#anyways that is all thank u xoxo

[inhidingxoxo3637]

"name me one female driver/rider who's not in a B series1!1!1" no now name me one female driver/rider who's been able to train to the same level as top MotoGP riders or Formula 1 drivers

[cata-strophes]

trying to get out of art block by doodling some dumb stuff

[esmes]

look at me baby, dead in my eyes it's the end of our holiday, but it isn't goodbye carry me with you all of the time eat of me baby, skin to the bone body on body, until I'm all gone but I'm with you, inside

🎥 @theriddletrades

[slytherinslut0]

since i have a lot of new followers from outside the fandom and this continues to be a constant topic of conversation i’d just like to remind everyone that im not writing about underage 16 year olds im writing about fully grown adult men who, in an alternate timeline (omg!), are college students.

(lorenzo zurzolo, benjamin wadsworth, christian coulson [who was literally 23 in COS might i add], louis partridge etc etc etc are all grown ass adults irl. that is how i see&write them.)

[spxnglr]

Lmao it's not that serious my dude.

[jwowwsboobs]

Gimme Yer Love, Angel in the Night

The thing about LA is, it's fucking weird. I mean, Los Angeles, city of angels, full of people lookin' to rip you off, rob you dead, take yer boots. And the sun is always fuckin' shining. It never fucking rains. It's like heaven for people with big dreams, but they all come and die. It's the home of the rich, the famous, the megastars. And there are broke people, homeless people, hookers and their pimps, winos and wash-outs fuckin' everywhere.

And me. I guess I'm broke people. I work at a shit job, washing plates, trying not to fuck up my hands or hair, so when I get off, I can kick out the jams in half empty clubs with guys I don't really like or party with people I know well enough to know they don't lace their shit, and then come back home, chick or two on my arm, crash on the couch and get woken up by my roommate, Tripp, AKA the nicest guy on earth, so I get to work on time. Rinse and repeat.

I was headed to the club that night, paycheck in cash in my pocket and brand new leather pants on my ass. Maybe to meet a chick. More likely to have a few and pick one up. I shoved my way through the crowd of people to a guy I knew on door duty, who let me in for free, much to the annoyance of the lame-ass and his girlfriend I'd cut in-front of. Sucks to suck! The club was dark, the air was thick and hot with smoke, sweat, spilled beer, shrieking guitars and thudding drums and bass. The stage was like a setting sun, people crowded around it, almost blocking out the band. You could still see them, but barely. I shoved my way to the bar, squeezing in next to two beautiful blondes, perfect butts, tall as trees, hair as big as the sun, two feet from the smokers corner and the bathroom doors. They side eyed me and rolled their twelve pounds of eyelashes and eyeliner at each other, pouting their big red lips and twirling their hair around their perfectly manicured fingers. Tough crowd, but I always like a challenge. I flagged down the bartender, asked for a beer. As the bartender went to grab a glass and fill it up, I turned to the girls.

"Y'all want anything?" I shouted at them.

The one next to me looked at me like I was a new species of sidewalk slime that she'd just found on the bottom of her brand fuckin' new 500 dollar heels, but her friend smiled and pointed at their glasses.

"Refill for these ladies," I gestured to the girls, and the bartender took their glasses away to make whatever overpriced, fruity shit they'd been drinking. I turned to the stage, drank my beer, waited for the right moment to grease them up. Turns out they had me beat.

When their drinks came, they split before I could say "You're welcome."

Tough break.

I knocked the rest of the beer back, and was about to flag for a refill, when I felt cold breath on my neck.

"Some people have no fuckin' manners, huh, sunshine?"

I looked over my shoulder into cold, dark eyes peering over mirrored sunglasses, almost covered by shaggy black hair. He slipped into the open space next to me. Stage lights dimmed.

"Uh-"

He held up his hand, sliver and black rings sparkling in the club's flashing lights. "Another beer?"

"Shit, sure man," I said, digging in my pockets for some cash. He snorted.

"On me."

"Hey, thanks man! I'm Lani."

"Ryan." We shook hands, his hands like ice against my sweaty and damp palm.

"You new to town?" I asked, as we waited.

"Hardly." He blew his bangs out of his face. "Are you?"

"Not really. Been here a coupla months. Where are ya from?"

"Far away. Why'd you come here, farm boy?"

I blinked. "How'dja know I grew up on a farm?"

Ryan glanced up and down at me. "You've still got a farmers tan. And you just told me."

I rubbed my bare shoulders, suddenly cold in my cut off. "I coulda gotten that here, man, that doesn't mean anything!"

Ryan laughed at me. I couldn't tell if it was a mean laugh or not. It sounded mean. But it really didn't matter. He was hot. I could take a little denigration from a guy like that. "But you didn't."

I huffed. "Yeah alright, whatever, man. At least I look like I've seen the sun. Haven't you seen any movies recently, man? Pasty is out, tanned is in. Gotta look like yer livin'!"

He rolled his eyes. "So you wanna be a movie star."

"Hardly." I shrugged. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I wouldn't mind! Can't act for shit though. I'm gonna be a rockstar. Bigger than Morrison and twice as hot."

Ryan looked intrigued. "Morrison, huh?"

"Fuck yeah man, great fuckin' poet, rock STAR to a T, heartthrob...all that shit."

His eyes flicked up and down my outfit. "Where's the concho belt?"

I laughed. "I don't needa be carbon copy, that'd be boring and lame as fuck. Anyway, what are you here for?"

He shrugged, playing with his rings. "Just lookin' to have a good time for the rest of time. Figured what better place than LA."

I grinned and slapped him on the back. "Hell yeah man! Party never fuckin' stops here, it's like heaven."

Ryan half smiled and raised his glass. I hadn't noticed the beers had come. "Cheers."

We clinked glasses, and I drank.

I woke up with a roaring, pounding headache and a mouth drier than a 40-something in a loveless marriage looking at her fat, ugly husband. Which wasn't that weird, until I realized I was in my bed, and it was late afternoon, almost evening. I fumbled around, looking for some shades, trying to block out the too-bright sunlight, and fell out of my bed onto a pile of clothes and shoes. I groaned, and Tripp's footsteps came down the hallway and into my room.

"Jesus, dude, are you okay?"

I tried to say something that would have been, "Yeah man, I'm cool! Just need sunglasses and an Advil and possibly the greasiest cheeseburger known to man," but what came out sounded more like "Urugggggghhhhurnr."

"Man, you look like friggin' hell, lemme call yer boss 'n' tell him yer sicker than a dog and would probably die if you went in." He started out of the room.

"Sunglasses." I finally managed to croak out.

He didn't hear me. I groaned, and crawled back into my bed, pulling the blanket over my head and sending me into mostly darkness. It musta been a hell of a night, since I could barely fuckin' remember it. Except for that guy. Long, dark, messy hair. Dark eyes, perfect lips set in a slight sneer. Tarnished silver rings and piles of necklaces. White open button shirt and black jeans. Black and blue cowboy boots. Heaven's fallen angel, all in black. Ryan. I hadn't gotten his FUCKING number. I buried my face in my pillow. Maybe I'd smother to death and never have to worry about not ever seeing the world's hottest guy ever again.

"Good news man!" Tripp said loudly, walking back into my room. "Yer boss says you don't gotta go in t'day!"

I groaned.

"Bad news is, he says ya can't go in ever again."

Figures.

"It's all cool though man! I can get'cha another job, don't even worry about it. I'm goin' to work 'n' then to Michelle's birthday party. Left some money on the counter if you wanna order yerself something hot like pizza or Chinese food. Noodles are probably yer best bet. I'll be back like, tomorrow morning. Feel better man!"

Tripp left, and I stayed wrapped up in my blanket. Ryan's dark eyes swum in my head. His mean little laugh. I wanted to know that guy. Needed to love him. I was already in love, and it'd only been like 12ish hours.

I dragged myself out of bed as the sun finally sank behind the buildings, the streetlights and corner stores' neon lights flickering on. I shuffled into the bathroom, no shirt, still wearing my pants from the night before. I stared into the mirror. My hair was matted and tangled from the teasing and hairspray and sleeping in it. My skin looked much paler than the day before, but I didn't think much of it, cuz of how fucking SHITTY I felt. Hickies covered my neck, but there were none on my chest. Which struck me as weird, cuz usually when I'm with someone who's gonna give me hickies, they give 'em all over. Not stingy with the lovin'. I turned to look at my back. Covered in scratches.

"Guess we had fuckin' fun." I said to myself.

I shoved my hands into my pockets, pulling out all my money from yesterday (All of it? Hadn't I spent some of it?) and a crumpled up piece of paper. My hands shook as I unfolded it.

268-7886‬. R ☆

Of course he'd have fancy handwriting, perfectly formed cursive letters. I carefully folded it back up and stuck it back in my pocket, along with my cash, and stripped to shower.

The whole time, Ryan's face floated infront of me, his laugh echoing through my head.

I dried my hair, and wrapped the towel around my waist. I didn't feel hungover, but I felt this deep, gnawing hunger itching at my insides. Like when you've had sex for the first time and you want it again. I snatched my pants off the ground and went back to my room, pulling on clean (probably) boxers and grabbing the phone number. I took a beer from the fridge and sat on the couch in the living room, staring down the phone. I cracked it, chugged it, and before I could psych myself out of it, I picked up the phone and dialed.

It rang twice before he picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hey Ryan, it's Lani, you gave me this number yesterday night."

"Oh yeah," Ryan laughed breathily into the phone. "You wanna meet tonight?"

"Sure, where? The club?"

"No." Ryan paused. "Evergreen."

"Evergreen? The cemetery?"

"Mhm. Listen, ah...Lani. I've got to go. I'll see you there tonight. Midnight?"

"I-"

He hung up. I groaned, bashing the receiver into my damp hair.

"FUUUUUCK." I dropped the receiver back on the hook and buried my head in my hands. I had no choice.

It was eleven by the time I finally got the balls to get dressed and go out. I'd left my hair to air dry. Well, mostly air-dry. I blow-dried and hairsprayed my roots for a little of whatever the girls called volume when they did my hair. Found a loose, colorful button up that I half buttoned and didn't tuck in, tight jeans, cowboy boots. Smudged eyeliner that a girl had left behind in the bathroom across my lower lash line. And drank.

The taxi driver dropped me off half a block from the cemetery, like I asked him to. He watched me in the rearview, clearly trying to figure out why I wanted to go to a fuckin' cemetery this time of night, dressed like that. I tipped him extra for keeping his mouth shut. He took off, fast.

I waited til the street was empty and jumped the fence. And prayed it wouldn't take too long to find him.

As heaven would have it, it didn't.

Ryan sat on the steps of the mausoleum overlooking the chapel, wrapped in a tiger-striped fur jacket, cigarette hanging from his long, ringed fingers. He watched me approach like a hunting dog watching a bird. I could have sworn his eyes were yellow.

"Hey," I called.

"Hi." He dragged on his cigarette. "Thought you wouldn't show."

I shrugged and sat next to him. "If I didn't, what would you have done?"

Ryan shrugged and put the cigarette out on the sole of his star-covered platform boots. I studied the stars, red and sliver on black leather. "Dunno. Wanna go in?"

"What, in the mausoleum?"

He smiled at me, teeth glittering like stars in the dark. "Why not? The dead are good at keeping secrets, sunshine."

He stood up and slipped in. I looked up at the starless, black sky, and followed him. It was dark, and the side walls were lined by barred doors, leading to crypts. He turned around, fast, and pushed me up against the marble wall, breath cold against my neck.

"You want this?"

"Yeah."

Ryan licked my neck, and I winced from the pressure on the still sore hickies. His fingers slipped up my half-buttoned shirt, hand pressing against my rapidly beating heart.

"Feel good?"

"Mmhm." I moaned as he kissed my neck, gently, softly. I reached to grab his hip, to pull him closer. He grabbed my wrist and pinned it against the wall above my head. I squirmed a little, not liking the gap he kept between him and me, the cold air on my slightly exposed chest.

"Don't like that, huh?" He teased, tightening his grip on my wrist. His other hand slipped down my shirt, pressing against my hip.

"Man," I whined. "C'mon-"

"Shhh." Ryan pressed his hand against my mouth, muffling my whines. I squirmed, wanting him up against me. He laughed, pulling his hand from my mouth, but letting his index and middle fingers brush against my lower lip. "Suck."

I tentatively licked the tips of his fingers. His teeth and eyes glittered in the dark and I felt my dick twitch. I grabbed his hand, and pushed his fingers into my mouth, licking, sucking, moaning, working them the way I would have worked his dick, lost in it.

With a pop, he pulled his hand out of my mouth, and grabbed my face, smearing my spit all over my cheek.

"You like that, huh? Little slut."

I groaned, and he laughed softly, and kissed up my neck to my mouth. He was barely touching me, and I felt like I was burning up. I could barely think. He kissed me, working his tongue into my mouth, dropping my wrist to grab my hips, pushing me against the wall, and him against me. I moaned into it, twisting one hand into his hair, one around his shoulder, pulling him closer. He pulled away, and I gasped as the cold mausoleum air hit my face and my chest. He watched me breathe heavily. I knew my face was flushed, but I couldn't tell if his was.

"Ditch the shirt."

I licked my lips, wanting to push his buttons. "If you want it gone so bad, you take it off."

"Yeah?" He said softly, with a hint of amusement.

"Yeah."

He moved close to me, hands barely brushing against me, unbuttoning the shirt. "Gonna regret that, sunshine."

"Make me."

He laughed softly, sliding the shirt off my shoulders. I pulled it off the rest of the way and he trailed his fingers down my chest. I breathed heavily.

"Take off my belt."

I knelt on the floor, fumbling with the cold metal and leather of his belt. I found the end of the tongue as his hand tangled in my hair. I looked up at him. His face was obscured by his dark hair and shadows. I pulled it out of his belt loops and felt the buckle open and smiled. He traced circles in my hair. I pulled his belt off, laying it on the ground.

"Keep going," he said.

I undid the top button, trying to keep my touch light. His grip on my hair tightened. I looked up at him.

