#but you could tell most of what would happen

[dark-night-hero]

Imagine being Sylus' non-mc significant other. part 2

Imagine Sylus had always been good at slipping into roles. A lover, a liar, a partner, a predator. Not because it was his nature but because that is how he survived. How he navigated a world full of ghosts and guns where names changed with the wind and loyalties died in the dark.

so Imagine when the mission called for him to play the doting boyfriend to MC, he did it without hesitation. Business was business. And nothing more. But you, you were never part of the plan.

Imagine you were something he never expected to find in the wreckage of his life. The softness he did not think he deserved. The quiet safety in a world too loud. With you, he wasn't a weapon, he wasn't a monster. He was just Sylus. Your Sylus. And that terrified him.

Imagine the way he knew what it looked like. The missed calls, the half truths, the bruises he wore like secrets. He watched you swallow your suspicion with grace, letting trust carry the weight of all the things he could not say. And you, you never asked too much. You never demanded more than what he could give and that made him want to give you everything. But then the mission came.

Imagine, the fake relationship with MC was meant to be a temporary cover. A strategic alliance masked in flirtation and staged intimacy. And he hated every second of it. He hated how close he had to stand. He hated the way MC would linger when the cameras weren't rolling. And what he hated most is the way he saw your silence begin to turn into sorrow.

Imagine he noticed everything. The way you started to flinch at the word "work." The way your smile faltered when he came home smelling like someone else's perfume. He noticed and it broke him because he couldn't tell you. Not yet. Not when the stakes were this high.

Imagine he never touched her like he touched you. He never whispered her name like a prayer. Never let her see the parts of him that he bled out in your hands. The vulnerable pieces you pieced back together night after night. MC was the mission. You were the reason he came back.

Imagine the night you asked about her and the way your voice cracked. That sound, that single, fractured breath did more damage than any bullet ever had. He looked at you and saw everything he stood to lose. Not because you doubted him but because he knew you had every right to.

Imagine he let it happen. He let it happen because he thought he was protecting you by keeping the truth buried beneath duty. But secrets rot. Even the ones told with good intentions. And you were starting to wither away from him.

"It's not what you think." He said but you already heard the guilt even before he felt it. Not guilt for what he did. But the guilt for the pain his silence caused you.

Imagine the way your silence answered. You did not scream. You didn't even cry. You just looked at him. You looked at him like you'd been bracing for this all along. And that killed something inside him.

Imagine in that moment, he realized something that made him feel like a sword pierced through his chest. You thought he loved her. You thought you were being replaced. You thought you were disposable. He made you feel that way.

Imagine that night, He stayed the night because he couldn't stand the idea of you being alone with that lie. Yet you did not touch him. You didn’t speak. You just curled into yourself like a wound trying to heal without being treated. And he lay down beside you. Not as a lover, not as a man but as the ghost of everything he ruined. Listening to the way your heartbeat refused to sync with his.

Imagine as dawn bleed into the room like a slow confession. He when and left with your back was still to him.You were quiet. The kind of quiet that used to mean peace, now it meant distance. The kind of quiet that he already knew he had lost you and you were just too kind to say it.

Imagine you were the kind of wound that he wanted to keep. The one that proved him that he could still feel something. And he would give anything to unlearn how it felt to wake up beside you knowing he didn’t deserve it.

Imagine he would give everything to go back to the moment you said his name like it was still a prayer and not a question. Because Sylus never loved her. He only loves you. And now he destroyed the only truth he ever had.

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2025°

[darkbluekies]

Edmund coming home to a darling who keeps having "nightmares" but one day he sees a bruise and finds out the maids have been hurting her, causing her to cry

"Name"

Yandere!king oc x fem!reader

Summary: Edmund realises that the maids have been bullying you behind his back ... and he's furious.

Warnings: bruises, bullying, threats of harm and murder, jealousy, darling feels responsible/guilty for their deaths, guilt, mention of murder, possessiveness

Word count: 1.8k

He’s had to work night multiple weeks in a row, leaving you alone in the bed chamber for hours before he joins you, often in the transition between night and the cold hours of the morning. It had been fine in the beginning. Dare you admit you even found it a bit therapeutic? Being alone for once, without him, where else he’s breathing down your neck like some kind of puppy. 

But then it had shifted. The maids who usually patrolled the corridors started sneaking in when it was clear that Edmund wouldn’t come. At first they talked to you about mindless things that seemed harmless, but you could feel something in the air. That feeling, the one where you know the second you part ways, they’ll start talking. Laughing. Mocking. They always asked you about your background, made comments about your clothes and jewelry. Never any direct critiques, but not any compliments either. A grey zone that made your stomach uneasy.

The talking didn’t last long. In a matter of a few days, it shifted. Evolved to something worse. Darker. They have started to mock you to your face when no one else hears, and hit you when you cry. You don’t dare say anything back, just take it … knowing very well what will happen with them if Edmund gets to hear you shout. So every night you bite your lips shut and take it. 

A part of you screams that you should tell Edmund. Let them die, let them see you’re not someone one can mess with and get away with … if only if it wasn’t for the fact that they will die. Edmund’s not a half-assed guy. His love is never a “I would kill for you”-mantra. He has, and will undoubtedly, kill for you again. Over and over. He’d kill anyone you point at, if you wanted to. And oh, how it makes you feel dirty. You’re not the one pulling the trigger or swinging the sword, but you’re the commander. The reason why. In some capacity, you would be a murderer. 

It doesn’t matter how much you hate these women. Death—murder—is never a justified punishment. Not for jealousy. They deserve to be removed and possibly punished, but not killed. Never killed. Their deaths will wreck the lives of innocents who have nothing to do with their behaviour. And you will be blamed. 

You look down at your arms. The darkness hides the marks, but you feel them like bleeding, salt infected wounds. Edmund hasn't noticed. When he comes to bed it's dark enough to hide them. In daylight they're hidden under your extravagant dresses, thanks to Edmund's modesty rules. 

Maybe you want him to notice. Maybe you want a reason to tell, to get comforted and reassured that their words aren't true. To have someone on your side. Maybe you want him to never find them. 

You sob, pulling the covers closer to your body. They've left for the night. You should lay down and try to sleep, or at least pretend to. But you're unable to. Your body refuses to move from its sitting position. If you lay down and they come back you're powerless. Three against one. One laying down. Easy to overpower.

You're not sure what you're most scared of them doing to you. Cut your hair to the scalp? Touch your features and make you unrecognizable? Too ugly to be attractive to him? They've threatened it one time— “what if we just decide to break your nose? Your jaw? Who'll love you then, your majesty? You'll be thrown to the slums, like everyone else. You're not untouchable just because he finds you pretty. That ‘prettiness’ can easily be taken from you.”

Or are you more afraid of them killing you? They've gotten worse over the days. A quick slippery slope down to madness wouldn't be impossible. They could easily pin you down and slit your throat, stab you.

You’re too in your own head to hear the door opening. 

“You’re still awake?” 

Edmund’s voice rips you out of your thoughts. You gasp, breath getting caught in your throat. Your hands are about to move up to your cheeks to wipe your tears, but you know he’ll catch that. Instead you turn your head away slightly, hoping the darkness will hide the tears streaks. His footsteps seem to echo behind him. 

“My jewel, you’re supposed to be asleep by now”, Edmund says and you feel the bed shift as he sits down. “Having trouble sleeping?”

You nod without looking at him. It has the opposite effect you wish for. 

“Why aren’t you looking at me?” 

His fingers touch your cheek, turning your head to him. You’re unable to stop it. You meet his eyes, those ice blue ones that seem to glow in the dark, and feel yourself crumble under his gaze. Your eyes fill, once again, with new tears. Edmund’s jaw clenches and he quickly moves closer. 

“What is it?” he asks, voice tight. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

You shake your head, lowering your chin. Edmund’s eyes start to wander, desperately looking for clues. His eyes stop at a particularly dark spot on your shoulder, just below the neck line of the flowy night gown. His fingertips touch it gently, as if trying to see if it’s real, and you flinch away before you can react. 

“Y/N …”, Edmund breathes out. “What the hell? Don’t tell me that’s what I think it is.”

When you don’t answer, he shifts closer. Close enough for you to feel his breath on your skin as he brings a small, electrical lamp close enough to see the bruise clearer. There’s only a word leaving his throat, but it is enough. “Name.”

“No.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“It won’t solve it.”

“It will. It’ll stop them from hurting what’s mine. Give me the name.”

You turn your head down, looking at your hands trembling in your lap. 

“It’s not ‘the’ name—”

“There’s more?” His voice has a sharper edge. “Okay then, give me their names.”

“I don’t want blood on my hands.”

“There won’t be any blood on your hands. Only mine. No one else is allowed to touch you. Nothing else, is allowed to. And if you don’t tell me who gave you these ugly marks I will hunt them down, and I’m sure a few innocent will be struck that way. Give me the cowards names. Do you think a king will let his queen be hurt by unworthy?”

You don’t answer. The sobs come back, rippling through you. You’re on the edge now, so close to ending someone’s life. You have the gun in your hand and all you need is to pull the trigger … or put it down. But if you put it down, he’ll pick it up and shoot without hesitation. As long as you hold the gun … nothing happens.  

“Gosh, these marks makes me nauseous”, Edmund gags as he holds your arm in his hands. He has pulled up the sleeve to get a good look at them. “So brutal.”

“Please don’t look.”

“Tell me their names. My pretty jewel, tell me their names. Please, Y/N. Tell me who did it.”

You shake your head again, sobbing. Edmund sighs heavily. 

“Can you at least tell me how long it’s been going on?” he asks, and you can hear the frustration in his voice, even if half of it is pure worry. 

“Since you started working night”, you mumble, hiccuping through sobs. 

“Since I started work— … you have to be kidding me?”

You shake your head. Edmund bites back a scream and looks around, as if trying to find something to ground himself on.

“So, people have been coming in here when you’re alone and hurt you?” he asks, voice shaking. “And you’ve been silent about it? It’s been two weeks. Why haven’t you said anything?!”

“Because I’m scared, Edmund …”

His eyes immediately soften. Not to a gentle one, but one that isn’t piercing. He pulls you closer, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. 

“Y/N, darling”, he says with his trembling voice. “I’m the king. I am the highest power in this kingdom, yeah? You are my wife, correct? You are the safest person in this country. But I can’t help you if you refuse to tell me when someone is hurting you.”

“You will kill them.”

“Damn right I will. That’s what happens when people think they can touch what’s mine. Touching you is a war crime and I will not let them get away with it.”

He cups your wet cheek, turning you to him. 

“Who hurt my pretty girl?” he whispers sorrowfully. 

Your finger trembles on the imaginary trigger. And, before you can register it, you press. 

His face lights up—not in a happy way, but relief. He’s about to fly up form the bed, but you grab his arm. 

“No, no, Edmund please!” you plead, voice breaking with sobs. “Don’t leave me!”

“I will get those bitches for this”, he tells you, his voice now a venomous deadly calm. “I will snap their necks myself.”

“No … no please, don’t go.”

You hug his arm, pleading over and over again. Edmund seems torn between revenge and protection, but in the end he gives in and climbs back into the bed, pulling you flush against him. 

