feel afraid.

Within a few weeks they had already lost count of how many times they had gone out, in fact they never counted the times they saw each other because despite his work he always found a moment to visit you or you took advantage of your free afternoons to go to the club and eat with him even if it was only a couple of hours that they could be together.

It was around April when both of them attended the art gallery of Sara, Jae Joon's friend who thanks to a charitable cause was able to exhibit in America.

You walked around the place taking his arm while you contemplated the colors and shapes of the paintings, they were so different from what you were used to seeing, sometimes, reacting excitedly by the combinations you saw.

Isn't it pretty? I had never imagined seeing flowers colored like that - you smiled excitedly while your arms surrounded his

Yes… it's pretty - Jae Joon sighed looking away

It would look good in a living room with a carpet of that color, maybe combined with several colors, I don't know… what do you think? - you smiled again looking at him only getting him to nod uncomfortably taking the phone from his pocket

Honey give me a minute, it's something urgent - he looked at you embarrassed leaving quickly while leaving you standing in the middle of the exhibition

This time it was you who sighed, maybe you were going a little fast and you made him uncomfortable, maybe he wasn't looking for anything formal and your comments were going too far

Your boyfriend left you alone? - Sara laughed sarcastically approaching

He.. he's not my boyfriend - you smiled shyly taking your bag with both hands nervously

I know, don't worry, it's not your fault or did you make him uncomfortable princess, Jae Joon is colorblind he doesn't distinguish colors - she smiled mockingly leaning on a table while drinking from her glass - didn't he tell you?

He.. he's colorblind? - your heart felt like it had been squeezed and even though you had never done it with the intention of making him uncomfortable, you couldn't help but remember all the times you had mentioned something about colors - I didn't… I didn't know, sorry

I know, he never mentions it, it makes him feel stupid - she sighed playing with her empty glass - when we were in high school, the boys used to make fun of his condition, the poor guy only defended himself when he beat them in the face

I… god I feel so bad.. I… I'm going to see him - you looked at her shyly, fixing your hair nervously

Go honey, rescue your prince charming… or something like that - she laughed drinking the few drops left in the glass, while you hurried your step leaving feeling the fresh air hit your face

A couple of minutes walking through the parking lot was enough when you could find him standing next to a small planter, his head pointing to the sky while he placed drops of a small flower in his eyes boat, the sound of your heels on the pavement made him turn quickly wiping the liquid that ran down his cheeks, possibly what he had placed as lubricant.

Doll I'm sorry… give me a moment - he cleared his throat turning his back to you embarrassed

Jae Joon.. it's okay - you shyly took his arm delicately making him look at you embarrassed - Sara… she already told me… I'm sorry for not paying attention

Sara… - he sighed rolling his eyes tensing his jaw again - that damn…

You don't have to be upset, it's nothing to be ashamed of - you smiled at him adjusting the lock of his hair that the breeze had disarranged covering one of his eyes - your condition doesn't bother me if that's the reason you hadn't told me yet..

His eyes looked at you quickly, his heart skipped a beat feeling something different inside him again.

Jae Joon was the man of your dreams, he was tender and attentive to excess, he remembered every single thing about you as if he had a notebook especially for you in his head, he remembered important dates even the ones you sometimes forgot

During April with the excuse of seeing the city from the top of the Empire State he took you to the top to see the sunset, in reality, he only had eyes for you completely ignoring the sunset and the buildings that adorned the landscape.

Do you know what we came for? - he smiled at you while hugging you from behind resting his chin on your shoulder

We didn't go to see the city right? - you smiled at him, suspecting his intentions

No, I want the whole city to know from here that my girlfriend is the smartest and most beautiful woman on the planet and she's only for me - his face was hidden between the strands of your hair that he was obsessed with the aroma

I'm not your girlfriend Jae Joon… - you laughed trying to look at him making him laugh

Then I'll ask you here so everyone knows you're mine - he laughed kissing your cheek - do you want to be my girlfriend?

Mm.. I should think about it, what do you offer me Mr. Jeon? - you laughed turning a little until you could hug his neck with your arms making him laugh again surrounding your waist

I promise that from today you will live the glory every day we spend together, I can even swear that you are the future Mrs. Jeon and nobody can change that

Then let's live the glory Mr. Jeon..

Part 2