"Keep going?"

He sucked his breath in quickly. "Yes."

I slowly unzipped his jeans, and he huffed impatiently. I grinned in the dark.

"Don't like that, huh?"

Ryan pulled his hands out of my hair roughly and pulled his dick out of his boxers. I could barely make out the shape in the dark.

"Open." He said, grabbing my hair again.

I did, wrapping one hand over his as he pushed into my mouth. He sighed, tangled his hand deeper in my hair, moaning, pulling on it with every movement. I moved up and down slowly, and he pushed his hips forward into my mouth. My dick twitched in my jeans, but I couldn't think about anything but him.

He groaned, gripping my hair tighter, sliding in and out of my mouth. I moaned as he hit the back of my throat and his hips bucked.

"Oh god. Do that again," He said, breathless.

I moaned again as he hit the back of my throat. He groaned, pounding into my mouth harder and faster.

The tightness in my jeans, him fucking my face, his heavy breathing, the random pretty little moans, was driving me crazy. I gripped his thighs and looked up at him. His hair, shaggy and long, mostly covered his face.

I couldn't think. I closed my eyes again, relaxing my throat as he fucked me. My throat. Whatever. I felt my spit dripping down my chin, falling on my bare chest. He pulled on my hair. I felt him tensing up.

"Lani," He moaned breathlessly. "Lani, I'm close."

I groaned, my dick uncomfortably hard.

"Lani," he whined. "Oh god, Lani, I-"

He moaned, and his dick twitched as he came. I swallowed, and pulled away, wiping my mouth. My knees hurt. He panted above me, one hand on his dick and the other on my chin.

"You looks so good like that," he said. "C'mere."

I stood up slowly, knees hurting, and he pushed against me. He bit my bottom lip, slid his hand up my ribs, resting on my heart.

I moaned as he situated his thigh between my legs, rubbing it against my crotch. I pulled on the front of his jacket, wanting him closer. He smiled against my mouth, rocking his hips against me, and I closed my eyes, moaning into his mouth. I pulled on his hair, wrapped my arm around his neck, grabbed his bare hip.

He pulled away just before I came, and I whined in frustration.

"Shhh, baby," he whispered in my ear, fumbling with my jeans button and zipper. "I'm not gonna let you go that easy."

I panted, squirming as he trailed his fingers over my stomach. "Ryan, please, I need, I-,"

"What'dya need, sunshine?"

I moaned and he scoffed.

"C'mon, use yr words."

"Fuck me," I whined. "Fuck me!"

He kissed me. "Anything you want."

I squirmed as he pulled my jeans and boxers down, the cold air hitting my aching dick.

"Turn around, grab those bars right there and relax."

I did as told, breathing slowly and deeply. He rubbed some lube onto my ass and started to prep me. I moaned as he worked his finger in and out and in and out, adding another, stretching me out. He rubbed my back, telling me how good I was doing, how well I was taking it, how good it was gonna feel. I closed my eyes, letting him, his smell, his voice, his touch, wash over me. I was in heaven in that dark cemetery, about to get fucked by an angel of the night.

I heard a condom wrapper crinkle.  

"I'm gonna take it slow, baby." He kissed my neck as he pushed in slowly.

I moaned.

He grabbed my hip with one hand and jacked me off with the other. While fucking me slowly. I couldn't think, much less comprehend exactly how good his touch felt. The minutes became one continuous moment, nothing existing except for him. His voice. His hips against my ass. His mouth on my neck. His hands on me. Him. Heaven-sent.

He kissed my neck, licked it, moaned into it. His thrusts got more and more rough and uneven, his moans increasing in frequency against my neck. I whined, feeling my orgasm close in on me, unable to keep my eyes open. He bit me as I came, and I screamed. He let go of my dick to grab my throat, keeping me from squirming, my cum warm on his hand, still pounding into my ass as he sucked blood from my neck. And darkness ate away at my vision.

I woke up to a cop shining his flashlight in my eye and a dog's head on my chest. A brindle pitbull. Like home. It was still dark out as the cop roughly escorted me out of the cemetery, grumbling something about the city's "fuckin' bum problem." The dog followed. I flagged a cab, half to prove that I was not a "fuckin' bum" despite missing my shirt, shoes, and my pants being half unbuttoned and half to get home fast. Ryan had disappeared completely, and I felt like hell. Worse than yesterday. Everything about me fuckin' hurt. The dog clambered in the taxi with me, and the cabby didn't bother trying to kick either of us out.

It took forever, but the dog and I got home before Tripp. The dog almost didn't follow me in, but I shoo'ed it inside. No need to get my fuckin' neighbors pissed, they already hated me and Tripp. I didn't bother turning any lights on. The clock said 2:39, and I abandoned my pants on my bedroom floor, practically clawing them off my legs, and curled up on my bed, sweating and shaking. I felt sicker than I ever had and the pain was nearly unbearable.

The dog sat in my doorway, watching me.

"What'chu lookin' at," I groaned. An intense wave of nausea hit me, and I gagged. I stumbled to the bathroom, nearly tripping on the dog's tail on my way, and threw up in the toilet. Lucky shot. Sort of. It was all over my chest too. I groaned and gently banged my head against the wall.

I waited a couple of minutes to make sure nothing more was gonna make a cameo on the bathroom floor, and stripped to shower and rinse my mouth out in one shot. And maybe hurt less.

When I got out, my neck hurt real bad. I touched it. My hand came away red-ish. What the fuck? I patted it with my towel, and the towel came away red too. I stared at it, not comprehending what this meant. Somewhere in the apartment, someone was playing my guitar. I reached to the mirror, to wipe the condensation off, and the realization hit me.

I was home alone and someone was playing my guitar. Incredibly well, but someone was playing it.

I hastily wrapped my towel around my waist and found Ryan, sitting on my bed, playing guitar.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

Ryan did not look up, continuing to play. "I came home with you, stupid."

"No you didn't," I said. "You ditched me in the cemetery. I woke up with this dog on my chest 'n' it followed me home. You just showed up. Stupid."

"Where's the dog then?"

That was a good question. I stuck my head out of my room and looked around. Tripp's door was locked like it always was, the bathroom was empty, the living room-slash-dining room-slash-kitchen was empty. No dog.

"I don't know." I said, head pounding. "I just wanna go to bed. I feel sick."

Ryan stopped playing and looked at me, raising his eyebrows. "Wonder why."

"What?"

"Nothin'," Ryan rolled his perfect eyes and went back to playing. "Put clothes on 'n' c'mere."

"Weirdo." I grumbled, grabbing a pair of boxers and a shirt from my dresser. "Barely fuckin' know you, 'n' you come into my house, play my fuckin' guitar-"

"You came to my house first, sunshine."

"What? When?" I said, dropping my towel and pulling my boxers on and the shirt over my head.

He rolled his eyes. I stood there, headache beating my brains, trying to piece it all together. Black clothes. Irresistible charm. Midnight. Cemetery. Dog that was there and then gone. Biting my neck.

"Vampires aren't real?" The room was swaying.

Ryan laughed at me. "You sound sure."

I groaned, crawling into my bed and curling up. The world was spinning. Everything hurt, my head most of all.

"It should be really kicking in right now, the venom." Ryan said, playing the most beautiful, melancholic, entrancing melody I'd ever heard. "Your body's trying to reject it, which is why everything hurts so bad right now. Eventually you'll die, probably within the next 4 hours. At around, I dunno, hour 5 of the venom being in your system, you become paralyzed. But you're still awake. You get to feel everything. Your lungs slowly stop working, your blood slowly stop moving, your heart slowly stop beating. It's incredible honestly. Very fascinating to watch."

"Make it stop," I groaned.

"Turn you into a vampire? I don't think so. I'd rather watch you die." He started playing a new song.

"Please, Ryan. Please."

Ryan sighed. "Why should I?"

"I love you," I groaned. "I barely know you but I love you. You're gonna be alone forever. Don't you want someone by your side?"

"You'll stop loving me."

"I won't." I said, struggling to pull myself up so I could sit against the wall. "I never stop loving someone. I love forever. I'll never leave you."

Ryan looked at me in the eye. For the first time, I could see the depth of the darkness in his dark brown eyes.

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not." I said. "Let me love you. Give me a chance."

He put the guitar down and crawled next to me.

"Why?"

I turned my head to look at him. It hurt. "I think you're holy."

"No you don't."

"I do. I see heaven in you. I feel it in you. You're an angel."

Ryan didn't say anything.

"Ryan. Please. Let me love you. Don't be afraid."

"I'm not angel."

"You are to me."

"That would change."

I closed my eyes. It was getting harder and harder to breathe. "No. It won't."

I heard him sign pointedly. "Wouldn't you rather go to heaven?"

"Heaven doesn't mean anything to me if you're not there."

He inhaled sharply.

"You don't know what you're saying."

I took a deep breath and opened my eyes. "Ryan, look at me."

He wouldn't meet my eyes.

"Please, look at me." I was desperate, about to cry. "Please, Ryan. Look at me."

He wouldn't.

Hot tears fell onto my shirt. "Ryan, please. I love you."

It hung in the air like a suicide.

"Stop crying." He finally whispered, wiping my tears away. I closed my eyes and leaned against him. Melting into him. Trying to relax.

"Lani, look at me."

I opened my eyes. Everything was blurry. I felt him press something warm and wet against my lips.

"Drink," he said. And I did.

And heaven could never compare.

[clumsyclifford]

what's... 18 29 93 & 70 on your wrapped?

meghna i would be SOOO happy to answer this for you. i will also be giving you my favorite lyric from each song because that's fun and it's my blog

18. Vienna by Ben Platt good god this song makes me so crazy okay my favorite line. impossible question but i guess maybe "take the phone off the hook and disappear for awhile/it's alright, you can afford to lose a day or two" especially because i was listening to this song a shit ton during camp when i legit felt like i could not take a day to myself and then i got The Plague and was forced to take time off and everyone was like seeeeeeeeee bella everything is still fine and. it felt appropriate

29. You Don't Go To Parties by 5SOS mmm favorite line is the whole second verse. "lost my limit 'cause i'm dumb and i'm passionate/took my foot up off the brake, it's not an accident" the imagery there also i love songs where they just call themselves dumb. i am ALSO dumb and passionate kings !!! me too!!!!!

93. Face Towards The Sun by The Maine 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 everything 🥺 is exactly 🥺 as it 🥺 should be 🥺

70. Dirty, Pretty, Beautiful by The Maine my favorite lyric is the fuckin distortion on that guitar

send me a number 1-101 and i’ll give you the corresponding song on my wrapped and my favorite lyric!

[girlinfect]

i´m back

[worthyheir]

“  i don’t like the way they look at you. perhaps i’ll cut their eyes out.  ” / @lvscinvs sent a MEME

There is a duty to make peace with Dorne. They are not at war, but it is the only one of the Kingdoms their ancestors had failed to conquer, and keeping them in the fold, at least peacefully, was necessary. No one wanted war (well, the King did not war, but he was not sure if his Hand agreed) with Dorne. Agreeing to this meeting, this celebration - his daughter betrothed to one of the Prince of Dorne's sons - was a necessary evil, even though it seemed as though the Martells still harbored ill feelings towards the Targaryens.

A fair feeling, in Jacaerys' mind, though he was not going to voice that aloud.

There was a thought, the Prince of Dorne had had, to betroth his sister to the King, widowed and of a mind to not re-marry. He had heirs enough, two sons and a daughter, and this would have to be enough of a conciliation for them. Jace stood to the side of the celebrations, the dancers enthusiastic and the drinks flowing, Aemond next to him , annoyed about something. The words that slip through his uncle's lips are a surprised. Perhaps the Prince and his sister were looking to him some way, hoping to change his mind by bringing her here, but he had no desire to remarry.

Jace rolled his eyes at the words, shaking his head. "Skoros ñuhoso issi pōnta jurnegēre rȳ nyke pār?" ('What way are they looking at me, then?') He asks, keeping his voice low, looking over at his companion. There were several reasons for his opposition to wed again, despite the councils continued assurance that he ought to. He was not his grandsire, ready to continue to sire heirs on a wife who might not be willing, or like his mother, in love with someone who he was able to marry. No, it was far more complicated than that for him.

"Kostilus ȳdra daor spill ānogar unless actually provoked. Ziry would sagon qopsa naejot explain bona īlon're rȳ vīlībāzma kesrio syt se dārilaros iksis trying naejot shove zȳhon mandia ezīmagon ñuha bed." ('Please don't spill blood unless actually provoked. It would be difficult to explain that we're at war because the Prince is trying to shove his sister into my bed.') Not exactly, more like his court. "Lo īlen seeking iā companion naejot bāne ñuha bed bona nyke gōntan daor already emagon, nyke would emagon taken mēre hen aōha political epagon, lo ao recall lī." ('If I was seeking a companion to warm my bed that I did not already have, I would have taken one of your political suggestions, if you recall those.') One of whom, he was fairly certain, was the Princess giving him eyes. He was not a fan of any of this - setting his children up for political alliance was just an unfortunate part of being King, but he did not have to enjoy it, or enjoy his own council continuing to set him forward towards a new bride. "Sīr konīr iksis daor jorrāelagon naejot unektogon mirre laesi, iā nektogon hen mirre fingers, iā whatever else ao might sagon otāpagon." ('So there is no need to cut out any eyes, or cut off any fingers, or whatever else you might be thinking.'). He chuckles under his breath. "You sound jealous." He adds, taking a drink from his goblet of wine, raising his eyebrows. "Konīr iksis daor drīve naejot sagon." ('There is no reason to be'.)

[inhidingxoxo3637]

Girl you are gradually becoming my favorite account for Motorcycle racing so I need to vent a little here.