“Fine”, he gives in, squeezing your trembling form. “I will let them have their final night … but tomorrow they’ll get what they deserve. For now I’ll take care of my beautiful queen.”

He kisses the top of your head. 

“I will never let those creatures near you again", he promises, showering your face in kisses. Too soft for his usual behaviour. “They don’t deserve to touch you. Only I am. I am the only one worthy enough to touch you. To kiss you. To hold you. To be near you. To see you. Tell me what they did to you.”

So you do. His grip on you tightens for everything you tell him, but his lips never leave your skin. They burn. 

“I’ll enjoy tomorrow morning”, he decides, moving even closer to you, snuggling. “I’ll kill them slowly—well, if you can snap someone’s neck slow—and enjoy every bit of it.”

He holds you close, running his fingers through your hair. You feel his cold, golden rings against your scalp. Your face is tucked beneath his chin, against the warmth of his neck. It’s as if he wants to pull you into him, become one with him. As if you’re only safe if you’re beneath his skin. 

“You’re so soft in my arms”, he whispers. “Really soft. Only mine.”

He hums and rests his cheek against your hair, falling asleep. But you? You won’t sleep for a long time. Relieved that you no longe have to carry it yourself … guilty that you’ve pulled the trigger. But you wouldn’t have won anyway. He always does. He always gets what he wants in the end … and this time, it’s to protect you. 

[catiuskaa]

head touches pillow.

sum: after a long day without you, finally able to cuddle against you, when his head touches the pillow, Hyunjin can’t help but dream.

wc: 5.1k

cw: dreams and art and philosophy coded fluff, hyunjin talks (in detail) about a sex dream, handjob, blowjob(?), aftercare.

[★★{📕}★★]

Hyunjin is a dreamer.

A dreamer is a curious creature whose head often floats several inches —or miles— above the ground, tethered to reality only by the occasional text message, meal, or heartbreak. They are powered by equal parts hope, caffeine —chocolate, in this writer’s case—, and the kind of delusion that dares to believe love letters still are a thing, that strangers on trains might be soulmates, and that rainstorms were invented for dramatic monologues, and really, really wet kisses.

Hyunjin blames his imaginative mind for all the late assignments, failed exams and dull evenings he’s had. If it weren’t for his active little mind, in a constant need for dopamine and books that can make one curl in bed, kicking their legs as they giggle and read about romance they can only hope they get to live, maybe he would’ve payed more attention —on a general sense, that is. And on a particular one, maybe then he wouldn’t have lost the bus that day.

But that would mean he wouldn’t have met you.

When a dreamer falls for another dreamer, the universe experiences a brief but noticeable glitch—somewhere, a clock forgets how to tick, a soldier writes poetry, and a star goes slightly off course just to watch what happens next.

“Oh, Larry won’t open the door for you, so I wouldn’t run,” you chuckle. “Mean bus driver, the fella.”

And Hyunjin just blinks, watching the red bus turn smaller as it drives away.

Turning to face you, he swears, changed his brain chemistry. Not that he knows much about brains nor chemistry, but somehow, when his eyes meet yours for the first time, it was as if the air paused mid-breath, unsure whether to exhale or hold onto the moment forever. There was no thunderclap, no dramatic swell of music —just a quiet, electric recognition, like two secret worlds brushing against each other at the edges. In that glance, he saw not just a face, but an entire cosmos made out of late-night musings, unfinished poems, and stardust tucked behind eyelashes, shining in the colour of your eyes. 

It wasn’t love at first sight, not exactly —it was possibility at first glance.

He doesn’t believe it happens often. When an artist such as him —or that’s how he enjoys calling himself when the blinds are down and no one’s looking— somehow falls in love, it’s like those magical moments that movies can’t help but mention. Finding a muse —to him, only you— is the one thing artists hope for in secret, hiding the fire in their hearts between layers of paint and crumbled ink-stained pieces of paper, hoping to never mix love and whorship in the same person, for one cannot hug someone that stands so far away on a pedestal.

Still, he yearns for the words a writer may reach to in order to make sense to the myriad of feelings that simmer in his paint-soaked heart, unable to express them in a way that could suffice.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Hyunjin blinks, lowering his head to face you. He can’t help but smile, his eyes wrinkling at the sides.

“You’d lose all your money, my pearl. I think too much.”

Cuddling more against him as you giggle soothes within the both of you the tension from a long week, days that have passed by without the joy of seeing each other most of the time. But alas, here’s the sweet sweet joy of a long-awaited Friday night.

“C’mon,” you snicker, your hands tracing mindless paterns on his shirtless torso. You make a note to thank the summer weather for that. “Oh, at least tell me about that dream you had a couple nights ago.”

“A… dream?” He frowns in ginger confusion.

“Yeah, remember? I called you… Tuesday morning. You said you had a dream you wanted to tell me,” you grin, resting your chin on his chest.

"Oh, that dream,” his expression turns a little more mischievous. His smile only grows as he watches your expectant eyes. “Fun dream, that was. I remember it alright," he snickers, his tone a little husky. "Every single detail."

You give him a cheeky look, fixing your position to lay down next to him, your head up to face him, resting on your palm. 

“Go on. I’m all ears.”

He can’t help but chuckle, his expression playful. "Oh, are you now?" he teases, his tone low. "You want to hear all the dirty little details?"

“You know I do,” you grin, your other hand cheekily fidgeting with his golden chain.

He takes a deep breath, and he can’t help but lick his lips as he remembers the dream in detail. "So, it was just the two of us," he starts, his voice lower than usual, his gaze flickering over your features. "And we were... well, let's say we were in a bed."

“What do you mean, let’s say?” You grin softly. “Where were we?”

He chuckles, a small, charming smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "I don’t really know. I mean… well... you were on top of me, to be specific," his gaze turning a little bit heated. "And I could feel your skin against mine, your hands resting on my chest. And your face was... so close, I could feel your breath on my skin." Pausing, his voice grows huskier. "You looked into my eyes... it was like you were hungry for me."

As your hand couldn’t help but follow a slow path down his chest, your eyes stayed locked to his. There was something dangerously poetic about them, like they’ve been dipped in paint and secrets, and looking into them feels less like making eye contact and more like falling, headfirst, —heart-first—, into a storm you don’t want to escape. He didn’t just look at you—he unravels you. With one glance, he strips away your composure, peels back every practiced word, and leaves you lying there, entirely too aware of how close his mouth is to yours. It almost isn’t fair, the way his gaze lingers—slow, deliberate, like a hand sliding over bare skin —your nails, long, leaving cheeky red streaks over his abs. You could drown in him. You want to. God help you, you want to forget your own name if it mean he’d keep looking at you like that—like you were something he’d dreamt of touching —not just this once, but for lifetimes—, and now that you are here, he has no intention of looking away.

"You leaned in even closer,” he lets out in a short breath, “your lips… against my skin,” he swallows, dry. “I could feel… the heat radiating off your body and... I felt your words as a soft whisper against my ear," he murmured, eyes dark. "You said..." his eyes lock onto yours. "You said, ‘I want you. Now.’” he mumbles, his tone intense.

You licked your lips. God, you could eat him alive. “Then what happened?”

"You started… trailing your lips down my neck, leaving soft, wet kisses. It felt... really, really good."

“Mhh, I like the sound of that,” you smile.

He chuckles softly, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Good. It gets better," he simpers, his voice a little deeper than before.

"You then… started making your way down my body, your fingers trailing slowly over my chest, my stomach... and you stopped at my waist and..." he paused, his voice growing quieter as he remembered the rest of the dream.

Your hand started cheekily playing with the waistband of his pijama pants. “And?”

He swallowed dry, his body growing heated as he continues. "And you started... touching me," he lets out, like a  whispered, breathless confession. "Your hands were roaming all over my body, and your touch was soft, but so... possessive." You watch him lick his lips as he stares at you, and it feels like pornography. "Your lips followed your hands. And... you started nibbling on a spot right... here..." he vaguely moves his hand, as if afraid that would crack the heat-tinted atmosphere, and points to a spot just below his collarbone.

Leaning against his neck feels like a meancing act againt his self-restraint, and his heart too. He wants you to do it again. With this newly-found information about himself, Hyunjin can’t wait for you to try and kill him. 

“Oh, this one?” You smirk, stroking it with your nose tantalizingly.

He lets out something quite like gasp, a shaky exhale that sounds like "yeah," he breathes out heavily, his voice tinged with a moan that he’s holding back. He’s already hard. "T-that spot."

Only a fool would miss a chance this exquisit, so you quickly start to work. 

“Keep talking,” you whisper with a smirk.

Hyunjin’s brain threatens to turn off as he closes his eyes, his breathing heavier as you press kisses on his neck. "T-then, um..." he sighs, trying to focus through the sensation of your lips against his skin. "You started... moving lower, your hands and mouth down my chest... and then my stomach..."

He lets out a sigh, his eyes fluttering shut as your hand strokes his abs and your lips leave soft kisses on his neck, dusting his skin with pretty pinky marks. "Mmm, keep doing that," he murmured, his voice a little gruff. "It feels... really, really good."

“Keep talking about the dream, or I’ll stop,” you tease, smirking.

Fuck. Either he’s dreaming again, and today is only Thursday or he’s gotta be the luckiest man on Earth, he thinks, letting out a soft, breathy chuckle —a moan, if you squint your ears—, his eyes opening slightly. "Fine, fine... but keep going," he mumbles weakly, his tone laced with a hint of huskiness. "You were moving lower... and lower... and then... you reached my waist." His throat bobs, and you kiss it. He wants to cry. The thought of you stopping almost makes him, but he keeps talking, just like you asked. "You pulled my pants off, leaving me in my boxers," the dream seems almost tangible in the dark pools of his eyes. He can almost taste it, so he licks his lips again, one of his hand fisting the sheets, the other holding you close by your waist, his fingers quickly settling beneath your shirt where you hope he’ll always stay.

"I remember how… your fingers trailed over my thigh," he murmurs softly. "Gentle, but… firm…”

And so you press wet kisses down his chest, happily following the innocent little words that leave his lips —lips you hadn’t want to kiss this bad since, at least, last Friday, but you refrain just to keep listening to him— until you can reach his thigh with your hand. 

Your eyes move to his. Soft, wide, sly. “Like this?”

Yes. No. He’s going to blow in milliseconds. Scratch all that, you have to be a dream. Reality hasn’t felt this good since someone put butter in popcorn. Since he figured out color theory to some extent. He lets out a soft gasp, his breathing quickening. 

"Yes,” he almost moans, “exactly like that."

His hand grips the bedsheet like the poor thing could ever keep him tethered to how your mouth lingers on his collarbone. If this is a dream and he wakes up, he’s catching the first bus and knocking your door of its hinges with the only objective of doing very bad things to you. But when your kisses slow down in intensity, and your hands threaten to leave his blushed skin, he keeps talking. This is real, and if you stop, he’ll start begging. 

"You started kissing," he pants out, "kissing… down my thigh... and then you… started moving... higher."

He pauses, his breathing growing heavier as the next part of the dream unveils in his mind. Hyunjin needs you to keep touching him. "You were right between my legs, your lips just... barely against my skin,” his eyes flutter open, and he has the cutest blush all over his face. You’re going to eat him.