So I watch Moto3 more now because friends say it’s the most entertaining category, plus lots of Turkish people can be passionate on Instagram talking about Oncu, so Imma like “ok what’s with him then”. There I discovered Dani Holgado. He’s fast and he looks like a model and all that stuff so I did my research, only to discover the boy just turned 18 this year, quite smol and everyone seems to love hugging him so I was like “Awwww” 🥹. Then I come to invest his Instagram and girl, what’s up with him and his sister???? Like I love my lil bro to pieces but I will rather die than giving him that much affection, now I can’t stop thinking about that, helppp 😭

Let's all pay our respects to anon who has just discovered Holgado's sister o7

[atrwriting]

future problems — coriolanus snow x fem!wife!reader

hi everyone :) jumping on the bandwagon

this man is so fine i couldn’t help myself. i hope everyone had an amazing holiday if they celebrate — i celebrate christmas, so here is my almost 10k word christmas gift to all of you xoxo love u all v much thank you for reading !!

as always, warnings: corio-lame-o is a fucking warning holy fuck, smuuuuut, arranged marriage (i think this counts?), coriolanus is a distrustful evil fuck (but he’s super hot), fem!reader, reader is married to this dickhead (i say as if i wouldn’t want to be lmao), angst, sexism and misogyny is def in here, p in v penetration, m receiving oral, choking, dom!corio, asshole!corio, sub!reader, subspace kinda

informal warnings: bro what the fuck was i on this is literally 10.2k words and i refuse to edit because im super lazy anyway we die like men you've been warned

anyways… here is future problems:

he never wanted to get married.

he saw it as a potential problem, one that would most definitely lead to loose ends — and he hated loose ends.

despised them.

however, his innate need to maintain an image was far more important to him. he weighed the costs and benefits in his head like an algorithm — check, check, check. coriolanus’ mind left no stone unturned, especially when future problems were to be squashed before they could ever be wiped from memory. in the end… he decided he would marry.

and it would be you.

he never allowed himself to be naive — so he would never allow himself to marry someone he already loved. lucy gray? a child’s want for something they can’t have, and something they wouldn’t realize until later that it was a walking regret. no — he could never marry someone that would harm him. absolutely not. out of the question. therefore, it had to be you.

it had to be you because what harm would you cause him? you were shy, quiet, of satisfactory social standing, and uncontroversial. everything a patriarch of the snow family would want. deserved. be entitled to.

he needed someone that wouldn’t be a problem — a loose end in the future. he had conquered so much — he refused to let anything else, especially as irrelevant as a significant other, stand in his way.

however… it did not aid him in his stone-cold lack of a love affair conquest that you were absolutely breathtaking.

at first, it was just an ego boost. he simply couldn’t stop his thoughts from voicing, of course she’s perfect. the snow legacy can only have perfect.

but then… oh, then…

then he saw your smile.

oh, your smile.

your fucking smile.

the first time he caught himself enjoying it — he scolded himself. he refused to see you for a week. a punishment of sorts. more so for him than for you. after, he refused to let his eyes wander on the pretty features of your face for him to witness a reaction to something someone had said or done. he didn’t want to be reminded of what it was like to experience joy or peace because someone else was experiencing it — that was what almost costed him everything he had built.

no one would ever tear that down. not again, not ever.

no one.

when the day of your marriage came, it was business as usual. he refused to meet eye contact, and did not partake in more conversations with you than he had to. he could tell you felt uncomfortable — but he forced himself not to care. he drove it down, down, down like a miner drilling for more coal — hoping, one day, it would be worth it.

and it was… until he was sick.

it was a minor ailment — nothing major, but he was on bedrest for about a week or two. he had employed enough adequate members to his staff to feel that things would at least be taken care of until then. he also found comfort in the fact that two weeks was not long enough for something irreversible to occur. if a problem had taken placed, he would be able to rectify it once he was well and able and… set aside the responsible party.

however, he did not expect one problem.

and that would be you.

he knew you were asking to see him. he knew, he knew, he knew, but he refused to let you in. you were not disrespectful — you had only asked once a day, which happened to be every day in the afternoon. he had picked you specifically because you were too quiet to be annoying. however, his own perfect, pristine, and proper plan had stabbed him in the back. he had never considered that the perfect, pristine, and proper wife would be this dutiful to him, checking in once a day on his condition and to speak with him. despite his illness, he laughed at himself — leave it to him to not expect the expected: the hand-selected dutiful wife would, in fact, be dutiful.

he had to put an end to it. he couldn’t keep saying no for another week. how was he expected to get better if you kept bothering him?

so he let you in. this once. just this once. he reasoned that if he let you in this once, you would be less persistent. just this once — and another problem would cease to plague his mind.

just this once, he chanted in his head. just this once.

he sat up straighter, and attempted to shape his hair so it wasn’t terribly unkept. he reasoned that if you saw him appearing to be healthy, you wouldn’t feel the need to come back. he thought —

but he couldn’t finish the thought.

because you walked in.

smelling like fucking lilacs.

lilacs, of all things. lilacs! not roses, not anything else — lilacs. he did not hate lilacs, but he despised the actual flower. only beautiful for so long before it died and the stench was intolerable. an inconvenience. a nuisance. a guaranteed future problem.

however, when you gifted him with a small smile — you realized why small shows of beauty were so valuable in this world. no one else saw your smile — except for those closest to you. people he hand selected to be around you to prevent future problems. he realized then — he had more control and ownership over your smile than either of you thought.

he was so stunned by your smile he didn’t even notice the tray of tea and cakes in your hand. you took a few steps towards him and he shifted in place.

“i brought your favorites,” you spoke softly. “i know you should rest — i just wanted to ask if there was anything i could do to make your recovery easier.”

“no, thank you,” he replied, voice raspy. “i should be well in a few days.”

you nodded and offered an uneasy smile. his eyes flickered over to how once you had set down the tray on his beside, you slowly wiped the palm of your hands down the front of your dress. your eyes were cast absentmindedly in front of you, on the wall — and he could tell something was plaguing your thoughts.

he then also realized there was a book on the tray, much to his dismay.

“someone had mentioned that this was your favorite author. this was published a few days ago,” you began. “i understand that you have been experiencing headaches, and may find it difficult to read… so i wanted to offer to read aloud for you, in case you found these walls dull.”

you smiled — it was an attempt at a joke. he smiled back, but only to be polite. “today i find myself wanting to sleep. i appreciate your offer.”

you smoothed your hands over your dress once more before nodding and forcing a smile. “i’ll leave you to it, then.”

you did not bid him farewell — and he found himself wondering if he was annoyed or grateful. you simply exited the room, and let the door shut softly behind you.

he scrunched his eyes at the door, swallowing hard.

however, he didn’t understand why.

he had wanted this. the perfect wife — knowing when to take a hint and frankly, fuck off. you had done that, perfectly well — so why was he pissed?

he then found himself glaring angrily at his favorite tea cakes. the swap of sugar for honey, another one of his favorites. his favorite author, a book he was excited to read when he was better. he knew that you hadn’t asked about him — he employed people with the requirement to let him know when you were asking questions. he knew your every outward thought and concern, and sometimes even the ones that weren’t shared aloud because they were so evident on your face.

and then he realized: you noticed things like he noticed things.

however, he knew why he went out of his way to notice things, but why did you?

his jaw clenched as he glared angrily at the wall in front of him. he picked up a tea cake and chewed it aggressively, swallowing it half-intact. he coughed at the barely there food, anger rising further to his flushed cheeks.

he needed to understand how, and he most certainly needed to understand why.

he never went out of his way to get to know you, because he thought he already did. he thought he had you boiled down to one thing, and one thing only: passive. incapable of proving to be any sort of roadblock that was capable of getting in his way. now that he knew you shared something with him, what else was shared? was there something he had to look out for? was there something he missed? was he wrong about you?!

he had to know. he had to.

to do that… he called you back that evening. it was two hours before midnight, and he knew you were awake. despite having separate chambers, he knew your daily schedule. you would be reading at this moment, and he would ask you to read for him.

as if on cue, he heard a soft rapping on the wood of the door. he beckoned you in, and you entered the room. you were clad in a night dress with a matching robe over it, all pink silk. this time, he returned your smile.

"i apologize for the late hour," he spoke. "i hope you had not retired for the night."

you shook your head, your tendrils of perfect hair shaking slightly. "i was reading. i am glad you sent for me — can i get you anything?"

"i was hoping the offer to read for me was still on the table," he rasped. "i find myself unable to sleep."

you blinked once, staring at him. in an instant, a small smile was threatening to overtake your face into a large one. you cast your eyes down to a blushing manner, but his eyes narrowed slightly on your face. what would you get out of reading for him? what we he not seeing? what did he miss?

"of course," you responded. "i have not had a chance to read anything by this author. i am glad i have the chance now."

why. why. why.

he did not show his discontent. he simply rested back against the pillows as you reached for the book on his bedside table. you sat down on a chair on his side, and you crossed your legs. he eyed the small portion of the exposed, soft skin of your legs and wondered if your new ploy would be to try and seduce him. however, you quickly covered your skin with the extra material over your robe and placed the book in your lap. once opened, you read for him.

he was not listening to what you were saying, but he was listening to how you said it. the tone, the enunciation, the pauses, and the speed. he wanted to find some clue as to why you had made it a point to be at his beck and call, and he wanted to see how long the act would last until it dropped.

the act would drop. it always did.

the hour would approach midnight before he found that he could not discern anything from how you were reading aloud. his plan did not yield the results intended, as you had not broken from fulfilling his task for two hours. two hours. you had not stopped out of boredom or exhaustion, nor to talk to him. you were poised, soft, and he hated to admit it... but sweet. he found your voice sweet, and he hated it.

and he fucking hated himself for it.

he needed this to end so he could plan further. out of necessity, he yawned. if you were to apt at picking up clues, then hopefully you would believe that he was finally tired. you had succeeded in his given task, and you were free to go.

but you had kept reading for him.

he grew angry.

when you had paused to breathe, he spoke up. "I think i am able to sleep now. thank you, sweetheart, for indulging me."

your eyeline raised with your eyebrows, almost out of surprise. you either were not expecting him to ask you to stop, or you did not want to stop. he wondered which, and if that would answer his ultimate question.

"my apologies, i should've inquired sooner," you replied. "he is a very talented writer... i found myself enjoying his perspective."

you grabbed a piece or scrap paper from his bedside table, and tucked it in between the pages where you left off.

"most people would fold the corner," he remarked, eyes drifting closed — a show.

you smiled. "i didn't want to ruin the integrity of your book. goodnight, coriolanus."

she left with another smile — and all he was left with was confusion, and rage.

the next morning, he found himself wanting to call you back in for a further rouse interview. he would have if he had a plan in place.

that was the second thing about you that annoyed him: you annoyed him to the point where he wanted to act without a plan in place. a loss of control —which he was highly against.

that would have to be righted immediately.

he spent the morning reading the pages that you had already read to brief himself as if he was listening last night. he reasoned with himself that the best course of action would be to ask you to read to him again to see if you had grown comfortable enough to let a few of your true colors slip.

they always slip.

the sudden task that was presented to him gave him a new bout of energy that he needed to inch closer to recovery. it gave him the push he needed to be closer to walking out of this room and continue to run panem, and he was lost grateful to you for giving it to him — almost. at the moment, you were a problem — and that needed to be corrected. immediately.

he found comfort in control, so he was very content with routines. he had grown accustomed to bracing himself for your check-in in the afternoon. however, it did not come until the approaching hours of the evening had almost descended upon the capitol. he waited, and waited, and waited — so long that he considered asking you to come for himself. the hour would approach dinnertime when you had finally asked about his well-being, and he sent for you.

how dare you ask so late in the day, as if you didn't care? he allowed you access to his life that he had denied you for so long, and you return his kindness with carelessness? this would not do. this most certainly would not do.

you had knocked on his door, and he had to stop himself from sounding to eager. he permitted you entry, and you entered with the same soft smile.

"good evening," you greeted.

"hello," he replied, voice still raspy from his sickness.

"I wanted to ask if you need anything," you announced.

he offered a small smile. "i enjoyed our time last night. perhaps you would read for me, again?"

your eyes fell to the floor in a blush. "of course. I was hoping to read more of the book eventually. i found it intriguing."

you sat down in the chair and pulled the book in your lap. as you were opening it, he spoke, "i thought when you had not checked-in in the early afternoon you found the book dull — afraid i would ask for you to read it for me again."

you shook your head as you smiled. "i like his writing very much — i was concerned as to whether i had prevented you from sleeping the night prior, and didn't want to disturb you further."

he swallowed. "why would you have disturbed me?"

your eyes glanced upwards from the pages to rest on his face. coriolanus stared back as slight concern washed over your features, making your lips part and your eyes widen. your tongue darted out from between your lips, and smoothed over the skin of your bottom lip. you responded, "before you fell ill, we hadn't spent much time together and i understand that is because of your position — but, to be frank, i wanted to respect your space.”

your answer perplexed coriolanus. he wanted to find out what type of person you were — and your answers were not yielding the expected results. there was no obvious form of manipulation in your words, which then worried him. were you smarter than he believed you to be? were you as cunning as him? more so?

so he went with what was natural: manipulation.

“i apologize my station has not granted us the freedom to get to know each other further,” he replied, holding your gaze. “it is a regret of mine.”

you smiled in an affirmative manner, like you didn’t believe him but accepted his answer anyway. this expression arose the same feelings he now detested your presence for: he acted without calculating his actions and the outcome they would produce.

“what troubles you?” he asked.

your lips parted and slightly quivered. you were not expecting him to ask.

“i-i was worried that i may not… please you,” you admitted. “that… you may regret our union.”

“you have been a kind and dutiful wife,” coriolanus spoke, eyes holding yours. “there is no regret.”

there was that affirmative smile again. he found himself hating it — wishing it would be replaced by the warm, soft one.

“i guess i was hoping that, when i was married, the marriage would be more than… a union.”

your candor shocked coriolanus. he would never have expected you to say something… so out of turn.

“please, forgive me,” you spoke, slightly laughing and waving your hand in the air. “the hour is almost late and i was hoping to read more. do you still wish me to?”

“please,” he answered and nodded.

you gave him a quick, thankful smile, and began reading.

this would be the second night coriolanus had not listened to a word you had said.

he had gotten his answer, and it was possibly as bad as the one he was actually afraid for.

you were good. pure, innocent, and your outlook on the world untainted. you were not striving to find a loose screw and let the empire fall. you wanted… to support the man who built and kept the empire together. it was worse than anything he could’ve ever imagined — you actually cared for him.

you cared for him, and now coriolanus snow was fucking terrified.

and yet... he had asked you to return to his chambers every night after that.

for research purposes, of course. only research purposes,

to read to him, but his goal was to learn more about you rather than the text.

you would sit there and read until he asked you to stop. when he did, you would close the book, smile at him, place it back on his nightstand, and bid him goodnight.

after, he would wrestle with the blankets and pillows in order to find out how to deal with this.

how had he not expected this?

his only fault was that he neglected to realize how far your shyness would go. you had grown comfortable with him — and you admitted that you wanted something more, something he always felt he could not give. you weren’t shy — you just weren’t open with people you weren’t comfortable with.

he should’ve known. he should’ve. fucking. known.

he didn’t know how to deal with this, if he was being honest with himself.

he told himself that he asked for you every evening to get to know you better, for his own sanity and safety; but then he began to realize he had found out everything he needed to know.

good and honest. how fucking unfortunate.

he saw a part of you, but now he needed to know more.

so what did he do? he sent you flowers. flowers. an arrangement of red roses and lilacs.

he hated himself for the lilacs.

he got somewhere with you when he had made the first move before — maybe this would yield more promising results.

however, it didn’t.

all he received in return was an extra tray of food that had arrived in the afternoon. his favorite tea cakes, and a handwritten thank-you note detailed in your appreciation for the beautiful flowers. you signed your name, and that was it.

she doesn’t make first moves, he thought. she responds to them.

he knew what he had to do.

he found himself feeling better that day — well enough to end his sick leave and return to his matters. dinner was approaching, and he sent for you to join him for a private dinner this evening.

he was washed, dressed, and coiffed within the hour.

he found you in the dining parlor waiting for him, inspecting his large bookcase. you were trying to reach a book a bit above where your height would allow, extending yourself onto your toes. coriolanus walked up behind you, towering over you, and retrieved the book for you.

you glanced up at him with wide eyes. “thank you, coriolanus.”

“what intrigued you?” he asked, grinning softly.

“first one i couldn’t reach. i was working my way up.” you smiled at him, and then the book. “please — you must be hungry. let us eat.”

you sat down at the table across from him. dinner manners were rather stiff and uncomfortable, but your upbringing that was similar to coriolanus’ prevented you from straying from them. you ate in silence for a few moments before you spoke.

“how do you like his new book?” you asked.

coriolanus cleared his throat. “i find it riveting. i wouldn’t have been able to read it for some time if it hadn’t been for you.”

you smiled at your plate, blushing. “his points are very interesting. i was never very interested in politics — so the insight of someone so heavily involved with them is very informative. do you find that your opinions align with his? or does he not share your perspective?”

he appreciated your willingness to engage with him about topics you weren’t very fond of. an underrated trait, not found very often — he had to admit.

“a bit of both,” he responded. “the one thing he does not discuss is how important it is to have a certain type of person or persons in your regime that allows the flow of success to continue.”

you nodded. “you have built a strong administration — i’m sure he would admire what you have to say.”

“what do you believe?” he asked. “about partnerships?”

you swallowed, contemplating your answer. “i think… a successful partnership is where everyone is complimented by another. for instance, someone is better at briefing documents rather than the presentation of them, and another is the opposite.”

“which one are you?” coriolanus inquired.

you paused once more, folding your lip under. he realized that was a sign you were uncomfortable — unaware of how to proceed. after a moment, you answered, “i feel the most confident under a strong leader. i prefer to be behind the scenes. minute details are easier to be taken care of that way. while you and i are different, i respect you for being the strong leader panem needed. i am sure the majority would agree with me.”

now was the time.

“it is easy to be strong when one’s wife makes sure they are well,” he replied, eyes resting on your face. “i hope you know i appreciate your willingness to accept change and make sure needs are met.”

you smiled at him once more, then turned back to your food.

damn, he thought. didnt bite.

“and for being the companion i… didn’t think i would come to enjoy the company of,” he added.

you glanced up at him then, astonishment written in your eyes as plain as the words on the paper you read for him every night. “may i ask you… a question?”

he nodded.

“did you believe you wouldn’t enjoy my company before, or after you had first met me?”

“i don’t understand.”

you swallowed, clearing your throat. “were you… wary of the idea of marriage, or wary of me?”

your gaze did not break from his. you were braver than he thought.

“marriage,” he answered honestly, hoping to witness your reaction.

there was the affirmative smile — the one he hated. “thank you for — for being honest.”

your eyes didn’t wait for a response. you turned back to your food, and left him dumbstruck.

“i hope i have not displeased you,” he stated.

“no, coriolanus,” you spoke. “if i am being honest… i was wary i would not be suitable for you. if i have not displeased you, then i am well.”

“but you stated you wanted more,” he countered, tone even.

“i hoped we would… spend time together,” you answered. “and we have.”

it was coriolanus’ turn to be at a loss for words. what would this admission relay? it only solidified what he was afraid of — you wanted a marriage filled of love, and he was not prepared for that. ever.

“the flowers were beautiful,” you spoke, interrupting his thoughts. “thank you for sending them.”

“your lilac perfume is a wonderful addition to the capitol,” he spoke, unsure where this had come from. “i wanted you to know that.”

you weren't supposed to say that you weren't supposed to tell the truth you weren't supposed

you smiled at him appreciatively, that accompanied a slight twinkle in your eye. you were quick to return to eating, but coriolanus couldn’t stop staring at your face. he realized then that was his new favorite smile.

there was a moment, a small moment, where he wondered whether it would be such a crime if he did allow himself to enjoy your company more than he had. in that moment, he couldn’t think of how it would go wrong. for that moment, you were a simple, low-maintenance, beautiful woman on the other side of the table with him that just liked spending time with him — and he enjoyed that you weren’t a problem. would it so bad if he entertained the idea?

he immediately cut himself off. of course it was a bad idea.

once dinner has finished, he had requested to walk you back your chambers. if time spent together was what kept you at bay, he could manage that. he most certainly could.

when the pair of you had approached the door, you stopped for a moment and paused reaching for the handle. you spoke, “would you… like to come in?”

“not tonight,” he rasped. he gave you a polite smile. “another time.”

he watched as you blinked your eyes a few times and your lips quivered. you didn’t meet his gaze, for it fell — in what appeared to be embarrassment.

oh.

you invited him in to… to…

that he had not expected.

before you had the chance to leave, he swooped down and grabbed your chin in his thumb and forefinger. he pressed his lips to yours ever so softly, holding it there. the moment your breath caught in your throat, there was a strange feeling inside his chest that made him feel like he’d like to quell your worries by catching you off guard another time. and another. and another. and another. he couldn’t have you feeling rejected, no — not when he didn’t want to reject you. he needed heirs, sure — but they could wait. he would contemplate how long later.

once he pulled back, you smiled. inside you were bursting, and you wanted to hurry behind a closed door so he could not see your reaction. he continued to hold your chin and gaze at your face. feeling brave, you looked him in the eye as you bid him goodnight and went into your room.

you left him standing outside your door, facing its wood paneling.

what was he to do?

he wanted to keep you as emotionally far away as possible to avoid anything like this occurring. he was prepared for people who had an ulterior motive… not a young woman who only wanted to be good to her husband.

the worst part was… not every part of him wanted him to keep you away.

would it be so bad, if he had actually courted you?

you were not anyone from his past, no. you were not irresponsible and impulsive, and you could be trusted to remain within a designated role and space. you were rarely outspoken — you never strayed from your cue cards, nor did you get smart in private. you never spoke out of turn, which coriolanus always knew — this was just the first time he was more turned on than he was just grateful.

he reasoned a reward was in order.

he found his knuckles wrapping on the door before he could stop himself.

the small movements inside your apartments stalled for a moment, pulled taut like a string in an instrument. he could picture you — standing still and silent, waiting for an explanation.

then he heard footsteps approaching the door before the door handle turned. when you opened the door, the first thing he saw was your eyes.

those big, beautiful eyes that looked at him with surprise — and the slightest bit of hope. coriolanus would most likely try to convince himself that he stayed completely still to exercise a form of control over you — but deep down, he would never be able to believe that completely.

however… when you reached out with your soft, delicate hand, and pulled at his own — it didn’t matter why he did it, because he won.

he shut the door behind him, keeping your gaze.

“i would be coy and ask if we could spend time together in a... different way than usual…” you began, sighing. “but up until this moment i was convinced we would never…”

coriolanus was in no mood to quell insecurities and anxieties. he understood that words could not compare to actions, and so he would do just that.

coriolanus stepped forward, and pressed his large hands against the sides of your face. for a split moment — you almost looked terrified. he usually relished in that look from others, but with you it only made him concerned — angry, even.

“i don’t know what it is about you.” his voice was shaky. it was the first moment in your entire marriage that coriolanus had shown even a shred of weakness. “you smile, you obey, you take my transgressions like they’re fucking sweets. why?! tell me!”

your big, round eyes were blown wide as your brow was knitted together. your lips were parted in an innocent manner, and it only fueled his anger. one of your hands came up to gently lay across the back of his. “coriolanus — have you ever considered that i just wanted to get to know you?”

his eyes searched yours like they were an important document and he couldn’t believe what bullshit he was reading. his lips pursed in a manner that suggested a sour taste, and you felt your joy slipping, slipping, and slipping.

“coriolanus — if you want to go, then go.” your voice was breaking. you knew he was a cool, hard man — but this? this? it was almost too much. “you don’t have to stay if you don’t —“

he couldn’t take your nonsense anymore. he shut you up with a kiss.

he smashed your lips together like it was the first thing he should’ve done when he walked back into the room. a squeal died in your throat at the contact, but coriolanus held you there and upright. both of your hands found the firmness of his chest for balance. when he pulled away — he barely did. he kept his lips an inch away from yours as little tuffs of air pushed past. he leaned his forehead against yours, almost bonding the two of you.

“my greatest displeasure will be making you regret this,” he rasped, eyes screwed shut.

your breathing began to hasten as you contemplated your next words. you began to stroke coriolanus’ hands with your thumbs, hoping to coax him. “you say that like it’s inevitable.”

“it is not far from,” he choked through anger and sadness.

you couldn’t help but stare back at him as he almost glared at you — but then you realized that wasn’t the case. he wasn’t glaring at you — he was glaring through you. whatever traumatized him, whatever made him so distrustful of the world around him and the people in it… you realized then that you represented all of that to him. you had to be different. you had to show him that you were different than all of that.

“i’ve trusted you,” you whispered, almost pleading. “i would like for you to try and trust me. please, coriolanus… i’ve never asked you for anything — just this once —“

coriolanus shook his head, dismissing you. “it’s corio.”

he slammed his lips to yours. his kiss was that of a fight; burning with every cut of anger, frustration, desperation, and sadness in his soul. you weren’t sure if he accounted for your inexperience, but you let him lead as you swallowed all of his suffering. you knew you may never be everything you wanted to be for him — but for this moment, or for whatever he would allow — you could be his escape, and he could be yours.

just this once, you both thought. just this once.

his hands were on both sides of your face, caging you in as you were at the mercy of his bittersweet affection. you tried to keep up with him, almost afraid that you wouldn’t be enough for him — but corio didn’t care. he couldn’t have cared less as he backed you into the foot of the bed. he didn’t stop kissing you as the back of your legs hit your soft mattress, and you were forced to sit down.

with his tongue tangling with yours, you managed to lift your hands to the top buttons of his shirt. he batted your hands away and went to work on his own buttons. you reached behind for your zipper to your dress and attempted to undue it.

corio then pushed your hands away with that too — ripping the zipper down its track and pushing the sleeves down your shoulders.

“corio —“ you gasped through the kiss, struggling to keep up with him.

he pulled away for a short moment, staring into your eyes. “i have denied myself being with you for so long — nothing is stopping me now.”

he held the glare, and you could only stare back at him in fright. however, that was when you realized that he had felt the same way, or at least similar — you both wanted each other, and had been scared to approach the other. your heart filled with warmth, threatening to explode, but all you could do was nod.

he seemed to calm down then, glancing down towards your lips where he prodded your bottom lip with the tip of his numb. “i have wondered for so long what it would be like to kiss my perfect wife — and now that i know, i don’t think i’ll ever give it up.”

you smiled at that. “can i tell you what i have been wondering?”

his eyes met yours once more, almost a warning. you didn’t falter, though. he replied, “yes?”

“i’ve wondered what it would be like to please you,” you spoke softly, a pink hue rising to your cheeks.

his flat look broke then, softening. a smirk greeted his features and you could see his confidence in himself rise. “my lovely wife wants to please me?”

“yes,” you spoke, holding your breath. “if you’ll let me.”

bright and striking, flames of mischief came to light in his irises. emotions of excitement and fear rose within you, and you weren’t sure which was stronger. all you could do was watch as your strong, powerful, larger than life husband stood over you, chin raised, looking down his nose at you, as he unbuckled his belt. his pants and briefs, once around his ankles, were discarded — but you didn’t see that. you couldn’t look away from his eyes — holding you, and your gaze, in place.

it was like you were an enemy he was testing. you didn’t know what he expected, let alone what would make him happy — but you hoped his expectations were slightly lower in light of your inexperience. you swallowed the hard rock of nervousness in your throat, stood up, and gestured for him to sit down on the edge of the bed. he raised an eyebrow at you, but complied. you sat down on your knees in between his, and waited patiently for direction.