“T-then you… took me in your mouth," he gasps softly, his eyes closing again. "I remember how your tongue felt, how your lips felt-" He winces, because the memory and your touch alone are making him really hard.

He can’t do this. This feels too good. He’s not going to be able to let you go on Sunday afternoon. But then your hand travels down his chest and beneath his blue-striped pj’s, and he’s dead. 

“Keep talking, love,” you grin, kissing his chest as you start stroking him, moving your hand up and down.

He lets out a low moan, his body involuntarily bucking against your touch. "A-ah... I'm... trying..." he whines quietly, his voice growing huskier by the second. "Y-You were... um-" He trails off, now rendered unable to form a coherent thought, the sensation of your touch scrambling his brain.

"You... you were moving... up and down," Hyunjin tries to speak, but his words are cut off by a moan. His breathing is heavy and his chest rieses and falls rapidly. He can’t even look at you anymore; his eyes are shut tight, his head pressed against the pillow, blushing all over as he squirms underneath you.

"I... I don't...don't know how much...longer I can...can keep doing this," he admits in a low, ragged voice. "I... I need..." he attempts to say something, but the words just don’t come out. "Please, I… I need..." he pleads softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your hand slows down. You have the desperate need to fuck him senseless. Desperate, submissive Hyunjin is a rare sight, and you want to cover him up in pink hickeys. 

“The dream, love. Keep talking, mhh?”

He lets out a low, soft whine as your hand slows down, his eyes clenched shut. "Oh…a-ah, okay," he whispers, trying to regain his composure. The feeling of your touch is driving him crazy, but he knows he has to stay focused, because this feels too good to stop now. 

"You were... you were moving so... so slowly, and... and it was driving me insane." His eyes are like crescent moons, cheeky drops of sweat shining on his forehead, and on his pink-coloured chest. "I... I wanted more... but you were teasing me so much" he murmurs, his voice growing more desperate by the second. "I wanted to... grab you and... and just-" He groans in frustration, unable to find the words. "I wanted... I needed..." he chokes out, whimpering, struggling through the fog of pleasure. "God... it's so hard to think..."

Teasing him comes off naturally. Just looking at him makes you want to lean and bite his cheek. Instead you snicker, smirking. 

“Oh, poor baby. Feel so good, he can’t even think.”

Surely, you weren’t expecting the embarrassingly needy whine he lets out, his face flushed with pleasure. "Y-Yes," he murmurs softly, his arm moving to cover his eyes and how his blush turns deeper in colour, his voice heavy with desire. "A-and... and it's all your fault."

God. Your legs would give out if you were standing. His muscles flex as he tries to hide his face, kind of, and the fact that you know he’s far too gone to be consciously showing off only makes you hornier. Pleasure looks so good on Hyunjin, you can’t help but need more, as you start stroking him slightly faster. “That’s a pity,” you whisper with a smile. “Feels good, yeah?”

He groans, his hips instinctively bucking against your touch. "Y-Yeah," he breathes out weakly, his voice strained. "It feels... so good."

“Wonderful,” you grin, eyes so dark Hyunjin believes they might’ve just turned black. “Keep talking, then, love. What happened next?”

His body dares to tremble with pleasure as you continue, his breathing ragged and uneven. "You..." he trails off, trying to find the words to speak. "You... moved your mo.. a-ah, mouth away... but you... oh, God, y-you replaced it with..." he lets out a moan, his breath hitching as you continue your slow ministrations, “you replaced it with your hand... and..." He swallows hard, trying to find the words through the pleasure, "a-and you were... slow... and gentle..." he manages to speak, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Just like this?” you whisper too.

The feeling of your touch is driving him wild. 

"Yes," he whimpers, almost sheepishly. "Just... just like that."

He’s struggling to keep his mind clear, the pleasure almost overwhelming him. "Please..." he whines, his voice hoarse and needy. "I need... I need..."

Your eyes look into his, but you only find dark tones of brown that scream at you to keep going. “Focus, love,” you smile. “The dream, mhh?”

He struggles to speak, already feeling like it’s hard to think straight. "Y-You... you started to... speed up..." he whispers, his voice raw with desire. "And... and it felt so... so good,” he breathes heavily, “a-and then, you… ” He groans softly, his whole body trembling as he envisions the scene play out in his mind once more. "Y-You... you lowered yourself onto me..." he blinks slowly, his eyes locking onto yours, his voice heavy with lust. "And... and it felt... so good... so perfect..."

He inhales sharply, his heart feeling like it might just leap out of his chest. "You... you started... moving slowly... and... and I-" He lets out a low, guttural moan, his body arching towards your touch instinctively. "God... it feels... so good... so good... I can't think straight... I-I need you... I need you, flower... please…”

You kiss his thigh, to which he lets out a soft moan at the feel of your kiss, his body trembling with need. You’re going to cave, you know you will, but watching him like this is an addiction you don’t want to let go off just yet. “Does the dream keep going too long?”

"N-Not much longer," he sighs weakly, his voice strained with desire. "I am... I w-was so close... I-" He pants, the memory of the dream playing out in his mind. "I was so... I was so close to..." he confesses, his voice thick with lust. "But just before I could... you... you stopped."

And almost cheekily, your hand stopped, teasing. “I… edged you?”

Hyunjin is pretty sure he’s dead at this point. His body trembles, pliant and undone, eyes glassy with surrender as he floats deeper into that delicious haze —where time blurs and sensation reigns. Every word from you felt like silk and command wrapped in fire, and he clings to it like a lifeline, like prayer. His voice is barely a whisper now, rough with need, as he chokes out, "N-no… please, flower." Not out of pride, but desperation —because in this state, he isn’t thinking, only feeling, and everything he feels is you. Every nerve begs to be touched, praised, claimed—each second without your hands, your voice, your rhythm, feels like air slipping through his lungs. He’s gone, truly gone, and the only thing tethering him to reality is the gravity of your control and the aching, raw hunger to please keep going.

You coo at him, leaning against him to kissing his cheek, “You’re doing so good, love. Keep going, for me?” He nods softly, and you smile, softly pressing your lips against his. 

“And then?” You smile, resuming your slow pace with your hand.

His body responds immediately, his back arching as he let out a low moan. "Y-You..." he fails to speak, his words lost in a pool of desire. "You... you kept going... and... and it was so... s’good... but it was... frustrating... to be so... close... but not... not quite there yet..."

His body is shaking with need, his breath coming in short gasps as he struggles to speak. "Please," he begs softly, his voice a mix between a whine and a whisper. "Please... I need you… please… make me-"

Your tongue against his length weakens him in ways he never thought possible before, and when he finds your eyes glued to his, he’s sure his eyes tear up in pleasure. 

“Keep talking, love.”

He lets out a strangled moan. "Oh... oh god..." he moans again, his voice broken by pleasure. "T-too good... I… it's so... hard to... to keep… speaking..."

“C’mon, love,” you smirk. “You want me to keep going, don’t you? You just have to keep talking about the dream.”

He’s wrecked—gasping, trembling, eyes glazed as he blinks down at you like he can’t remember how to exist without your touch. "Yes... yes... please... don't stop..." he mumbles, his voice strained with need. "The dream, I'll... I'll keep talking..."

Hyunjin takes a deep, shaky breath, trying to compose himself as so to keep on talking. "So...  you k-kept going... and... and I was so close... so close... but it wasn't enough..." He sweats and blushes with need, his mind blurry as he struggles to focus on the words. "I was… I couldn't... couldn't handle it any longer...”

His toned body arches against you as he feels himself nearing the edge. "Please... please... I need you, flower... I need you so badly..." he mumbles, his voice barely above a whisper. "Please... please, I can't take it anymore..."

You’re caving. You want to see him come. “How did the dream end, love?”

He lets out a strangled moan as you start kissing him, the touch of your lips sending sparks of pleasure through his body. "I... I don't...I don't remember..." he whines, his voice thick. "It all gets... it gets too hazy... I just remember feeling too... too pent up... too needy..."

“And then you woke up?”

He nods, a low, shaky laugh escaping his lips. "Yeah... I woke up... and I was so... so frustrated," he pants, his voice heavy with the echo of unfulfilled desire.

You blink. The smirk that takes over your lips makes Hyunjin shiver. “Love, did you… relieve yourself… thinking about me that morning?” 

His cheeks grow hotter, his expression turning more sheepish. "Yes... I… I did," he confesses in a hushed tone. "I couldn't help it... you were all I could think about." The memory of that morning is still vivid in his mind. "I was thinking about you... your touch... your voice... your body..." he murmurs, his voice growing huskier with every word.

“And you were touching yourself, just like this?”

He can’t help but moan at your words, his body responding instinctively to the mention of what he has done. He feels like he has been caught, and the way you’re looking at him threatens to send him over the edge. "Yes... just like this..." he nods, gulping. "I was... imagining your hands on me... just like this… and I... I couldn't stop thinking about you... thinking about what you would do to me..." he admits, his voice reeling in desire, almost rolling off his tongue. 

Mesmerized, you speed up, watching him squirm and gasp, his body arching towardsyour touch as the pleasure intensifies. "Oh... oh god... yes, yes..." he moans, his eyes closing tightly as he feels himself getting closer and closer. "Don't…” He groans softly, his hand gripping the bedsheets again. "Please... please, I can't... I can't hold back any longer..." he pleads, his voice sunken in sheer pleasure. 

“Tell me, love. Where you thinking about that when you called me that day?”

He swallows hard, his breath coming in short gasps as he remembered the memory. "Y-Yes," he managed to say, his voice ragged with desire. "I... I couldn't help it... you... your voice… it brought e-everything back... a-and I... I tried to keep my composure... but I couldn't... I couldn't keep it together..."

“What did you want to do to me, mhh?”

His body almost dares to tremble with need as he remembered the thoughts he had. Hyunjin is shaking, flushed and helpless, lost so deep in the haze he barely knows his own name —just yours. His fingers curl like he’s trying to hold onto reality, but all that comes out from his lips isa desperate, wrecked, tone, as he follows your command. "I... I wanted to touch you... to hold you... to feel you against me... to hear you moan..." he whines, his voice rough with need. "I wanted you so badly... so badly, it was driving me insane."

His breathing turns erratic. He’s going to come, but he wants to make you happy. He wants to hear you allow him. 

"I couldn't... couldn't get you out of my head... I just wanted to... to do things to you..." he gasps, his words fading into the air as he loses himself in the memories. "I wanted to... to feel you... to taste you... to hear you moan my name..."

His lips part around a soft, broken sound, eyes barely open, glazed with need and devotion. He’s trembling under your hands, breath shallow, voice cracked as he whispers, "I wanted... I wanted you so bad... I couldn't focus on anything else... I could only think about you... about your touch... about how good it felt when you-" He gasped, cutting himself off as the memory flared back up, leaving him breathless. "God... I could barely... barely concentrate on anything else... though I was… going crazy..."

He lets out a low, shaky moan, his body trembling uncontrollably as the waves of pleasure consume him. "That's... that's why it was so hard... so hard..." he whimpers, his words interrupted by soft gasps as he felt himself teetering on the edge. "It was so hard to... to talk... to talk to you... and not... not think about... a-about…!”

His whole body tenses beneath you, a helpless shudder rolling through him as the pressure builds past the point of return. His fingers twist in the sheets —desperate, frantic—, trying to hold onto something solid while the rest of him falls apart. Then he lets out a moan, deep and broken, the kind that seems to rise straight from his soul, and you take him into your mouth fully, slowly, as if savoring the moment just as much as he is unraveling in it. And when he finally comes —spilling over with a cry that sounds half like your name, half like prayer— you don’t flinch. You stay, mouth warm, accepting, steady, anchoring him as he shakes and gasps and loses himself entirely in you. You feel the way he melts, undone and wrecked and utterly yours, and you don’t let go until his body stops trembling, until he’s all quiet panting and reverent touch, eyes dazed, still somewhere between the high and the afterglow.

His mind goes blank for a moment as the intensity of the sensation overwhelms him. As he slowly comes back down to Earth, he looks down at you with a dazed expression on his face, his breathing ragged and labored. "Y-You..." he whispers, his voice barely audible. "Y-You're... God, flower, I missed you.."

You merely swallow, licking your lips and smile. “I missed you too, love.”

His body still trembles with the aftermath of his climax. You cuddle against him, fixing his hair, kissing his temple with a smile. 

“Want me to fetch a damp towel, love?” you whisper. “I know you don’t like sleeping all sweaty.”

Watching him nod, soft and dazed, like his whole body has finally let go, you smile and brush a hand over his cheek. He lets out a big, shuddering sigh —the kind that seemed to empty every last bit of tension from his chest— and his eyes flutter shut, peaceful in that quiet, golden moment. You move and lean down to kiss him —slow, lingering. He kisses you back with a hum, too blissed-out to speak, but full of everything he wants to say. With one last stroke of your thumb across his jaw, you slip away for a moment, careful not to wake him from the soft place he’s landed in.

When you come back with the damp towel, he’s still lying there, loose-limbed and beautiful, the rise and fall of his chest steady, calm. You lean beside him, murmuring something gentle as you began to clean him up, slow and careful, like a ritual. He barely moves—just lets you care for him, eyes fluttering open now and then to meet mine with that same look he always gives you in these moments: trust, tenderness, and something so deep you’re not quite sure it has a name. not in any language you know, at least. 

We speak of the experience of an encounter as that which can appear before us without our expecting it. It can change our course, it can transform us. It is the novelty that happens to us and then inhabits us. Two paths that cross. Two people that miss the bus at the same time.

What happens when we fall in love? Is it simply a matter of wanting what we don't have, or of wanting it because it seems forbidden? We consider it more interesting to think of it as a set of forces united in a singularity that challenges us, that summons us. One of those things that make us fall in love with someone. In Hyunjin’s case, the colour of your eyes could haunt him in his sleep, and he would forever be grateful for it. Or your smile, and how it lights up the room.

A smile is something that happens between two people. It is a gesture that begins and ends in the gaze of the other, of the person who may feel trapped, invoked, questioned, stolen by that smile. It does not belong to someone. It does not belong to its owner, but is a ‘between’ the two. It takes place in a relationship of one with the other. There is something in that smile that unites, in the same group, everything that has to do with us. Like in that moment when one is frightened and sees one's life flash before one's eyes, only in this case, one sees the life we would have with the person in front of us, reflected in the brightness of their irises.

Who are we afterwards? Are we the same? What happens inside us when we encounter forces, affinities, nuances, tones, and colours that we never expected, but which become everything we desire? It is a question of thinking about the displacement that occurs. When love crosses us, there is a swaying from side to side, a foreshadowing of the transformation to come when these two people collide. This love is only possible because of the tension that makes it unsolvable: a tension between who we are and who we are not, between presence and absence. An encounter from which we emerge changed.

Or not. Maybe the world still spins as usual —but for Hyunjin, with you by his side, it hums in a different key. One composed entirely of music, comfort, and dreams he no longer has to imagine alone.

And as his head touches the pillow —the cold side, after flipping it around—, he passes his arm over your waist and pulls you closer.  

Tomorrow, Saturday morning, he will make sure to pay you back, but right now, Hyunjin is sure.

He loves Friday nights.

[★★{📕}★★]

~kats, who’s new vocal stim is from sade’s kiss of life, “there must’ve been an angel by my side.” (and yes, I am aware that today isn't Friday. sue me)

catiuskaa, june 2025 ©

permanent taglist! @svckrpvnch @thatonedarkskinnedsiren @lyramundana @cheeksung

[whatsverstappeningnow]

how f1 drivers

say 'I love you' for the first time

drivers mentioned: MV33, LN4, OP81, AA23, CS55, CL16, LH44, GR63

max verstappen

It happens in the middle of an argument. 

It's not a fight, no. There is no real heat behind your words, no yelling, no slammed doors, no hurtful mutterings that you wished you could take back—nothing huge is on the line. It's just one of those tense back-and-forths where neither of you are wrong, but neither of you are right either. 

You’re both overly tired and irritable from too many weeks apart. It was bound to happen, one way or another. You both needed to get your emotions out.

There's a tiredness to your voice that seems to rest just as heavily in Max's eyes. What were you even arguing about? You couldn't say for certain, your memory was slipping from you as the uncomfortable moments dragged onwards.

You’re standing in the kitchen, arms crossed, frustrated by something that’s already fading in importance, and desperate to just wrap this up and lie in bed with him. 

"I don't understand," You say, with a distinct sign in your voice, "I don't even know what we're talking about anymore just... just tell me. Put it all out on the table. Just yell at me and get it over with."

There's a sarcasm in your words, a slightly bitter lilt that hangs over your tone, but only because you know Max would never yell at you. He never has, never will. At this point, you're pushing back just because you ca. But at those words, Max suddenly falls silent. 

His arms uncurl from his chest a settle passively by his side, his whole body suddenly limp. The tiredness in his eyes sinks into his body in an instant. You match his stance, feeling the tension of the room slip away and out the front door, leaving behind almost no trace of its visitation in Max's gaze.

The sudden calmness leaves you feeling warm.

He looks at you, really looks at you. Something soft shifts in his expression and leaves him with the ghost of a smile on his lips. 

“I don’t want to fight with you,” he says quietly. “I love you. Okay? That’s what this is. I love you. I've missed you. I'm sorry.”

You blink, swallow hard and let the suddenness of his words rush over you. He loves you. Loves.

“Oh,” you whisper, the start of a smile stretching across your own face to match his. “You love me?”

Max doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t stutter. He doesn't backtrack or play down his words. He just nods once, slow and certain of himself. Of you. When he speaks again, his voice is softer than you've ever heard it before. 

“Yeah. I do. I have for a while now.”

Then he steps closer, steady and calm, hands coming up to cradle your face gently between the palms of his hands. 

“ I love you,” he says again, thumbs brushing over your cheeks. "Even when you’re mad at me. Especially when you’re stubborn. I love all of you. Even when we fight.”

You laugh then, breathless, and lean into him, pressing your forehead to his. "More of an argument, really."

He hums noncommittally and lets his eyes fall closed, his hands slipping down to hold yours gently.

“I love you too,” you whisper into the space between the two of you.

“Good,” he murmurs, his whole body exhaling against yours. His shoulders drop in relief. “Now come to bed. We can argue again tomorrow. For now, we need sleep.”

And later, as you're curled into each other's arms, your head on his chest, resting in bed with a familiar ease, you whisper the words to him again.

"I love you."

Without hesitation, he whispers back, "I love you more. Forever."

lando norris

Mondays after a good race always hold a buzz of excitement, but today more than most. Lando woke with a lightness in his expression, and energy in his bones, that never seemed to slip or dim. You constantly reached for each other throughout the morning: holding hands, legs entangled on the couch, slow breakfasts and slow kisses. Pure comfort and peace hung over the apartment.

The day dragged by, and his pure joy remained unshakeable. 

These types of days, recovery from the long weekend of non-stop pressure and inescapable expectations, were sacred to the two of you. It was a time to be entirely yourselves, without any cameras or demands looming over your heads. 

You've spent the morning clinging to him: holding hands, legs entangled on the couch, slow breakfast and slower kisses. A complete feeling of peace and comfort hung over the apartment, you felt entirely at home in Lando's space. 

Though, that was largely due to the fact that Lando made a place for you in every part of it. Your mug. Your favourite drink in the fridge. Your favourite song playing from the speakers. Your clothes in the second drawer on the right. Everything that was his came with a tagline of something that was yours.

You’re teasing him, gently, curled up on the couch, and he’s laughing so hard he can barely breathe. His hands clutch his stomach as small tears well in his eyes from sheer joy. You've spent the last hour playing Mario Kart, and you've just beaten him for the third time in a row.

“You’re the worst!” he groans, falling back against the plush pillows, hands on his eyes but still laughing hysterically.

“You love it,” you tease, half-heartedly throwing a pillow at him.

“I do. I love you,” he shoots back, totally unthinking, catching the thrown pillow as he speaks.

The second the words are out, his eyes go wide, as if he wasn't aware he had said them out loud.

“I—shit, I mean—I do! I just—fuck. I'm sorry, that was too soon! Fuck!”

You start laughing too, just from the sheer shock on his face and the way he is desperately trying to gauge your reaction. Crawling into his lap with a smile, you press a kiss to his blushing cheek.

“It’s okay. I love you too.”

He melts immediately. "Oh."

You just hum in response, still giggling at the twinkle in his eye.

"You love me?" He asks, voice lingering with childish joy, hands settling on your waist and pulling you closer for a soft kiss.

"Very much." And you do.

oscar piastri

Oscar doesn’t rush things. He never has. He likes to take things slow. Doing it properly, as he always said, was importantto him. You deserved the world, and he intended to give it to you. Just… one careful, intentional step at a time.

It’s late when you leave the restaurant, one of your favourite places for a quiet, but nice, night out. The owners know you, you have a table. It's the perfect place to just relax and be in each other's orbit.

The night is quiet in that peaceful but busy way: traffic is light but a constant white noise around you, the sky a soft navy blanket over you, the streetlights shine a soft glimmer into the damp pavement below your feet. 

Oscar’s thumb traces idly across your knuckles, his hand in yours, but there’s a soft tension to him tonight. Not bad. There is just clearly something lingering under the surface. Something you can't put your finger on.

He hasn’t said much since dinner, since he had helped you put your coat in and pushed in your chair after you. He seemed lost in his thoughts. But after a perfect dinner and calm night, you leave him to whatever he is pondering on. You know he'll tell you eventually.

You feel your hand get squeezed once, just softly, and look up to meet his gaze. 

“I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” he says, eyes looking down at your intertwined hands with a soft smile.

You hum softly, encouraging but not quite pressing. You know he's planned out what he's going to say already, so there is no point in interjecting. Whatever he's about to say, he's been mulling it over for a while. With Oscar, when he’s ready, he’ll say what he needs to.

A moment passes. His grip on your hand tightens slightly again. His pace slows a little, centring the two of you into this one moment. Overhead the moon shines with a gentle blue-tinged glow. It's a full moon tonight, you sneak a look at it as Oscar finds his words.