“can you…” you began. “can you teach me?”

he smirked once more. “take me in your hand.”

you bent your head lower, and grabbed him by the base. he was hard and warm in your hand as you saw him trying to fight the twitching feeling in his limbs. his muscles were tight, afraid to show weakness. you grew uncomfortable — you didn’t want him weak, but you did want him to feel comfortable enough with you to enjoy a fucking blowjob.

holding his muscle upright, you stuck your tongue out and licked around the tip of his cock. he was salty, but smelled so masculine after a long day. his scent infiltrated all of your senses and had captured your attention. it made you hungry, greedy — so much so that you closed your lips around his cock and began to suck.

he jumped then. “teeth,” he spat.

you paled in embarrassment and fright — but didn’t allow your fear to show for long. you adjusted your tongue and lips — so that your top lip was folded under your top set, and your outstretched tongue covered your bottom set. hollowing out your cheeks, you took him into your mouth once more.

a low hum filled his chest.

you couldn’t see him, and could barely hear him — corio was being a selfish lover and not letting you know whether or not he was enjoying himself. he told you once before you were doing something wrong, so you tried to trust that he would tell you.

that was easier said than done, frankly. with your free hand, you reached up and began to massage his sack in the soft skin of your palm. the hum in his chest turned deeper and louder, and you felt his hips twitch once.

maybe it shouldn't have mattered that he wasn't vocal — but it wasn't like he was shy. you would not fault him for not doing something he didn't want to do, but it was like he was denying you that. if you were making him feel good, and he was fighting the volume of his moans — how fucking dare he deny you of that! there you were, constantly at his beck and call, and he couldn't even freely moan with you? you were obedient, quiet, grateful, everything he wanted — but this? this? too much. absolutely too much of an ask.

you had to do something.

"mr. president," you cooed, twisting your soft tongue around the tip of his cock. "you're awfully quiet above me."

he let out a laugh as he struggled to keep his composure. one of hands found the back of your head as his fingers struggled to tangle themselves in between your strands. they were tugging and pulling, but there was no strength in his grip. his grip — wouldn't catch. couldn't catch. corio, you husband — struggled day in and day out to keep the control in the capital and inside his castle. there was a part of you that believed he just needed to let go, let someone else be in control — but you were his pretty little wife after all. you had until death to try everything. losing control could wait, because tonight... tonight was about making corio the grateful one for once.

you let your loose grip run circles up and down the length of his cock. his shaft was wet and thick, begging the attention of the light from above so the skin was able to glisten. the tip of his cock, red and angry, almost neglected — never had you seen something so delicious, nor deserving of affection. your lips, swollen, wrapped themselves around the tip of his cock as you sucked. notes of salt and sweat mixed together on your tongue, and you hummed at the taste.

"taste sweet, mrs. snow?" you heard from above you. your eyes glanced up to find corio's eyes glazed over with pleasure. his eyelids were drooping over, and all you could think about how badly you wanted to make him close his eyes in bliss. your eyes watched his eyes, but his eyes watched the way your mouth sucked him in. "being so good for me. let your husband see what else you can do."

your ears perked in interest. you didn't know what he meant, but you were intrigued to see if he would teach you.

"please... show me what you like," you spoke, extending your neck as he lowered his face to yours.

"so eager to please..." he spoke, staring down at you in awe. his hand slid down for your scalp to cup your cheek. he looked into your eyes like he was studying you — searching for something surface level. a flaw, or something good... you weren't sure. "i suppose some would say i'm lucky."

you didn't like the sound of that... but you didn't let it show. you gave him a hint of a smile. "i don't think it matters what anyone else thinks. i think what matters is you telling me what you like... so you can decide if you're lucky or not."

he chuckled at that, but his laugh was reserved. always holding back, your husband. "you really want to be a good little wife for me... don't you?"

you fell into the strength behind the hand on your face and keened into his touch. his hand was warm against your skin. "please, corio... please let me."

he stood then, and your gaze raised with his body. you gazed up at him as he stared down at you. there his eyes went again — searching yours. he stood closer to you then, bending down slightly. "it would please me if, at any point, you told me to stop because of the pain. i don't want to hurt you." his voice was low and soft then, immediately striking you. "can i trust you to do that? hmm?"

"i'll tell you," you replied, nodding your head. "i promise."

"never break a promise you make to me," he warned.

you nodded your head once more, unsure how to proceed. he led you over to the side of the bed where he gestured for your to lie down. with the passing of time, you became more and more aware of how bare you both were in front of each other. you were ready to let down every fence of insecurity for the man before you... but there were still walls of his that threatened to come down. he was hot and cold every other moment, it seemed... and you weren’t even sure where to begin.

“husband,” you spoke, unsteadily, as he found his place between his legs. “you seem so… distrustful of me. what can i do? please, corio, i just want this moment to be special for us — for you.”

there his eyes went — searching yours again. it was like he was rereading a page in a book over and over, hoping to find the hidden message in the black and white scripture. his eyes, going back and forth, appeared to be looking over unclear smudges and scribbles as his lips began to purse. you almost said something — stopped him from withdrawing into himself, but he moved before you could.

he sat back against the pillows, which faced a mirror across your bed. you rose curiously, hoping that he would finally give you some direction. he simply took your hand in his, and gestured for you to come closer. “come,” he spoke.

in his lap, maybe? you thought curiously. you went to throw your leg over his, before he stopped you. with a furrowed brow, you watched as he adjusted you so your back laid against his chest.

“do as i say,” he whispered against your ear, sending shivers up and down your spine.

your eyes were cast to the side, his outline in your peripheral vision. you nodded, letting your lips fall apart. you felt one of his hands on the soft skin of your thigh, grazing upwards towards your hips. you almost let your eyes fall closed, hoping to lose yourself in the sensations, before corio stopped you.

with that same hand, he reached upwards and grasped your chin between his fingers. your eyes shot open as he moved your head to now face the mirror, and the pair of you in it.

shallow breaths were pushing past your lips as you stared into the mirror. your cheeks were flushed, your hair in a slight disarray, and your lips were swollen. with a flutter of your eyelashes, your gaze flickered towards corio’s reflection. your husband was always perfect — so even the slight persuasion from tidiness was a remarkable sight to you. his eyes were focused — unable to remain cool, calm, and collected as usual.

his eyes, you thought. his eyes will always tell me.

“you will watch,” corio spoke suddenly, voice hard. “you will keep your eyes on my hands. you stray, and i leave. understand?”

you nodded, looking into his eyes through the mirror.

he cocked an eyebrow.

“yes,” you spoke, almost breathless. “i understand.”

corio’s hand then found its way to your center. the tips of his finger tips, soft and hot, lightly drew a line up and down your slit. your eyes wouldn’t leave the mirror — focused on his fingertips. it was like your skin knew every correct button to tap, tap, tap. every part of you was so sensitive, so keen to his touch that you were embarrassed. you felt so pathetic against his chest, bent to his will — but you wouldn’t have had it any other way. the voice in your head was whining and hoping you would give in, just give in, let down your guard, give in, forget manners. you wanted to keep your composure as long as possible, but when corio’s middle finger found your clit…

oh… you were done for.

one of your hands immediately snapped up to find corio’s bicep and clutch onto whatever foundation he could give. you didn’t dare let your eyes meet his, even in the mirror — what if he stopped? what, huh? what then? when you were the closest you had been ever? you couldn’t allow yourself to be greedy, not when he was being oh, so selfless.

the circles he was drawing taunted your ability remain calm. he rolled your tiny clit underneath the weight of the tip of his finger and pressed down with every circle. it pushed, and pulled, and fucking pried at every fiber of your being. you could only force yourself up and back against corio, whining like a pathetic mess.

“running away from me, my sweet?” he whispered in your ear. “when i’m being so kind?”

his words bit at your ear, reminding you of your position in his world. your eyes were threatening to drift closed, hoping, praying, that corio would let you slip this once from your responsibilities. naive, you were, to believe that.

“remember our deal, wife,” he darkly cooed in your ear. “one request was all i had. i refuse to be denied it.”

“i know, i know…” you whined, rolling your hips with his hand. “it just feels so good, corio… i’ve never… no one’s ever…”

“i can tell you never knew how bad your body would crave it,” he spoke, nipping at your earlobe. “even your pussy obeys me, drenching my fingers. too sweet for this world, aren’t you?”

“just wanna be sweet for you, corio,” you whined as your vision began to blur.

the approaching orgasm was anything but a warm and fuzzy feeling around you. it was hot and jagged — making your muscles jerk, yet force your hips to roll into every movement of corio’s. the cloud over your brain felt like a warm haze of the finest whisky or tobacco the capital could offer. you were numb, drunk, and unable to process the world around you unless it was corio. his touch, his taste, his scent, his look, his orders… everything was setting you off and keeping you in place all at once. your body was hot to the touch, feverish as it tried to fight your sophistication and just fucking —

“that’s it, sweetheart. so focused on the mirror you can’t even find the strength to let go for me,” he spat, pressing a kiss to your cheek and breathing in your scent. “ride my hand like the good girl you are. you wanted to show me, remember?”

tears were brimming your eyes and blurring your vision. your teeth were gritted and bared for him. one of his hands came up to loosely grasp your throat as your hips began to spasm. it was so much, too much, so much —

“corio, please —“ you cried. “please let me look away. i can’t — i have to cry, i can’t —“

there was no softness in his movements against your aching clit. corio had now employed two fingers to dip into your core, collect your slick, and rub it along your sensitive bud in harsh circles. it sent your mind through a suffocating tube and gasping for air. you were begging, pleading — unsure what would happen if you were denied the ability to finish in peace. you began to cry in frustration and fear, so sensitive to the touch and his approval.

“corio…” you whimpered. “please, please let me…”

“do it,” he spat, holding your throat and kissing your face. “show your husband how fucking messy you can be for him.”

you grasped onto him and threw yourself back.

it was like a rollercoaster. twists and turns, yanking your body every which way. corio’s body rocked with yours as the sensations climbed and fit into every single one of your limbs. your lungs, burning, were screaming for air as you tried to fight for consciousness. the world was white, milky, foggy — unable to navigate, let alone exist in. all you could feel was corio’s body moving with yours and coaxing you through the most insane moment of your entire life.

tears fell down your face, and you struggled to conceal it. corio refused to let you hide from him. he bent his face low to yours and pressed the side of his face against the side of yours.

his breaths were heavy, similar to yours.

“corio…” you whimpered, almost whining.

“i know, sweetheart,” he cooed. “so good for me, weren’t you? asking so obediently and politely.”

you nodded, pressing your forehead against his. “i’m sorry that i was —“

“what’re you sorry for?” he demanded.

you clenched your jaw. “i was — i am — i’m worried i was too much — i was so — out of control —“

he shut you up with a kiss. coriolanus snow refused to allow you to continue, or else he knew he would be offended if he had let you finished.

“i wanted that,” he stated. “every bit of that. what, you don’t find it agonizing to be prim and fucking proper every day?”

you laughed uneasily, a bit spooked by his outburst of aggression. “i thought you — i thought that was what you wanted from me.”

he shook his head. “out there — it’s necessary. in here, when it’s only the two of us? don’t ever hide yourself from me. you must promise.”

you swallowed as your haze began to disappear. “only if you promise the same."

you saw his jaw pulse from the corner of your eye. “i promise.”

“i promise,” you returned.

you quickly reconnected your lips. you couldn't let the moment slip away. you needed to seize him while he was there — trusting you for the first time in your entire relationship. you found both of your hands on the side of his face and held him to you. corio fought for control, but you gave in immediately. the need for him to need you was stronger and more satisfying that anything else you could've experienced in that moment. you turned around, straddling his lap and pushing him down to the bed.

everything you were doing was improper: grabbing your husband, forcibly kissing him, sitting in his lap, pushing him down... you almost stopped. you almost gave into the insecurity and made friends with with meekness and shyness once more. however, you made a promise — and you intended to keep it.

"i want you inside me, corio," you whispered against his lips. "please, i want to feel you —"

"again, sweetheart?" he ripped himself from your lips to grunt out his teasing. "one taste, and you're addicted?"

you hummed approval against his lips, tangling your tongue with his. with one hand on the back of your head, holding your face to his, corio's other hand fished between the pair of you and grasped his leaking cock in his hand. the tip was red and swollen, aching for some stimulation or attention. he spread his precum over his tip and with a firm hand, corio slid his cock inside of you.

you arched your back away from corio. the feeling of him being fully sheathed inside of you bent your attention in every which was. both of your hands cradled the back of his head into your chest, where he found himself nestled between your breasts. his breaths were hot and heavy, moist against your skin. his swollen lips found one of your perky nipples and sucked it into his mouth, caving to his primal urges. coriolanus snow wanted every part of you for himself, and needed to place that claim on every part of your body. he wanted your thighs to shake and ache from being locked around him, your fingers to tremble from your hard grip, and he wanted your lips to be bruised from how hard he made you bite them. and, most of all, he wanted every loud moan to rip itself from your aching throat and fill the perfectly painted walls of this damned room.

he cursed you when you threw a hand over your mouth, and he immediately ripped it away. "don't you fucking dare," he spat.

you ignored him. he was your husband, and he was the scariest man you would ever meet, and yet you ignored him. most of all, your hips ignored him. they began to roll against his own the best they could for their inexperience. up, down, and grinding down was the best they could manage before corio grabbed you by the flesh of your hips and moved you to his liking. and when your mouth parted and a loud cry made your throat shake when he twisted your hips forward, he knew he found the spot.

"do not ever deny me what i am owed," he spat, fucking into that spot that wrapped a tight band around your abdomen. "i want to hear how good i am making you feel, and i will. i get to hear. those are mine. i am owed those."

again, you ignored him. what did he expect when your eyes began to roll back into your head and you began to match his pace? you were close, you were so, so close...

that was when corio grabbed you by the chin, refusing to let up his pace. his eyes were full of darkness, yet focus. like he had found his prey. you tried to focus, tried to give him the respect the deserved... but you couldn't. your mind was swimming, and your arching cunt was dripping down his length and onto the skin of his pelvis. you were lost. so fucking lost.

"yours, corio!" you whined. "all yours. only yours."

his voice was gruff against your lips as his thrust became rougher. "say it again."

your eyes began to drift closed as you leaned your head into the crook of his neck, rolling your hips against his. his cock had found its way to the most sensitive and purest part of you and ripped down every wall you had. you sobbed, "yours, corio. only yours."

corio threw you off of him and your back hit the bed. he was on top of you in an instant. he threw your legs up and pressed them against your chest. with your ankles on his shoulders, he pushed himself inside of you and began to relentlessly punish your perfect fucking pussy.