“I love you,” he says, finally. Just like that. No grand preamble. Just straight honesty. “I’ve been wanting to say it for a while. But I wanted you to hear it properly. You don't have to say it back if you're not ready, or you don't feel that yet...but I just want you to know that I do... love you.”

You stop walking completely. A streetlamp shines straight onto the patch of pavement you've stopped on, illuminating Oscar's face with a golden glow and revealing the soft look in his eye. He looks right at you, his eyes never wavering.

You smile before you can speak, your heart rising up and catching in your throat. “Say it again.”

He huffs out a tiny chuckle, more an exhale than anything truly resembling a laugh. “I love you.”

And then you kiss him, sudden and sure of yourself. His hand finds your waist like muscle memory, while yours wanders up to his neck, one resting in his hair. He sinks into the kiss like he's never been so relieved. A sigh breathes out through his nose and you can only smile into the kiss at the feeling.

You’re the first one to pull back, just a little bit, just enough to speak. "Took you long enough.”

He shakes his head slowly, a little dazed, "I wanted it to be perfect,” he murmurs. “But I really love you. A lot.”

"Good, because I love you too."

The second the words leave your lips he's kissing you again. You find yourself repeating the words over and over on the way back to his apartment just so he'll stop and kiss you again. Each time he does, and each time he whispers back I love you.

carlos sainz

With Carlos, even silence feels comforting. Just having him near is enough to silence all the stresses and worries piled high in your mind. Even when neither of you are speaking, just lying in each other's arms, or sitting nearby doing your own jobs and little necessary tasks, his presence is enough to put you entirely at ease. 

When Carlos is with you, the world becomes calm.

Tonight is no different. You’ve spent the night together, cuddled up on the couch and watching a movie you've both seen before. It's good background noise, something familiar enough to drift into the periphery of your mind without causing much obstruction. 

Somewhere near the movie's end, you feel yourself start to drift off. Normally, you would try and keep yourself awake, treasure the time you had with Carlos before he had to leave again, but the serenity of the moment, and the warmth of his arms around you, make it impossible to stay awake.

You're asleep before you can even suggest moving to the bedroom. Your head rests on Carlos' chest, warm and firm, and you're out like a light—sweet dreams filling your mind.

Feeling you slump against him, Carlos just smiles.

He stays still for a moment, not daring to adjust his hands and barely breathing for fear of waking you up. His eyes drift from the screen to your face. He stays there, for just a moment, watching you sleep and treasuring the content look on your face. 

Knowing you feel comfortable enough in his home to fall asleep so casually is a blessing he holds close to his heart. He wants you to feel safe here, to feel like it's your home too. In his mind, it already is.

He shifts his head closer to your ear, one hand brushing away a strand of hair from in front of your face.

“Te quiero,” he murmurs, barely louder than the sound of the rolling credits. I love you. “Mucho más de lo que sabes.” So much more than you know.

You stir slightly, and for a moment he thinks you are awake, but you don’t stir beyond that small movement. Your hand twitches in your sleep and reaches out to find his.

Carlos, with a breathily, almost silent, laugh, gently entangles his fingers with yours. Then, without a second thought, he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. The credits roll to a close and leave him sat in complete silence, with only the sound of your gentle breathing filling the living room.

He’ll say it again, when you’re awake, so you can hear it and smile and say it back to him. He already knows you will, hesees the way you look at him. It's the same way he looks at you, like you're all he has ever wanted, and will ever need. 

But for now, he lets it linger in the quiet of his apartment, tucked in the space between the two of you, right where it belongs.

alex albon

After a night out with friends, you'd finally returned to Alex's apartment, arm in arm, and laughing about a story you had retold a hundred times. Despite it dragging into the early hours of the morning, you both had no desire to go to sleep yet. 

You're both a little more than tipsy, tripping over your own feet and stray shoes as you try to settle yourselves on the couch. You both burst out laughing again, limbs tangled, cheeks flushed from joy and alcohol. You reach up and push some stray hairs out of your face, still smiling when your eyes catch his lingering gaze.

He’s looking at you.

You blink. “What?”

"Huh?"

"Why are you staring at me like that?"

"Like what," he says, laughing and dragging out the vowels of his words with mock seriousness. 

"Like that," you reply, jabbing him in the side with one finger, using the motion to move closer to him again. You find yourself resting against his side, his arm moving to rest around your shoulder and pulling you in closer.

He just shakes his head with another bright laugh. “Nothing. Just... I really love you.”

You stop laughing, and you watch as Alex's mouth shuts suddenly, as if surprised by himself, by his own choice of words.

His eyes widen instantly. “Oh, shit.”

You sit up quickly, a little shocked, but can't help the smile that spreads across your face as you lean closer into his hold. His words are unexpected, but far from unwelcome. “You love me—”

“—I did not plan to say that. Now, I mean. I didn't plan to say it right now. I wanted to make it, like, a big thing. Roses. Fancy dinner. Candlelight. But now it’s out there and I—yep. There it is.”

His words rush out without a second of breath where you could interject. His hands fidget around in the air as he speaks, unsure of what to do with them, until they finally come to rest in yours. Hand in hand, his stresses start to unwind and calm themselves.

"Yeah, I love you. So, yeah." This time he says it with more conviction, more certainty in his voice. His eyes trace up from the ground to your face, searching your gaze for anything that might tell him how you are going to react.

You’re quiet for a second. And then you laugh again, but it’s softer this time, more stunned than anything. You cup hischeek gently.

“I love you too, idiot. Now is perfect."

charles leclerc

The soft glow of the early morning sun shines in through a crack in the curtains, illuminating a sliver of space on the bed in golden light. It looks like a sunray you would have drawn as a child with bright crayons and markers. A sense of serenity settles over you like a warm blanket, leaving you feeling entirely calm.

Charles' arm is draped over your waist, a soft pressure over your side. Throughout the night he had slowly pulled you closer, a subconscious sleepy action, until your back was pressed to his chest. The closeness had led you to a perfect night's rest, no bad dreams, no waking up, no twisting and turning, no restlessness, just a perfectly soothing sleep.

You’re both still waking up, your body drifting around somewhere between sleep and awareness. But as you feel his arm readjust around you, alerting you to his slow awakening, you let out a content sigh and melt deeper into his hold.

"Morning," you whisper, eyes still closed. A light kiss is pressed to your neck, his facial hair tickling your skin.

"Good morning, mon cœur," he whispers back, speaking the words into the dip of your neck, another soft kiss following his words. Slowly, you shift to lie on your back, finally facing him. His hair is messy in an almost funny way, his eyes still heavy with sleep, but they hold within them a look of deep contemplation.

“What?”

Charles shakes his head, a little smirk tugging at his lips and his hand entangles with yours, pulling it to his mouth to press a soft kiss to your knuckles. “Rien,” he says. “You’re just… you’re so very beautiful.”

You roll your eyes dramatically, but your smile gives away the butterflies in your stomach. No matter how many times he says it, it still makes your heart beat a little faster. “You’re so cheesy in the mornings.”

He laughs softly under his breath. “Je t’aime,” he says, his gaze never leaving you as he says it.

And for a short moment you think you should feel surprised. But as the words linger over you, you realise it feels perfectly normal. Like you've been waiting for him to say it for a while.

“I mean it,” he adds, voice softer than before. “Je t’aime. I think I’ve been trying not to say it too soon. But it is true. I love you.”

Without a second thought, you reply with a smile painted across your face, “I love you too. More than you know”

"Oh," he says, placing another kiss to your neck while his smile shifts into something more boyish, more smug, "I think I know."

lewis hamilton

Lewis isn’t careless with words. When he says something it's always intentional, thought out, prepared. 

He holds his thoughts close to him, lets them spin and settle on his tongue until he knows they’re ready to be said out loud. Until he's sure he really feels it that way. He’s never been one to rush things. He knows how to take his time. His professional life is inescapably fast-paced, so he has to be cautious to keep his personal life slow and steady.

When it comes to you, he's extra careful. He wants to get it right. You deserve perfection. Not uncertainty, not confused words. Perfection. And that's what he intends to give to you.

It’s late, and the two of you are curled up on his couch. The lights are low, dimmed down to a soft hum over the room. It'sjust enough light to see each other, but a few turns of the dial away from complete darkness, just the way the two of you like it.

Roscoe is curled at your feet, snoring gently and leaning against Lewis' leg. Your head rests on Lewis’ shoulder, his arm draped across your back while his fingertips trace slow, comforting circles against your side. 

It feels like the whole world has slowed down. There is no need to be anywhere, no need to hurry, or rush. All you have to do is be here, in this moment. Lewis reaches out for the fluffy blanket at the edge of the couch and drapes it over the two of you, though you're sure he's using it as an excuse to pull you even closer into his embrace. You let him.

He glances down at you as he adjusts the blanket with a quiet certainty—a calmness that only ever seems to settle over his expression when he’s truly at peace. His muscles loosen, his shoulders drop and the crease between his eyebrows has disappeared. The corner of his lips curls up in a sweet smile.

“I love you,” he says slowly, as if he has said it a hundred times before. The words settle familiarly in his mouth, in his voice. It feels natural, calm. 

You lift your head, blinking up at him and matching his sweet smile. “Yeah?”

“I think I've loved you for a while now,” he says with certainty. “But I didn't want to rush it, us.”

You reach up and cradle his face with one hand, the other resting on his chest, a press a slow kiss to his lips. When he pulls back, he adds, "I just wanted to wait for the right moment."

“You found it,” you whisper back.

He kisses you again, smiling against your lips in a way that makes it hard to kiss him properly, but you don't find that you don't mind. The moment stretches, warps, holds over the two of you like a glow of golden light. 

"So what about you," he says with a cheeky smile, "You love me too? Or am I just the poor soul in love with a beautiful woman who doesn't want him."

You hum with an exhail of a laugh, "Of course, I do."

"Say it."

"I love you."

He closes his eyes and leans his head back, as if processing your words. Finally, he looks up at you again, tilting his head slightly to the side.

"Say it again?"

Taking his face into your hands again, you whisper, "Lew, I love you."

george russell

He's planned the whole night down the the second. 

The restaurant was quiet but not stuffy. You'd never been there before, but George had declared a few days ago that he wanted to plan a date night, all by himself, and that all you had to do was show up and look pretty like always, so you'dhappily let yourself be led along to the unknown location by the smiling man. 

The dimly lit room, only illuminated by tea-light candles, was small, intimate, but undeniably beautiful. It was high-end, you knew that before you had opened the menu and noticed no prices listed next to the food, and even before you had noticed the waiters all wearing white gloves. 

So, this was more than a casual date night, this was something important.

George had been uncharacteristically fidgety all night: constantly readjusting his cutlery, tapping his foot beneath the table, glancing up at you like he had something on the tip of his tongue but couldn’t quite say it. But you had decided not to bring it up... whatever he was stressing about, he was sure to mention it eventually. Hopefully.

You’ve only just finished dessert, swallowing the last sweet mouthful and placing down the spoon, when he suddenly leans towards you. His forearms rest on the table as his fingers tap lightly at the wood underneath them, subconsciously tapping out little rhythms like he's trying to psych himself up for something.

“So,” he says, drawing out the word, eyes dragging from the tablecloth up to your eyes as he clears his throat, “I had this whole, like, suave speech planned but… turns out I’m actually really terrible at this.”

You raise an eyebrow with a subtle smirk. “I don't know about that... this has all been very romantic.”

He laughs lightly at your teasing, “Well, I'm glad you think that, because I’ve been sitting here all night trying not to sweat through my shirt. Seriously, you make me so stressed.”

"Stressed, why?"

"Well," he starts, his head tilting ever so slightly from side to side as he thinks, "because I’ve been going over this moment in my head for weeks, and now that you’re sitting here, looking like that… I've forgotten every word I rehearsed."

You wait, sensing the subtle shift in energy in the room. He's not usually so nervous when you tease him. His eyes flick up to yours, and finally stayed there.

“I’ve been, uh, thinking about saying something... for a while. And I kept trying to find the perfect moment, but I’mstarting to think maybe it’s not about perfect timing, and more about just… saying it.”

“Saying what?” You ask, even though you already know. Deep down you know.

“I love you.”

And there's no drama to it. No sweeping declaration of devotion. Just plain honesty, placed carefully between the two of you like an offering.

You stare at him for a second too long before breaking into a wide smile. “That’s what all the foot tapping was about?”

He grins, slightly flushed and blushing. “Maybe.”

You reach across the table and take his hand into yours, squeezing it lightly as if to say I'm here, I see you for exactly who you are. “Good thing I love you too, then.”

The second the words leave your mouth, he exhales, and all the tension leaves his body in an instant, eyes bright with ease. “Bloody hell. That’s a relief.” 

"No more sweating?"

"Yeah," he laughs lightly, "No more sweating."

taglist: @verogonewild @piston-cup

-> comment if you would like to be added/removed!

-> apologies for any mistakes or types... rereading is my mortal enemy!

[teaboot]

Have you had other cats before Ollie? If so, what can you tell us about them?

Thomas was a black cat who slept in my crib when I was a baby. Hated everyone except me and my papa, would attack anyone who came to wake me up. By the time I turned four I was horribly allergic to him and we had to send him to live with family. Never saw him again. Rags was a long-furred bright orange barn cat I only ever saw a handful of times behind my grandma’s house.

Pretty Kitty was half-feral, but by far the most beautiful barn cat we had. A lovely long-haired Siamese type girl with big blue eyes. Shy but gentle.

Monday was a little runty black kitten I gave away at a festival, because I had a box full of kittens who needed homes fast.

Skippy broke his leg as a kitten, and for the rest of his life ran with his back legs together like a jumping bunny. He would play fetch with a ball and bring it back to you after you threw it. My dad hit him with his car one day and never told me.

Arthur was a short-haired orange cat who would meet me at he end of the driveway after school every day and walk me to my bus stop every morning. He had big yellow eyes and would swipe Angel-wing marks onto ground-floor windows with his paws. He went into the fenced backyard when the dogs were out and Penny, the youngest, killed him.

Garfield was another orange-furred cat. I don’t remember much about him, but he got in a fight with a dog and ran away and I never saw him again.

Stumpy was an ancient brick shithouse of a brown tortie with had little tufted ears and á bobbed tail, and half my life she was pregnant or nursing new kittens. She was famously short-tempered and especially protective of her babies, and once swiped one of the sheepdog puppies across the nose for getting too close and spooked him so bad he was terrified of cats the rest of his life. I once saw her catch, kill, and devour an entire rabbit, bones and all.

G*psy was an unfortunately-named sweetheart, white with black spots, who was my absolute best friend for the longest time. Eventually she had two kittens, one I gave to family and one that went to live with my papa. One day I realized she’d disappeared, and spent six months looking for her. Then I found out that an eagle had carried her off, and my grandpa had found half of her left behind in a field and hadn’t had the heart to tell me.

Bobbi and Fritz were two cats whose names I may be misremembering, left behind when an old lady in town had died without assigning them to anyone in her will. My mom wound up giving them to me to take care of. I don’t remember what happened to Fritz, but I went to feed Bobbi one morning and found her dead in her litter box.

Franklin was an emaciated-looking orange bastard who was 17 when I got him. Again, his owner had passed away before he could, so I wound up with him. He was pretty clearly depressed and would sometimes attack me at random, wrapping himself around my leg and biting the shit out of me. He passed away the morning we were about to leave for a road trip so he spent several weeks in a paper bag in our freezer before I could bury him.

Fireside Al was a semi-feral barn cat who would have been an excellent lap cat, if he wasn’t in a perpetual state of mild claustrophobia. The deal was he’d come into the house and STAY in the house for as long as the front door was open, but as soon as you tried to close the door he’d cry and wail and generally pitch á fit before zoning out again at the soonest chance. As per the name, his favourite spot was on the warm bricks in front of the cast-iron wood stove.

Ashley was a black and white cat and a massive bitch who hated everyone and everything except my dad. She never did gain weight, was like a bag of sticks under a rug her whole entire life, was scared of small rodents and hated babies. All she ever wanted was to bite people and be left alone.

Monty survived losing all his teeth, two major ear infections that left both ears tiny and shriveled, dementia, some sort of seizure disorder, cancer, a house fire, and something that made him spontaneously pee blood sometimes. He passed away peacefully in his sleep at 21 years old. Until that point, the joke was that all his various conditions and diseases had neutralized each other in their fight for dominance. My mom once heard him cough, asked him if he was okay, and then watched him hack up a tooth. He drooled when he was happy and smelled like garbage, his skin was crusty and full of cysts, and near the end sometimes he would get confused and end up lost somewhat in the house, or forget who the other cats were and attack them. He was a very good boy and we miss him.

Cookie is 30lbs and silky-soft like a chinchilla. He is also largely blind due to a disease he got as a kitten, and can only see vague shadows and bright lights because he somehow has two optic nerves in each eye. We found out when he first went blind and then seemed to miraculously regain some vision- seems like his tiny spare mutant nerves worked as a backup. I once watched him sit on another cat and eat its food. He’s doing great

Petra is probably 4.5 pounds soaking wet and launches herself from person to person like a flying squirrel. She is a soft blue-grey princess my brother’s boss found in a ditch on the side of the road. Every photo of her looks insanely glamorous.

Otis was my big baby who kept me alive through college. I brought him home and kept him in my room in secret for two weeks before my younger brother narc’d. At one point my dad told me if I didn’t get rid of him he’d kill him, so I took him out into the woods myself and set up camp in the old family home we’d abandoned years back. Then he moved out with me when I was 17 and went to college. He’s a crochety old man now and lives with my mom.

Tyler is my brother’s cat. He stole her by accident. Before then she was kind of shared by his whole neighborhood, until she showed up injured at his house. She is now “the biggest bitch alive, I love her so much”, to quote him. She hates all other forms of life and only really tolerates my brother.

Cleo was also my brother’s, but she passed away recently due to age and health reasons. He used to be solid muscle like Stumpy but developed a thyroid issue of some kind where her body just could not retain weight. She was very spoiled in her golden years though, and once declared terminal was pretty much given Doritos on demand (she fucking loved Doritos)

Not a complete list but these are the ones I think of most. If you can take away anything from this, please don’t let your cats free-roam unsupervised. Even barn cats, with a whole barn for shelter and an actual job to perform, don’t last long outdoors.

Much appreciated.

[wosospacegirl]

Youngest Putellas - part 2

Summary: There was a shadow growing in the Putellas family, unnoticed, while everyone kept their attention on Alexia. Somehow, your mom's house and your city felt too small for both you and your sister.

Warnings: Lots of bittersweet sisterhood moments; Alexia is an angry kid, Alba thinks she's a hairdresser, you pray a lot, and Misa is standing topless in the middle of the locker room.

Word count: 6.2k

Marteslist here

..

Alexia never called you. It had been two months since you were sent to Real Madrid; two months since you last spoke with your sister.

Well, at least since the two of you had a proper–and private–conversation.

When you would call Mom or Alba, and Alexia happened to be there, they would just shove the phone in Alexia's face and stare at her until the two of you managed some awkward conversation that would go like:

"Hi."

"Hi."

"Good game."

"Thanks, you too."

You hadn't faced Alexia on the pitch yet. The last time Madrid and Barcelona played against each other, you weren't deemed fit; you had pulled a muscle a few days before training, so you didn't even make it to the bench.

Still, you watched Alexia from afar. And it hurts.

When you found out Real Madrid would play against Barça, you were happy. Not just at the thought of playing, or showing Barcelona that yes, you were capable, a good player, but also... You missed your teammates, Jana, Salma, Vicky... and Alexia.

You hoped, prayed even before going to sleep, that Alexia would send a text telling you to pick a café around Madrid to show her before the game, or that she would ask to sleep over so you two could spend time together.

But that didn't happen.

The game was approaching. First, it was a week away, then days. Your thumb hovered over the chat with your sister. There was only one message there, that she had sent just as you landed off the plane. Nothing more, for two months. Sixty days.

You sighed, rolled around in bed, finding yourself face to face with a picture of your family. Or what used to be your family. It was a picture of Mom and Dad.

Alexia was a bit older in this one, maybe eleven, Alba was nine and you were four.

It was such a staged picture, not natural at all. You and your sisters were dressed in these ridiculously big dresses. Not long, just big. Puffy. You all looked like little cakes. But Mom loved that, said it made her girls look pretty, feminine, whatever that meant.

Mom was wearing a dress too, but prettier. White, not too tight, not too loose either. Dad had on this very normal shirt, you remembered that one.

Dad never threw anything away, kept most of his clothes for years, until Mom would sneak them into the donation box when he was at work.

Your eyes moved across the picture. You wanted to look at Dad, but you couldn't. Didn't want that pain right now, not when you were already feeling abandoned by your own sister, who was very much still breathing.

You focused on Alexia instead, right now, the reason behind the weight in your chest.

Her hair was very short in the picture. You remembered that day very well.

Mom was making lunch while you, Alexia and Alba hung around the living room. You were there first, you always were. Small legs, but they made you fast.

You sat cross-legged on the floor watching Strawberry Shortcake, loved how each character had their own fruit, their own colour and personality, and how it all matched their outfit. Made them easier to understand that way.

You were perfectly content when suddenly the TV changed to a game–football. You were four, and unlike your older sister, you didn't care much for football, especially not when Strawberry Shortcake was babysitting all the village pets on the other channel.

With all the determination of a four-year-old, you turned around, looked up at the sofa where your sister sat, staring at the TV like you didn't exist. Her hair was long then, down to her back. She looked so much like Dad.

You liked looking at her when Dad went to work; she reminded you of him.

"Put it back now!" you said, a frown on your face. "I was watching first, Mami said I could watch TV."

"Shh!" Alexia said, looking down at you before putting her eyes back on the TV. "Barça is playing! I wanna watch them!"

You rolled your eyes. Alexia and Papa were so alike. Whenever Barça played, they had to watch. You never understood why; it was always the same thing: same people running around the same ball on the same green pitch.

You found a moment when Alexia was too focused on the TV and snatched the remote away, changing it to channel nine.

It was probably a bad time, because Alexia screamed (really screamed) saying they were about to take a penalty.

"You are so annoying!" she said as she took the remote from you aggressively and put the game back on. "Don't ever do it again."

You didn't like when Alexia yelled, so you cried.