"mine, you got that?" he spat against your ear. "i have watched you, day after day, put on this fucking act! perfect and proper — but i made a proper whore out of the most desirable woman in the capital, didn't i? and now she's mine — forever warming my bed."

"forever, corio," you whined. your sobs were music to his ears, going straight to his cock. your cunt was raw from the friction and slick, unsure if corio should stop or keep going — but you didn't let him guess. "inside me, corio, please... want it to bad. been so good for you..."

his hand was around your throat and demanding your attention. "as if i'd waste a drop when every man in the capital would be able to see you round with my child. you want that wife? my seed, my child? you want to be fully claimed by me?"

"yes," you cried, tears falling down your cheeks. "give it to me, husband, please —"

corio reached down in between your hips and rubbed your clit with whatever energy he had left. his thrust were growing sloppy, but his movements against your swollen bud were worse. he was hissing in your ear as he continued the assault against you. your moans were loud as they escaped your lips and filled the room, setting corio's skin on fire. sweat dripped down from his brow and down his neck to mingle with yours as your second orgasm of the evening began to approach. it snapped the rubber band in your lower belly and you immediately sobbed into corio's neck. his hips continued to rut in you, forcing you down onto the bed as he swallowed all of your sobs for himself. your nails dug into his back and down his spine, hoping to rip parts from him that he had taken from you.

when corio came, you were in a stupor. cock drunk with your mouth hanging open, dazed. when corio came, one of his hands grabbed your messy pile of hair, wrenching at the roots. he pulled you to the side to suck on the sensitive skin of your neck as he pumped your cunt full of his cum. your walls were hot and sticky, full of him, but it only caused the most sickeningly warm feeling to spread throughout you. every primal need of yours was satisfied, and corio could see every bit of it on your face. the pride that welled within your husband... shameful. no man should be in possession of such an ego boost like making the prettiest, more desired woman in all of panem break from all bounds of social etiquette. you were warm, and wet, and craving every bit of his touch, so he couldn't deny you... not anymore. not when he felt the same. with each sob that left your mouth, he felt a kick in the pit of his stomach as his balls throbbed. never in his life had a woman ripped from him what he had taken from her, cheeks hot and muscles worn out.

he would regret it in the morning, maybe, but not now. no — not now.

"husband, forgive me, but..." you spoke. "my mind is a mess. i don't think i can read to you this evening."

corio rolled his eyes and laughed. "that good?"

you pressed a kiss to his lips as you hummed in approval. "never wait that long to bed your wife again."

he chuckled darkly. "watch it, sweetheart."

---

love u guys sm sorry it was so long ty for reading love u love u love u

-L xooxoxooxox

[churipu]

Hiii!! I can ask for jjk men (your choice!) with a girlfriend who doesn't look like it but is like super strong! ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ I have a love for those types of characters<3 thanks in advance!

I hope you are getting better ❤️‍🩹

jjk men & their "looks like a cinnamon roll but could kill" you gf

featuring. gojo satoru, toji fushiguro, nanami kento x fem! reader

warnings. cursing

note. anonnn <33 i absolutely love this one, i have so many speculations for different characters about this request omg, thank you for requesting love, i hope this one is up to par, much love xoxo (and i am feeling so much better now, thank you for checking up on me). OH AND GUESS WHAT? u don't understand how thankful i am to reach 300+ followers in the first week??? u guys rock, ilysm

GOJO SATORU. i feel like he'd feel so betrayed after finding out how you're very strong?? one second he's looking away and then the next second, he looks back and a curse is ready to pounce on you. he grits his teeth when he realizes that — but before he could even do anything, there you were, sending out a strong punch that leaves a gust of wind as a cherry on top.

gojo could only stare at you, jaw dropped. all he could think of was how on earth did you do that and how could someone so...cute and adorable like you send out that kind of punch. honestly, on one side he felt so betrayed to only know of your power now — but on the other side, he's so damn proud of you.

after all of that, you still managed to send him your most innocent smile as if you didn't just almost possibly created a hurricane with that punch of yours. skipping happily and then throwing yourself onto the male, "satoru!"

"you never cease to surprise me, baby." he chuckles.

and you blinked at him innocently, a little confused at what he's talking about. at first gojo thought you were just pretending not to know, but when he realized that you actually didn't know, it dawned upon him that maybe you didn't even realize how strong you actually are.

"y/n, you just obliterated a curse."

"oh. oh. yeah! i did."

yeah, you definitely weren't aware of your own strength. which surprised gojo even more.

TOJI FUSHIGURO. he's always thought that protecting you was one of his main duty, and believe me when i say that toji is always on guard for anything that could possibly send harm your way. feral animals, harmful plants, annoying babies, curses, anything he finds annoying — he just assumes you don't like them either.

despite not having a cursed energy, toji is strong. anyone would agree with that. so when he settled in with you, someone who radiates such loving and gentle aura, toji made it his job to keep you out of harm's way.

but apparently, you've got that under covered.

being in a relationship meant going out on dates occasionally, right? however, some people do not understand the meaning of "i have a boyfriend" and it annoys you. so when toji was away to fetch a few things and you were left alone, a stranger felt like it was the best time to hit on you.

"saw ya' from a couple of minutes ago, thought you're cute. we should hang out."

obviously the word "no" didn't work as he kept on bothering you, and you do know how people react when they don't get what they want sometimes? they just plain out throw words to boost up their ego and deny their own embarrassment. it's funny.

"whatever. ya' aren't that cute anyways." everything began out as an exchange of words — until anger consumes the best out of them. the male got ready to swung his hand on you.

and believe me when i say that toji was having the time of his life watching you exchange angry words with the guy, until he saw the male raise his hand. toji was about to drop everything and come to your rescue, but stopped when you smacked the stranger across his face harshly it sent him stumbling over his own feet.

toji chuckled lightly, although surprised. that day, i swore he promised himself not to get on your bad side (also, he thought it was pretty hot of you). he told you he'd been watching from afar, and was so ready to be your knight in shining armor.

apparently, you are your own knight in shining armor.

NANAMI KENTO. for the longest time, nanami has stood his ground in defending you from malices and curses. some of the people do not like the idea of you and him together, especially girls who failed to obtain his attention (obviously). and he'd always be the one to tell them to piss off and not to butt in his relationship.

you were just a normal businesswoman working normal office hours, and nanami — well, he's a pretty busy man. but he has made himself visible to your work environment a couple of times, mostly because you were clumsy enough to forget your bento box that you made for yourself before going to work.

and apparently that few times was enough to make girls swoon over your boyfriend. honestly, you could care less. you trust nanami. but things went rock bottom when this one particular girl, a co-worker who was obviously jealous of you. and she doesn't hesitate in showing that to you.

"accidentally" spilling coffee on you, "accidentally" stepping on your foot with her heels, "accidentally" bumping into you, "accidentally" elbowing your head when she walks by. just everything in an attempt to get a reaction out of you so she could possibly play the victim card.

you brushed her every attempt off, although it bothered you quite a bit. but your last straw was when she "accidentally" ruined the report you've been working on for the past week, sacrificing your rest and sweat for it — only for her to dump down a cup of iced macchiato on it the day you were supposed to hand it in to your boss.

you've just had enough of her, and this was not something you can brush off like her other "accidents" because this report would affect your position in the company (and possibly get you fired). but at this point, do you even care? no, no you don't.

"so, is this the part where i hit her?" you ask another co-worker who was there in the room when everything happened, and they nervously shook their head, "really? i feel like this is the part where i do."

so when you did send a punch to her jaw, your other co-workers were quick to run find help (your boss). and all it took was one punch to make the girl wobble weakly, her knees buckling.

oh, and your boss wasn't too happy about your resort in violence, especially in the work area.

"i don't care, i'm fired anyways." you took off the company's id card that was hanging from around your neck and tossed it onto the table before packing your bag to leave.

your boss wasn't the only unhappy one, you were too. and nanami as well.

"it isn't my fault, kento."

"i know, darling. i'm not saying it's your fault, i'm just surprised...that's all."

well, that was the first time you've ever threw a punch to someone. and the first time you've ever been fired, so yes. it is a surprise to nanami, but to you? you were expecting it sooner or later with the pace of how that co-worker was going in with her shenanigans.

"she was pushing it."

nanami was silently proud of you for being able to defend yourself though, "well, at the end of the day, you won the fight. right?"

© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !

[feelingf1]

get him back! - lando norris

pairing: lando norris x female!reader

summary: you were carlos’ girlfriend, that was until he cheated on you. you know the perfect way to get him back

note: my first social media au! sorry if it’s crap haha. yes i’m still obsessed with liv’s new album. olivia rodrigo faceclaim 😚

warning: curse words and translated spanish xx

enjoy <3

————

comments:

user6485: I do not support this Carlos. WTFFF

y/nloverrr: WDYM MOM AND DAD MIGHT BE BROKEN UP. FUCK OFFF

sm00th0perat0r: does 5 years mean nothing to idiotic men??

y/nxcarloslover: therapy session at my house at 9

y/ninstagram

liked by landonorris, y/nupdatess, and others

y/ninstagram: back in the studio, i guess.

163,749 comments:

y/nloverr: omg mom & dad are actually over😭

user84821: THIS IS NOT GOOD. OH NO.

carlossss1655: @user84821 why not?

user84821: SHE ONLY HAS BREAKUP SONGS

y/nblog: i’ll go get the tissues

f1wags.com: lando in the likes?

landonorris

liked by y/ninstagram, mclaren, danielricciardo and others

landonorris: p4!!! lfg!!!

450,632 comments:

mclaren: And that’s how it’s done! 🧡

landoslover: YESS LETS GO LANDOOOOO!!!!

danielricciardo: nice job mate xoxo

y/nupdates: y/n, what are you doing here???

y/nloverr: @y/nupdates what are you implying?

y/nupdates: @y/nloverr i think you know…

carlossainz

liked by charlesleclerc, f1wagss, ferrari and others

carlossainz: mi belleza

520,749 comments

user8385 WHO TF IS THAT???

carloooos: 5 years and this mf moves on in 5 seconds

y/nlovebot: manwhore. and not in a good way

f1wags.com: uh we were not expecting this??

f1gossip: No Lando in the likes? Lando always likes Carlos’ posts🤨

user7585: @/f1..gossip DON’T TEASE ME.

y/ninstagram

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y/ninstagram: better off without u anyways xoxo

y/nlover: YOU TELL THEM MOTHER

user9395871: SHE ATE HIM UP AND SPAT HIM OUT🫣

landonorris: gorgeous xx

f1dramaa: LANDO?? WTF

y/nlovebot: THEY’RE DEFO DATING, RIGHT???

lastlaplando: YES THEY HAVE TO BE??

comments:

user4959693: SHUT THE FUCK UP. NO WAYYY

y/n5everr: OH MY GOD. WHAT THE HELLLL

landosparklyhemlet: Y/N AND LANDO?? I’M SO HERE FOR THIS

y/nuser: 👀🫣

landolover: OH FUCK THEY’RE SO TOGETHER

user73859: YES GIRL GET HIS ASS

y/nblogs: OH BABYGIRL I LOVE U AND UR MIND

y/ninstagram

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y/ninstagram: new single out tonight! be there or be square

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y/ninstagram

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tagged: landonorris

y/ninstagram: get him back! is out right now!! thank you to everybody who helped produce this song. a big thank you to my sweet boy for guiding me though a dark time, and also helping make a certain someone jealous and mad ;)

i love you. <3

835,306 comments

y/nlovebot: OMG LANDO AND Y/N CONFIRMED

iloveyou444: I CANNOT DEAL WITH THEM😭😭

landonorris: I am so proud of you, my angel 🧡

f1gossip.com: SHUT THE FRONT DOOR

landonorris

liked by y/ninstagram, danielricciardo, oscarpiastri and others

tagged: y/ninstagram

landonorris: I will never let anybody hurt you, my bean. You are my absolute everything and I am so so proud of you.

Stream Y/N’s new song right now on all platforms!

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y/ninstagram

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y/ninstagram: i would be lost if i didn’t have you with me, my lando. i love you more than words.

502,485 comments

landonorris: you’re mine and mine only y/n <3

danielricciardo: you kids will make me cry

alexalbon: me too

maxverstappen: me three

[ivysangel]

The thought of getting Jason to gasp, like, actually gasp is, to me, such a giggling-and-kicking-my-feet-thought.

Like, yes, please gasp

Any gasp.

Gasping!Jason who runs off to the nearest bathroom because he doesn’t want to wake you up. Closing and locking that door as quietly as possibly before taking his seat wherever the fuck he can because he needs to cum to at least the thought of you. He won’t even need any form of lubricant, his head is gorgeously dripping with pre, he simply has to smear it over his hard-on and get going. And he certainly fucking does, gasping, breath hitching, everything, as soon as he wraps his hands around his dick.

“Holy fuck, ‘feels ‘so good..”

Gasping!Jason who most defiantly has to take a second just to pull himself together every time he bottoms out the first time. Holding your hips so gently yet firmly enough to press you against the mattress, slowly sliding past your pretty folds, bottoming out with jaw clenching and inhaling sharply. He can’t help it, he has to detach one of his hands, grabbing the sheet beside your head, burying his face in the nape of your neck to gasp softly. He needs a second to just feel your fluttering walls around him. You vocally have to tell him to get moving before he actually pulls himself together.

“S-Sorry, sorry babe, just need a sec’… fuck, ye’ feel so good, what the fuck.”

Gasping!Jason who simply won’t shut the fuck up when he finally lets go. Your back pressed against his chest, both on your knees as he rams into you, head thrown back without a care as gasping out breathily, hissing and an occasional, rare moan. He can’t keep his hands off of you either, an arm tight around your stomach to keep you up, all while he gropes at your tits with the same hand. His other hand is desperately grabbing whatever he can. He just wants you between his hands, gasping out praises with the most disgusting nicknames.

“Fuck, you’re taking me so good.. oh, fuck-, just like that, fucking-, mgh, bitch.. You’re such a slut for me, so tight ‘n’ everythin’..”