Your lip formed into a pout as tears streamed down your cheeks. Your eyes were closed and your hands were on your face. You didn't see who hugged you, but you knew the smell, it was the same shampoo you all shared.

"No... no llores, perdón." [No... don't cry, I'm sorry.] Alexia said, rubbing your back the same way Mom did.

"Make her stop!" said Alba, walking into the living room. "Or else Mami will come here and ground all of us! I could hear her screaming from the backyard..."

Alexia looked at Alba, scared, then back at the game, then back at you, crying in her arms. "Perdón, hey... mira, ya está todo bien." [Sorry, hey... look, everything's okay now.]

Alba plopped herself down on the sofa, rolling her eyes–of all three sisters, she was the one who did it the most. Mom hated it.

"You need to stop yelling at her so much, Ale. She gets scared. She's small and has small ears; every sound is too loud for her."

Alexia looked at Alba guiltily. "I didn't mean to. She changed the channel just when I was watching the game. I got mad."

Alba got up from the sofa–she never liked to stay in the same place for too long–and went to the coffee table in the middle of the living room where a bunch of art supplies were lying.

She walked past you and Alexia, giving you a kiss on the head. "You always say that, yet you always choose to be angry."

"I don't choose it," Alexia said grumpily, continuing to rub your back, calming you down. "I just am. It's not my fault."

"Mom said we should pray to make our hearts good," Alba said, taking one of the colouring books from the table and beginning to colour. "Maybe you should pray to make your heart less angry."

Alexia was silent. She let the words of her nine-year-old sister sink in, well, as much as she coul,d considering you were still pretty much crying in her ear.

In the end, Alexia compromised. She let you finish the episode of Strawberry Shortcake before putting the game back on. By that time, the penalty had already been scored, but Alexia didn't complain again.

It was all good after that. Alba continued to paint, focusing on her colors, while you sat on the sofa, your head on Alexia's lap as she watched the rest of the game.

You watched it too, but not because you wanted to, but because Alexia was playing with your hair and you didn't want to move away from that.

You liked when Alexia was kind to you, even though it mostly happened when she was guilty about something she had done to you.

"They are all boys," you said when the camera focused on one of the players. It had its name on the back, but you didn't know how to read.

"Yes, it's the men's team," Alexia said, not taking her eyes off the TV.

"Aren't there any women playing?"

"There are," Alba chimed in. "Dad took Alexia and me to see them at the stadium last month."

You pouted and turned to Alba. "Why didn't he take me?"

"You are too little."

They always said that, so you got used to it, being too little, too small for everything. It was true: you didn't go to the bathroom alone at night, Mami needed to cut your meat for you, and Alba had to hold your hand when you walked to school.

Maybe the stadium was too big, too dangerous for you.

"Do they all have short hair too? The women?" you asked either of the girls.

"Some do, but most don't," Alexia said.

"You have long hair," you pointed out. "Can you play?"

Alexia thought for a moment and looked at Alba for an answer.

Alexia was the oldest, but it was like she always relied on Alba for some reason you couldn't understand. You hoped one day they would look at you, searching for confirmation, for reassurance.

"Yes, I just need to put it in a ponytail," Alexia said after some time in silence.

"Mama does her hair before she has training," Alba said. "She just takes a bunch of hair and puts it up, so it doesn't get in her eyes."

You accepted that answer, but then you thought about it more. "What if there aren't any more hair ties?"

"I'll just ask Mom to get more. She has a bunch in her room," Alexia said.

"What if Mami runs out of them?"

"I would ask Papa to buy more. He always buys stuff for us."

"But what if all hair ties disappeared from the world?" you asked finally. "What would you do?"

Alexia thought for a moment, and it was like the game didn't matter anymore. "Hm... no lo sé." [Hm, I don't know.] she said, looking rather worried.

"Maybe you could cut your hair, Alexia," Alba said, "like…" she placed her hand by her ear. "This short."

"Mami would be mad," you said.

"Dad would be proud," Alba said back. "He said we need to be bold!"

Alexia continued to be silent, and then she took your head from her lap and walked to the little cup on the coffee table that had some arts and crafts materials and took some scissors. They were Alba's, and they were filled with pink glitter and stickers.

"Hey, give it back!" Alba said, the same pout on her face that you had had an hour before.

"No, I need it!" Alexia said, then she made her way to the mirror. It was big, she could only see the top of her own head. You and Alba saw nothing; you were face to face with the wall. "I'm cutting it."

"QUÉ?!" [What?!] you said in a little high-pitched voice.

You had cut your doll's hair last week, and Mom was not happy about that. Mami wouldn't like Alexia to cut her hair either.

"No, Mami will be mad!" you said again, eyes wide, filled with fear, as if the worst thing in the world was Mami scolding you and your sisters.

"Yay! Let's cut it!" Alba said, beaming. She had lost some of her back teeth, two to be exact. Mami said she looked very grown-up. You wanted to lose some teeth too.

"I'll do it! I'll do it! Give me!" Alba tried to get the scissors from Alexia's hand, but Alexia fought her back.

"No! Stop it, I'll do it. You're gonna do it all wrong," Alexia huffed. "You can barely cut circles."

Alba rolled her eyes again and, for once in her life, she outdid Alexia; she was able to get the scissors. "Let me do it. I cut my friends' hair all the time at school."

Alexia looked at her. "What?! Does Mami know that?"

"Of course not!" Alba said. She took Alexia's shoulders and turned her. "Just be still, let me do it."

You watched as Alba cut Alexia's hair. It all went down to the floor, every strand, until she was done. Alexia stood on her tiptoes, trying to look at herself in the mirror.

She slowly smiled. "I love it!" she said.

You watched as she hugged Alba. You didn't like the hair, it looked like a boy's hair and it was uneven, and you had never seen a girl with short hair before.

You didn't know if it was okay, but Alexia was smiling, and she was happy.

And when Alexia was happy, she didn't yell. So you smiled at her and hugged her. She hugged you back. You stayed like that until Mom walked into the living room.

"Let's all get ready for the pictu–QUÉ ES ESTO?!" [What is this?]

Mami found the living room filled with light brunette hair. Her oldest daughter with the most uneven haircut she had ever seen, her middle kid holding scissors like they were a very special prize, and you, her youngest, just smiling, happy to be there.

Mami froze for a second before screaming. You and your sisters' smiles disappeared completely. Yeah, Mami didn't like it.

Mami knelt in front of Alexia, slightly pushing you and Alba out of the way. "Alexia, what have you done? Your beautiful hair!"

"I can play football now, Mami," Alexia said. "That's why Alba cut it."

Mami looked horrified at Alba. "Alba cut it? You let your sister cut your hair? Alexia!! Dios mío–oh God."

Mom got up from the floor and started to pace around the living room. You and your sisters stood frozen in the same spot, looking down, trying to be invisible.

"Your hair, Alexia! We have family pictures. How are we going to take pictures if your hair looks like that?!"

When Mom started yelling again at Alexia, you and Alba very sneakily slipped away to your room. You two loved Alexia dearly, but Mami was scary.

"Is she going to stay mad until Ale's hair grows back?" you asked Alba, as you two walked to your shared room.

"Probably," Alba said as she flopped face down on her bed. You followed her, lying right next to her.

"Do you regret it?" you asked, voice muffled by the mattress.

"No and yes," Alba said.

"Why?"

"Alexia wanted short hair, so I don't regret that, but I regret that Mami is mad at her."

It was getting hard to breathe, so you turned around. "Would you cut my hair if I wanted it?"

"No," Alba said without missing a beat.

"Why?" you asked, hurt in your voice.

"Mami would be mad just like she is right now," Alba said. "But you can't handle mad. Alexia can."

"I can handle mad!" you said stubbornly.

"No, you can't."

"I can!" you insisted.

"You cry too much, that's not handling it." Alba turned to you, talking as if you were much younger than you were.

"It's the only way I can," you said.

"It's okay, I'm not telling you to stop crying." Alba took one of her teddy bears and hugged it to her chest. "I'm just saying I wouldn't cut your hair, but you can cut it on your own if you like."

You sat in silence. You were trying to think, trying to find meaning in the conversation, but you couldn't, so you remembered something Alba had said when you were crying.

"You said we can pray to make our hearts good…" You began. "Is that true?"

"Yes, and it works!" Alba beamed. "I started it yesterday, and I already feel like such a good person! And I didn't even need to pray a lot, just once."

"Really? Does it really work?" you asked, surprised, happy that there was such a magical thing as a prayer.

"Sí! Te prometo." [Yes! I promise you.] Alba said. "You should do it. You can pray for anything, really."

You hummed.

Moments later, Alexia walked in. She had her arms crossed, her nose was red, her eyes too, like she wanted to cry but didn't let herself. She never did, always held it in.

"You three, get in your dresses right now," Mami said. She was still very much mad. "Your dad is coming to pick us up for picture day after work."

Mami went to the drawer and placed the dresses down. Each one looked the same; the only difference was size. Then she closed the door with a thud.

Alba tried to talk to Alexia, made her say what Mom had told her, but she stayed with her mouth closed as she put her dress on. It looked weird on her. You looked at Alba and…it looked weird on he,r too.

You lifted your hands up as Alexia dressed you. You looked down, and it looked ugly. You didn't like the dress at all. But you weren't going to say that.

When Dad stopped at the house, everybody got into the ca,r and Dad drove to the studio. Mami had a frown on her face, but Dad told her something that made her smile, and then she wasn't mad anymore.

He didn't say anything about Alexia's hair, but he winked at her through the rearview mirror, which made Alexia smile too.

You loved Dad; he always made it better.

After the picture was taken, Mami made dinner with Dad, and everybody ate together. Then, Mami put you and your sisters to bed.

She kissed Alexia's forehead, and you could hear a soft "sorry" coming through her lips. Then she tucked Alba in and put socks on her feet–she always forgot.

You were the last one. She took one of your plushies that had fallen from the bed and gave it to you.

She said goodnight and closed the door. It was very dark, and you hated it, but you had grown used to the fear of the shadows in the back of the room.

You were almost asleep when you heard Alexia murmuring something in her bed.

"Please, Lord, don't let me be angry ever again!" She was praying, just like Alba had told her.

You decided to do the same. You placed your hands together, palm to palm. "Hi Lord, I would like to not make my sisters angry, and also, to stop crying, please and amen!"

..

You remembered waking up the next morning to find Alexia braiding Alba's hair, her fingers gentle and careful. They were sitting on Alexia's bed, her bed was always so soft and warm, way better than yours and Alba's.

You smiled as Alexia looked over. She smiled too, but it wasn't a forced smile like the one you all did for the family picture. It was a real one that made her hazel eyes crinkle a little.

"Come here," she whispered and patted the mattress on her left. You scrambled over, fitting nicely between her and Alba. You waited until she finished with Alba's hair.

"Your hair is the prettiest of us three," Alba said as she took the right side of your parted hair and began braiding it, as Alexia did the same with the left.

"Dad said we are all pretty," you said.

"We are," Alexia agreed. "But your hair is just... shinier than ours."

A compliment. They had given you a compliment. You smiled big, but your sisters didn't see it. They were facing your back. You didn't know exactly why, but a compliment coming from Alexia and Alba weighed more than one that came from Mom and Dad.