Men who make noise. Men who make noise!! MEN WHO MAKE NOISE.

(Thanks for coming to my ted talk, xoxo)

gasping…virgin…jason? like, u just gotta hear me out. bc all of this!! but it's 10x worse bc he's literally never felt the touch of a woman before.

the dude's nerves are blazing like a california wildfire, and he's trying not to cum after 0.001 seconds bc that would be embarrassing as hell. he's trying to seem all domineering n shit, calling you dirty names because yk asserting dominance or whatever. but you can see right through his virgin ass. it just takes one good back scratch for him to see stars.

anyway, just food for thought.

[ellecdc]

hi darling!! hope u are good and pretty. i wanna make a request!! could u write something with remus x gnreader? like, theyre in a party kinda tipsy but having the time of their lifes, so reader invites rem to dance (a sensual(? song, i dont have any in my mind rn so u can choose it :)) and teaches him (bc i think remus doesnt really know how to dance) and then things get kinda heated, but reader doesnt do nothing about it bc they like to tease around. if u dont feel comfy writing it thats alright, ur work is totally amazing! xoxo

hi sweets! I hope you're good and lovely! Thanks so much for your ask, here's a little blurb on you dancing with Remus!

Remus Lupin x gn!reader who convinces him to dance

Remus doesn’t do this. Remus isn’t spontaneous, he isn’t outgoing, and he certainly doesn’t dance.

Except, it would appear, that tonight he does dance because you came running over to him, out of breath and slightly shiny from exerting yourself, begging him with that sweet smile of yours to get up and dance with you.

And Remus tried. He said “no, sorry” to which you said “come on, Rem. Please? For me?” to which Remus responded, “I don’t dance.” To which you bat your eyes at him and repeated “please? For me?” and how could he say no to that? 

He couldn’t.

So, he reluctantly allowed you to pull him up by his wrists, and he tried to control his heartbeat having your fingers so close to his pulse point, and he groaned dramatically as he felt his cheeks turn pink but he went anyway because you were laughing and smiling at him like that and it just seemed that this is where he ought to be.

“You’re supposed to move your hips, Remus.” You teased him, still holding him by the wrists and trying to swing his body on his behalf.

“I don’t dance, Y/N.” He repeated himself, which seemed like a sad excuse seeing as he accepted your offer and was officially standing on the dance floor.

“Not like that, you don’t!” You chided, smile still beaming, eyes still bright like you were having the best time of your life. “Like this.” You said more quietly and released your grip on his wrists.

He wasn’t able to mourn the loss of your touch for long as you placed your hands gently, tentatively on his hip bones and started encouraging them to move.

“Loosen up, Rem. You’re too stiff.”

Remus scoffed and then decided to go ‘no-bones’, falling limp into your embrace. He was happy to note that you didn’t let him fall, even when he was acting like a tosser.

“You oaf! Stand up.” You chuckled, pushing him off of you with a grunt. “Come on, loosen up, let me move you.”

“I can’t dance.” He repeated.

“Don’t you trust me?” You all but whispered at him, your smile falling into something much softer, much kinder. Your eyes moved slowly between both of his, fliting down to his lips ever so often before returning to his eyes. He found when you were looking at his lips, his eyes felt naked, but when you looked into his eyes, his lips missed your attention.

“Of course I trust you.” He admitted quickly. “I wouldn’t be standing here making a fool of myself if I didn’t.”

You laughed like he had said something truly funny and pulled his hips flush with yours. “I don’t think you look like a fool. I think you look lovely.”

“Lovely?” He questioned, allowing you to move the two of you back and forth. “I think you’re lovely.”

“Yeah?” You asked, eyes brightening impossibly further. He smiled at you and moved his hands to the nape of your neck, holding you to him as you were holding him to yourself.

“The loveliest.” He proclaimed.

It took Remus about three songs before he realized you’d been moving the both of you in a sort of dance, hips moving in sync against one another as the music played, chatting about everything and nothing, lost in the other’s eyes and smiles. 

[rafesapologist]

the set up — rafe cameron; part seventeen

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you've been one of the pogues since childhood, and your loyalty has always lied within your friend group, who is practically your family. when a threat by the name of rafe cameron begins to threaten the pogue's plans, they assign you to gain the trust of the dubious kook and keep an eye on what he's up to. however, now it's been six months since your friends set you up to spy on the kook prince himself, but what you didn't anticipate was to fall head over heels for the boy. your relationship had soon become inviolable shortly after your guys' first exchanges, much to your friends' dismay, and you two became practically inseperable. that was, until rafe discovers the truth.

warnings: angst, swearing, drug use, emotional outbursts, reckless rafe, mentions of substance abuse

author's note: Y'ALL let me clear up some confusion on the last chapter!! please note that rafe and y/n are on a break (no not in a ross and rachel type of way) so i promise the plot line is not that y/n cheated don't stone me OK anyways please enjoy dont hate me i promise im not here to dissapoint u all xoxo

The cozy afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows of the chateau, casting a warm glow over the living room. JJ and you found yourselves immersed in the absurd drama of a mindless reality TV show, sharing laughter and lighthearted banter.

As the ridiculous antics of the show unfolded on the screen, your legs were comfortably propped up on JJ's lap. He sat beside you on the couch, a bag of M&M's resting between the two of you. The crinkling sound of the candy bag echoed in the room as you both indulged in the colorful treats.

With each shared chuckle, you felt a sense of normalcy and comfort in the midst of recent chaos. The camaraderie between you and JJ, the simple joy of laughter, and the sweet companionship made that quiet afternoon a welcomed respite from the challenges you both faced.

During the commercial break, you turned to JJ, your eyes meeting in the dim glow of the living room. The TV cast a soft flicker across your faces as you gathered the courage to broach the subject.

"Hey, JJ," you began, "I was thinking, with everything going on and me recovering, do you mind covering my shifts at the golf course for a while?"

JJ met your gaze with a warm smile. "Sure thing, Y/N. I've always wanted to be a bev cart guy." You chuckled at his response, appreciating the lighthearted moment amidst the challenges you were facing.

JJ couldn't help but feel a warm sense of satisfaction as he watched you laugh. The dim light of the TV reflected in your eyes, accentuating the joy that danced within them. The dimples that formed on the sides of your mouth made the moment even more enchanting for him.

In that lighthearted exchange, as laughter echoed in the chateau's living room, JJ felt a growing connection with you. It was a simple moment, but the intimacy of sharing laughter brought a sense of comfort and pleasure, making it a memory he cherished.

JJ cleared his throat, realizing the shift in the atmosphere after his lighthearted joke. He tried to regain composure by placing his hand on your thigh, attempting a casual move, but the unintended tension in the air made the situation awkward.

"Yeah, um," you responded, sitting up straighter as an awkward cough escaped. The playful moment took an unexpected turn, leaving a subtle discomfort that lingered between you and JJ, "thank you for doing this for me. You've made this process a lot easier." Your gaze remained on your lap, not wanting to acknowledge the longing look in JJ's eyes.

JJ nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. "Of course, Y/N. Anything for you," he replied, a genuine warmth in his voice. The acknowledgment of your appreciation made the air a bit lighter, but the unspoken tension still hung in the room.

JJ got up from the couch, stretching slightly. "Well, time to hit the golf course. Gotta keep those beverage carts in check, you know?" he said with a playful grin. You nodded, appreciating the levity he brought to the situation. "I'll be back later. Take it easy, okay?" JJ added, his eyes reflecting concern for your well-being.

JJ returned, the fabric of his golf course uniform emphasizing his athletic build. He flashed a charming smile at you, his dimples deepening as he leaned down to place a gentle kiss on the top of your head. "I'll be back before you know it. Remember, call me if you need anything," he reassured you, his words carrying a genuine warmth that lingered in the air after he left.

"Thanks Jay." You flashed him a weak smile, a subtle hum in your response.

With a soft smile and a parting "Course," JJ headed out, leaving you to relax in the comfort of the chateau. The door closed with a gentle click, and you settled into the solitude, thoughts swirling as you contemplated the recent events and the uncertain path ahead.

-

Meanwhile, at the golf course, Rafe was trying to find some semblance of normalcy in the routine of hitting golf balls. Topper and Kelce joined him, bantering about their day and cracking jokes as they took turns at the driving range. The rhythmic thud of the golf balls echoed in the air, providing a temporary distraction for Rafe's restless mind.

Suddenly, Topper spoke up, snapping Rafe out of his focus on his swing, "No shit. Looks like Maybank is tagging in for your girl's job today."

Rafe looked up, somewhat surprised by the mention of your name. "Yeah, apparently," he replied, trying to sound nonchalant despite the mix of emotions swirling within him. "She's probably taking some time off or something." The casual tone of his voice masked the turmoil he felt at the thought of you needing time away, especially after the events that transpired.

Topper chuckled, nudging Rafe with his elbow. "Guess you'll be seeing a lot more of her then, huh? Playing the knight in shining armor while she's on the mend?"

Rafe tried to shrug it off, taking another swing at the golf ball. "Just covering a shift, man. No big deal."

Kelce joined in, smirking. "Sure, Rafe, just a shift. We all know how protective you get when it comes to her."

Rafe's jaw tightened, a mix of irritation and guilt coursing through him. He tried to maintain his composure, hiding the internal struggle he was facing.

"Yeah, whatever," Rafe replied with a dismissive tone, forcing a nonchalant smirk. Despite his attempts to act unfazed, the mention of you stirred a swirl of conflicting emotions within him.

As they continued hitting balls, Rafe couldn't shake off the thought of you. He wondered what you were doing, how you were feeling. The weight of guilt lingered as he tried to focus on the golf game, his mind drifting back to the events that led to your hospitalization.

Topper chuckled, glancing at Rafe. "Maybe we should call over your new replacement. What do you think, Rafe?" he teased.

Rafe's grip on the golf club tightened, his jaw clenching for a moment. He shot a glare at Topper, his attempt at maintaining composure waning. "Shut up, Topper. Just focus on your swing."

Topper smirked, nudging Rafe with his elbow. "Come on, man. Let's call over the 'new bev cart girl' and see how well he handles the job."

Rafe shot Topper a sharp look, irritation evident in his eyes. "Leave it, Topper."

Kelce, sensing the tension, chimed in, "Alright, alright, no need to get all worked up."

Topper couldn't resist pushing further, calling out to JJ in a mocking tone, "Hey, Maybank! We heard you're taking over Y/N's job today. Guess you'll be delivering drinks and flirting with the kooks too."

JJ, annoyed by the insinuation, rolled his eyes and approached the group. "Give it a rest, Topper. Just trying to cover Y/N's shifts while she's recovering."

Topper chuckled, making a snarky comment, "Recovering, huh? Must've been a wild night for you two."

JJ's jaw tensed, his eyes narrowing at Topper. "Mind your own damn business, Topper. Y/N and I are just friends."

"Friends who share a lot of secrets, I bet," Topper teased, clearly enjoying getting under JJ's skin.

JJ couldn't hold back his irritation any longer. "You know, Topper, maybe if you focused on your swing as much as you focus on everyone else's business, you'd actually improve."

Rafe chuckled at JJ's retort, finding some amusement in the banter. The tension between them remained, but for now, the golf course banter served as a distraction from the more complicated emotions lingering beneath the surface.

Kelce stepped forward, shooting a warning look at Topper. "Dude, chill. Back off a bit."

JJ chuckled, enjoying the humor of the situation. He waved off the situation, deciding it was better to walk away than engage further. As he strolled away from the group, he couldn't help but notice the lingering tension, especially from Rafe.

As JJ walked away, the golf course seemed to echo with the tension between Rafe, Topper, and Kelce. Rafe's gaze lingered on JJ's retreating figure, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. The crisp sound of golf balls hitting the grass around them served as a stark contrast to the simmering emotions among the group.

Topper wore a mischievous grin, clearly reveling in the opportunity to stir the pot. He leaned in, taunting Rafe with remarks about JJ and you, trying to get a rise out of him. Kelce, sensing the tension, urged Topper to back off, but the damage was done.

Rafe's clenched fists betrayed the storm of jealousy raging inside him. The idea of someone else taking care of you when he believed it should have been him was a bitter pill to swallow. The golf course, once a place of leisure, now became a battleground for unresolved emotions and unspoken desires.

Rafe's temper boiled over like an erupting volcano. He flung his golf club with unrestrained force, the metal clattering as it hit the ground. In that explosive moment, his frustration and jealousy manifested in that single, violent action. Without a word, he stormed off the course, his steps heavy and purposeful, leaving behind a stunned Topper and Kelce.

The intensity of his reaction lingered in the air, a palpable tension that echoed through the golf course. Rafe's car door slammed shut, a resounding punctuation mark to the scene he left behind. The once serene atmosphere of the golf course now carried the weight of unspoken emotions and the consequences of a jealousy-fueled outburst.

"Fuck!" Rafe's voice exploded in a torrent of frustration as he hurled his golf club away, the metallic clatter blending with the ambient sounds of the golf course. In a seething rage, he stormed off the course, each step a declaration of his boiling anger. Reaching his car, he slammed the door shut and unleashed another curse, pounding his fist against the steering wheel. "Damn it!"

The air in the car became thick with tension as Rafe's frustration reached its peak. His knuckles turned white as he clenched the steering wheel, the metal groaning under the force of his grip. His breaths were heavy, each exhale carrying a hint of desperation and torment. The dimly lit interior of the car bore witness to the storm raging within him, the dashboard reflecting the twisted expressions that crossed his face – a turbulent sea of regret, jealousy, and self-loathing. In that moment, the weight of his actions pressed down on him like an unbearable burden, and tears streamed down his face, marking the depth of his turmoil.

The sounds of Rafe's anguished sobs reverberated through the confined space of the car, echoing the depths of his despair. His shoulders shook with the weight of his emotions as he laid his head on the steering wheel, seeking solace in the cold touch of the metal. Each sob was a painful admission of the havoc he had wreaked on his own life, a symphony of regret and sorrow that painted the interior of the car in the hues of his torment. The glow of the dashboard served as a silent witness to the unraveling of a soul burdened by its own choices, a heartbreaking melody played out in the confined solitude of the vehicle.

As Rafe's sobs subsided, leaving an eerie stillness in the air, he wiped away the remnants of his tears and took a deep breath. The realization of the damage he had inflicted upon his own life hung heavily in the air. Gathering his composure, he straightened up in the driver's seat, his face a canvas of emotional turmoil.

-

Later that night, at the chateau, you found solace in the comfort of your room, immersed in the chaotic world of Jersey Shore on your screen. The dim glow of the television cast a soft ambiance, providing a temporary escape from the recent tumultuous events. The familiar banter and antics of the reality TV cast served as a momentary distraction, allowing you to detach from the complications of your own reality. The room echoed with the scripted drama of the show, a stark contrast to the unscripted chaos that had unfolded in your life.

As the characters on the screen navigated their tumultuous relationships, you found a strange comfort in their exaggerated drama, the absurdity of their situations a welcome distraction. The rhythmic crunching of Cheez-Its provided a simple, satisfying soundtrack to the unfolding chaos on the television.

Wrapped in a cozy blanket, you allowed yourself to get lost in the antics of Snooki and the gang, temporarily forgetting the complexities awaiting you outside the fictional realm. The glow of the TV bathed the room in a warm, artificial light, creating a cocoon of familiarity and routine amid the recent upheaval.

Lost in the mindless entertainment, you relished this respite from the storm that had swept through your life, if only for a brief moment. The cheery, mindless laughter from the show mingled with the occasional rustle of the snack bag, forming a soothing backdrop to your solitary night of escapism.

The sudden buzz of your phone disrupted the faux-reality unfolding on the TV screen. You retrieved the device, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw Rafe's name illuminated on the display. Uncertainty and a tinge of nervousness swept over you as you contemplated answering or letting it go to voicemail.

A million thoughts raced through your mind – the recent events, the hurtful incident, and the unresolved emotions that lingered in the air. You hesitated for a moment, the allure of a potential conversation with Rafe conflicting with the fear of reopening wounds. The room, once a haven of mindless entertainment, now felt charged with anticipation.

With a deep breath, you decided to answer, your thumb sliding across the screen to accept the call. The line connected, and you braced yourself for the unknown, unsure of what awaited you on the other end of the conversation.

"Hey," you greeted Rafe, your voice carrying a mix of hesitation and confusion.

"Y/N," Rafe's voice slurred on the other end, accompanied by the faint sounds of background chaos. The shakiness in his tone hinted at a state of inebriation, leaving you with a mixture of concern and discomfort. The unexpected turn of events added another layer of uncertainty to an already complex situation.

"What's going on?" you asked cautiously, your mind trying to decipher the situation through the limited cues in his voice.

"I messed up," Rafe admitted, his words heavy with regret. The disjointed nature of his speech suggested a lack of coherence, and you couldn't help but wonder how deeply his actions had affected him.

"I fucking miss you, Y/N," Rafe confessed, his words laced with a raw emotion that transcended the haze of his intoxicated state. As the sincerity in his voice resonated through the phone, you couldn't ignore the impact his admission had on you.

There was a momentary silence, only broken by the distant sounds of the party or gathering Rafe seemed to be in. It was a stark contrast to the weight of his words, creating a surreal atmosphere.

Rafe continued, his voice softer, "I messed up, and I… I just needed to hear your voice."

You could hear the vulnerability in his tone, and it stirred conflicting emotions within you. Despite the hurt he caused, the sincerity in his words touched a chord.

"Rafe, where are you? Are you okay?" Concern laced your voice, and you couldn't help but feel a mixture of worry and empathy for him.

Rafe took a moment before responding, the background noise suggesting he was in a lively and chaotic environment. "I'm at this stupid fucking party," he muttered, the disdain evident in his words. "I need you, y/n. It's killing me that I can't touch you or even see your face."

As he spoke, you couldn't ignore the tug of conflicting emotions within you. While his vulnerability struck a chord, the memories of the recent events and the pain he caused were still fresh in your mind.

"Rafe…" Your voice softened, a mixture of sympathy and caution evident as you spoke his name.

He interrupted you, the alcohol evident in his slurred speech. "Look, I-I know I fucked up. Big time. I don't know what to do." There was a rawness in his voice, a stark contrast to his usual confident demeanor.

A heavy sigh escaped you as you processed his words. Despite the hurt he caused, you couldn't completely shut off the empathy you felt for someone clearly struggling. "Rafe, maybe you should go home and sleep it off. We can talk tomorrow when you're in a better state."

Rafe's response was a defeated murmur. "I just… I miss you so damn much."

The weight of his words hung in the air, leaving you torn between compassion and self-preservation.

Reluctantly, you agreed, deciding that making sure Rafe was safe took precedence over your own discomfort. "Okay, fine. Just… send me the address of where you are."

Rafe clumsily managed to type out the address in his inebriated state. As you received the message, you couldn't help but shake your head, a mix of frustration and concern settling in. After a moment's hesitation, you texted back, "Stay put. I'll be there soon."

Turning off the TV, you quickly changed into something more presentable, preparing yourself for a night that seemed to be taking unexpected turns.

Your footsteps echoed in the quiet night as you hurriedly made your way to the car. The cool evening air did little to ease the tension that wrapped around you. As you drove to the address Rafe had sent, a myriad of thoughts raced through your mind. The uncertainty of what you were about to walk into gnawed at you, but concern for Rafe propelled you forward.

The drive seemed to stretch on longer than usual, each passing streetlight casting shadows that mirrored the anxiety building within you. You arrived at the destination, a dimly lit area that seemed to amplify the weight of the situation. Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself for whatever lay ahead and stepped out of the car, determined to face the tumultuous night with Rafe.

The chaotic scene unfolded before you as you navigated through the rowdy crowd of inebriated teenagers. Their laughter and cheers mingled with the distant music, creating a dissonant backdrop to your urgent calls for Rafe. You scanned the front yard, searching for any sign of him, but the chaos made it challenging to discern individual faces.

The flickering glow of party lights illuminated the scene, casting an eerie ambiance on the gathering. Despite the lively atmosphere, an unsettling tension lingered in the air. Your calls for Rafe went unanswered, drowned out by the revelry around you. Determined, you pushed through the crowd, determined to find him and ensure he was safe amidst the chaos.

Your determination carried you through the dense crowd inside the house, the pulse of the music and the chatter of partygoers reverberating through the walls. As you pushed your way towards the living room, the energy of the crowd seemed to intensify. You soon reached the epicenter of attention, discovering a swirling mass of people encircling a couch and a coffee table.

A mixture of curiosity and anxiety fueled your movements as you elbowed your way to the front of the crowd, desperately trying to catch a glimpse of what was happening. The chaotic scene unfolded before your eyes, revealing a tableau of excess and debauchery. As the sea of bodies parted, you finally saw Rafe in the midst of it all, his eyes glassy and his demeanor far from composed. The weight of the situation settled heavily on your shoulders, and you knew that this night held unforeseen challenges.

A mix of shock, concern, and disappointment washed over you as you observed the scene unfolding before you. The group of girls surrounding Rafe seemed to revel in the chaos, cheering him on with enthusiasm that only fueled the reckless atmosphere. The sight of Rafe snorting a line of coke, his head tilting back as he inhaled the substance, left a bitter taste in your mouth.

As the crowd continued to revel in the spectacle, you felt a growing sense of urgency. The reality of Rafe's actions hit you, and you knew you couldn't stand idly by. Determination fueled your steps as you pushed through the onlookers, your focus solely on reaching Rafe and addressing the concerning situation at hand.

"Rafe? What the fuck is this?" Your voice cut through the chaos as you confronted Rafe, the intensity of the situation reflected in your expression. The cheers and laughter around you faded into the background as you locked eyes with him, demanding an explanation for the reckless scene playing out before you.

Rafe, seemingly caught off guard, looked up from the table, his eyes meeting yours. There was a moment of hesitation in his gaze, a mix of guilt and surprise. The atmosphere in the room shifted, tension hanging thick in the air as you awaited his response.

"Y/N," Rafe mumbled, his voice laced with a mixture of regret and the effects of the substances he had just taken. He absentmindedly wiped his nose, a visible sign of his actions.

The room fell into a momentary silence, broken only by the distant sounds of the party continuing in the background. Your eyes remained fixed on him, waiting for an explanation or any sign of recognition. The gravity of the situation sank in, and a mix of emotions swirled within you—anger, disappointment, and a twinge of concern for someone you once cared about deeply.

"Rafey, who is this?" One of the inebriated girls besides Rafe chimed in, much to your dismay.

Ignoring the girl, you locked eyes with Rafe, your expression a mix of confusion and frustration. "What the hell is going on, Rafe?"

He struggled to focus, his gaze flickering between you and the party unfolding around him. "I just wanted to forget, y/n. Forget everything," he slurred, the weight of his words punctuated by the chaos of the party.

The room continued to buzz with energy as the partygoers paid little attention to the unfolding drama. The atmosphere was tense, and you felt a whirlwind of emotions coursing through you.

"C'mon Rafe, we're leaving." You grabbed Rafe's arm, pulling him away from the crowd. The girls protested, but you ignored them, determined to get him out of this chaotic scene. Rafe stumbled as he followed you, his movements unsteady.

As you made your way through the crowded house, you couldn't help but feel a mix of disappointment and concern. You guided Rafe towards the door, eager to remove him from the toxic environment. The night had taken an unexpected turn, and you were left grappling with the reality of the situation.

Rafe ended up following you out to your car, stumbling as he tried to keep up with you. You opened the passenger door in an attempt to help him in, but before you could be successful with doing so, he stopped you.

"Y/N, wait," Rafe called out, his voice wavering.

You turned to look at him, your hand still on the car door, waiting for an explanation.

Rafe took a deep breath, his eyes filled with remorse. "I fucking miss you, and I hate knowing fucking JJ is the one who is taking care of you when it should be me," he admitted, his words hanging heavy in the air.

"I can't, Y/N," Rafe said, stopping you from closing the car door. His eyes were pleading, and his voice trembled with vulnerability. "I can't take care of you like he can. I messed everything up, and I don't deserve you."

You sighed, torn between frustration and concern. "Rafe, just get in the car. We can talk about this later," you urged, wanting to address the situation at hand first.

Rafe took a step back, rubbing his temples as if trying to push away a headache. "I messed up, Y/N. I messed up everything," he admitted, his voice strained. "I thought I could protect you and fix things, but I only made them worse. I can't compete with JJ. He's been there for you, taking care of you, and I… I just have to watch from afar."

You looked at him, seeing the pain in his eyes. Despite the turmoil of the situation, a part of you couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

"Rafe, please," you pleaded, your voice a hushed whisper, "not here. Let's get you home, and we can talk about it later."

He nodded, still looking disoriented, and you managed to guide him into the car. The girls who had gathered around seemed disappointed, but you ignored their judgmental stares. You closed the car door, and as you got behind the wheel, you couldn't shake the feeling that things had taken a turn for the worse.

As you drove Rafe home, he sat silently in the passenger seat, occasionally letting out a quiet apology. The atmosphere in the car was heavy with tension, and you couldn't shake off the worry that had settled in your chest. The Rafe you knew was put-together and conscious of his image, replaced by this version consumed by substances and self-destruction. You kept stealing glances at him, the apology in his eyes mirroring the internal turmoil within you.

You arrived at the Cameron's home, the emptiness of the house mirroring the void you felt within yourself. Assisting Rafe out of the car, you couldn't shake the worry and frustration that had taken root in your mind. The place felt desolate, echoing the emptiness of the situation between you and Rafe. You had Rafe's arm draped over your shoulder, his incoherent murmurs echoing in the silent house. Each step felt like a heavy burden, a somber atmosphere surrounding you as you helped him inside.

"Alright Rafe, you're gonna have to help me get you up the stairs," You struggled to support Rafe's weight as you reached the foot of the staircase. His movements were sluggish, and you knew you needed his cooperation to navigate the stairs safely.

"Y/n," Rafe groaned, stumbling up the stairs, "you've ruined me."

You rolled your eyes, a mixture of annoyance and concern etching your expression. Guiding him up the stairs, you replied, "You've done a pretty good job of that yourself, Rafe."

Rafe's words slurred as he leaned against the wall, struggling to maintain his balance. "N-No, it's killing me without you here," he mumbled, his eyes glazed and unfocused.

You sighed, realizing the gravity of the situation. "Rafe, let's get you to bed. We can talk about everything tomorrow when you're sober."

With effort, you managed to guide him to his room. He collapsed onto the bed, his eyes heavy with intoxication. As you turned to leave, he weakly grabbed your hand.

"Don't leave, Y/n," he pleaded, his vulnerability piercing through the haze of substances.

You hesitated, torn between sympathy and frustration. "Rafe, you need to rest. We'll talk in the morning."

"Y/n, please stay," Rafe pleaded, his eyes filled with desperation. "I can't handle being alone right now. I need you."

You sighed, torn between your concern for him and the boundaries you had set. The night had taken unexpected turns, and you found yourself grappling with the aftermath of Rafe's emotional outburst.

"I'll stay for a little while," you relented, pulling a chair closer to his bed. "But we need to talk about everything, Rafe. Tomorrow, when you're sober."

He nodded, a mix of gratitude and sadness in his eyes as you settled in to keep watch over him through the night. "Will you at least lay with me?"

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of the implications, but eventually, you sighed and joined Rafe on the bed. He rested his head on your stomach, and you gently ran your fingers through his hair. The room was filled with a heavy silence, interrupted only by Rafe's soft breathing.

As you lay there, you couldn't help but reflect on the events of the day. The unexpected twists and turns had left you emotionally drained. The boundaries you had carefully set seemed to blur in the face of Rafe's vulnerability.

You decided that tomorrow would bring clarity, a chance to address the issues that had surfaced. For now, you focused on providing some comfort to Rafe, hoping that the morning light would bring a clearer perspective on the tangled emotions surrounding you both.

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