And then you remembered: You had prayed last night, you prayed not to make your sisters angry, and now they were here, sitting with you, braiding your hair.

No one was fighting, Alexia wasn't mad, and Alba wasn't trying to fix whatever needed fixing.

Maybe prayers really did work, you thought back then.

And now, years later, in your small apartment in Madrid, lying in a bed that didn't feel soft like Alexia's, with no one braiding your hair or sitting close enough to feel, you found yourself wishing for the same thing.

That Alexia wouldn't be angry. That you wouldn't cry so much. That someone might sit beside you again and tell you your hair was shiny.

You closed your eyes and pressed your palms together, just like before. You weren't faithful, not anymore, but you needed it to be real, just tonight.

"Hi, Lord, it's me again," you whispered, very quietly, even though no one was home. "Please let Alexia talk to me again. And please don't let me cry. Not tonight."

Then you turned over in bed, facing the wall instead of the empty side beside you.

You weren't expecting a miracle. You weren't even if you were expecting something at all. But something inside you hoped that if you said it out loud, it would matter, that Alexia would hear it somehow, all the way from Barcelona.

The next morning, your world stayed the same, your routine went on as if nothing had happened. There weren't any texts from Alexia. No missed call. No nothing.

You didn't have Alexia, but you still had people who cared about you; that was good for now.

..

Madrid didn’t feel so lonely with Teresa.

Teresa was a midfielder and one of the first girls to open her arms and really make you feel welcome on the team. Real Madrid wasn't a bad team; they weren't as hostile as Alexia made them out to be.

You knew, of course, that it was all part of some weird belief Alexia created in her mind when she was younger–that Barcelona was the best club in the world, the only good club, and that Real Madrid was the worst team with the worst players.

The team didn't seem the worst when all the girls introduced themselves and quickly asked to follow you on Instagram. Teresa didn't seem like a bad person when she helped you put away the last box from your move. Athenea was nothing but kind when she offered to buy groceries with you so you didn't have to do it alone.

The people in Madrid were nice; the weather was good, and the food was excellent.

It was all so good that you hated it.

Hated how nice it was, how everything looked like it was working for you.

You weren't used to that, not in Barcelona. You weren't used to people being nice to you just because; you were used to people being nice to you because you were Alexia's sister. You were used to your neighbour seeing you and saying they were sorry for your father, even though it had been 10 years since he passed.

But Madrid was completely yours. It was a blank canvas you could paint to your liking. This amount of freedom was scary; that's why you always found yourself calling Mami, she calmed you and brought some sort of comfort to your days.

"And it's not soft!" you said to your phone screen, which was on the floor while you put clothes in the washing machine. "I don't know what you do, Mama, but my clothes don't get as soft as they used to when you were the one washing them."

"I already told you, petita," Mama said. "You need to put white vinegar in the machine."

You put sock after sock inside the machine, there were a lot of socks for just one week, weird. "I put it, Mama, but it's not the same."

"Maybe the white vinegar from Barcelona has some sort of power," Alba said, teasing.

"Yeah, maybe," you said back. "Anyway, are you guys still coming here this weekend?"

"Yes!" Mama said.

"Even Alexia?" You were scared to know the answer.

"Sí," Alba said. "I said I wasn't going to speak with her if she didn't go with us."

How come Alba could threaten Alexia, saying she wouldn’t speak to her, like that was a punishment and still, Alexia hadn’t shared a single word with you in months?

"Good. Mama and Alexia can share my bed, me and Alba can sleep on a mattress in the living room," you said.

"Why do I get the floor and Alexia gets the bed?" Alba said, annoyed.

You rolled your eyes. "Because she's like super old and you're not."

"I'm not old!" you heard a voice on the phone. You were in the middle of putting your shirt in the machine when you froze.

"Oh, Alexia is there?" you asked. You hated how hopeful your voice sounded.

There was silence from the other line, but finally, a voice said, "Hi, sí, I'm here. How are you?"

You gulped. You didn't know how to respond. You weren't fine, you missed Barcelona, at the same time that you also really liked Madrid. If it were Alba who asked that question, then maybe you would tell the truth.

"I'm good, very happy," you said as you tried to keep going with your laundry. "I live in a very good area, lots of parks and…"

"You love parks," Alexia said, more like stated, as if she wanted to be assured that was still something she knew about you, as if you had changed so much, which you hadn't. Alexia was just the one who pulled away.

"I do, yeah," you said.

"They cut that tree in that park down the street," Alexia said.

"Alexia!" you heard Mama say. "Why would you tell her that?"

"They cut it?" you asked.

There was a park very near your house. It was the only place Mama and Dad let you three go alone. It was small, it didn't have a playground, but it had a sandbox and a lot of trees.

One in particular, it was an Abeto blanco. It didn't have anything special; it looked like any other pine, and you couldn't even climb it.

But when you were 7, you learned in school its scientific name, Abies alba. When the teacher said ALBA, your eyes widened with wonder. It was just like your sister's name!

From that moment on, that tree was bound to be your favourite. Alba was smug for a week, teasing Alexia about how she was your favourite sister just because you picked a tree based on her name.

Alexia always hated that tree because of it, and said some scientist should put the name Alexia on a tree, so they could make it even. It never happened, though, something about Alexia not being Latin enough.

"Sí," Alexia said. "They want to build some chess tables there."

"Chess tables? Who cuts down trees to make chess tables?"

"Barcelonians, I think," Alexia said, and just like that, she handed the phone back to Alba.

"Well, as you can see, Alexia has a sensitive way of telling the news."

You didn’t know what to do with the ache that lingered after the call.

Alexia had spoken to you, but it didn’t feel meaningful or genuine. It felt distant and careful, as if the two of you had completely forgotten how to talk to each other in a sincere way.

You were cooking pasta for yourself now. It was late at night, and dinner time had long passed, but you still found yourself on the stove. You weren't cooking because you were hungry; you were cooking because you needed to think.

Thinking was something you did a lot lately. But it never brought clarity. It only made you more confused, like you were digging yourself deeper into a hole instead of finding a way out.

You weren’t sure if you missed Barcelona… or if you just missed being missed.

..

It was just another day of training. Most girls had gone home already, but you were still in the locker room because you had just finished a late physiotherapy session for the muscle that you pulled a few days ago.

You were shirtless, with just a training bra and some shorts. You were sitting on one of the benches, one next to your locker, taking off your shoe, when Misa walked in.

You froze for a second, just looking at her back. She knew you were there; she just didn't say anything, so you kept quiet too.

But you didn't take your eyes off of her. She was pretty, very pretty, and it made you confused.

She was in front of her locker. She rummaged inside of it and took her training bag out, then she placed it on the bench right in front of you. She still didn't say anything, didn't look at you.

Misa took off her jersey and her training top, standing topless in front of you. You immediately looked down, feeling a blush on your cheeks.

You didn't know why you were feeling like that. You had seen your teammates naked a lot of times, both in Barça and Madrid, but still, it felt different with Misa.

Like you couldn't look at her, like it would be something wrong if you did, but at the same time, there was an urge in your body telling you to just look.

You liked looking at Misa from afar, but seeing her naked in front of you was a whole other story.

Misa was grumpy; she always had a pout on her face, but not a cute one. It was a pout where she always carved her teeth in, so her lips always looked hurt.

You found yourself looking at her lips a lot, too. When she was training alone with her coach, you noticed how her left foot was always (in some way) turned to the right, every single time. It was weird, but Misa always got the ball before it touched the net. You didn't understand how it happened, how she always got it right.

If you needed to run in a direction, your foot would obviously be set in that direction, but it seemed like it didn't happen like that with Misa.

Maybe it was a goalkeeper thing, or a Misa thing. You weren't sure. You didn't look much at Cata's feet when you were in Barcelona; you didn't know why you were doing it now.

Misa put on a change of clothes before taking her bag and putting it on her shoulder.

"Goodnight, Putellas," she said before looking at you.

You saw her leave. You opened your mouth to respond, but then she closed the door, and you were alone again.

You sat on the bench for another fifteen minutes. You didn’t know why you were still there, why your skin felt warmer, or why your eyes kept flicking toward the door, as if Misa might come back.

At the wise age of twenty-one, you realised you didn’t know anything anymore.

..

You were on your Instagram, endlessly scrolling while you had a bag of ice on your thigh. You had a minor injury in the game today against Atlético de Madrid.

You had just been released from the physio, and they allowed you to go home and rest, but only if you promised to take care of the injury.

You didn't tell Mom; you didn't want to worry her.

She was always worried about injuries. If you told her about yours, she would book a flight and come. But Mom already had Alba and Alexia to care for; she didn't need to care for you, who was hours away.

Just as you were ready to close the app and fall asleep, you saw a picture Alexia posted. She was with Alba and Mama in some corner of Barcelona you didn't know. They looked pretty, happy.

Alba looked so much like Mama–she had the exact same expression. Alexia, too, but she always took more from Dad. You, on the other hand, were the perfect mix. When people saw Mami, they said you were her copy. If you showed them an old picture of Dad, they said you were his clone.

You liked that you didn't look exactly like one of your parents. You liked the idea of having something just yours. It wasn't about uniqueness; it was about belonging.

You loved your parents, but you also loved that your smile wasn't exactly like Mom's or Dad's. Your nose? Same thing. It had a bit of both, but not 100 percent of them.

You already didn't have a name of your own, and Putellas was a heavy name to carry. So, at least you had your face, which looked like a mix of everything.

You couldn't help but feel like you were missing in the picture, that that was your family, that you should be with them. It was a weird feeling. It was jealousy, anger and sadness. Something not fair to them.

Fast and unfair thoughts went through your mind: Why are they going out to have a good time without me? Why do they look so happy? Don't they miss me? Are they happier that I'm not there?

Alexia was probably happy–she never liked how you were a slow walker. But Alba always wanted to stop to take pictures of places, and Alexia complained about that too, yet there they were.

You felt tears form in your eyes, tears that you didn't let roll down your cheeks because the reason for it was too petty. Who in the world felt angry for seeing their family happy?

You were the one who chose to leave. Their lives went on the same. The only problem was: your life didn't stay the same.

Your life changed completely in the absence of your Mama, of Alba and Alexia. But they seemed to have found themselves in a very quick new routine, and it stung.

You liked the picture, but didn't comment on anything. You felt like someone from the outside looking in, someone who wished to be there, but felt like there wasn't a place.

You didn't feel this with Dad.

You and Alexia never liked pictures or being filmed. Not Alba, Alba and Mama loved it. Papa called Alba his little star. He would always turn on a filming camera on Sundays and walk around the house filming everyone.

The first one to be filmed was always Mama. You remembered one specific home video...

Mama was at the table. It was Sunday morning, and you could hear the birds singing and the neighbour's dog barking.

Alexia was on her side, a bored expression on her 11-year-old face. Mama was teaching her improper fractions.

When Dad showed up around the corner, Mama looked up at him and smiled. Alexia, on the other hand, hid her face in the tablecloth.

"None of that, let me see your pretty face," Dad said as he stepped closer and took the tablecloth from Alexia, who then smiled, but was quick to hide her face in the crook of Mama's neck, who wrapped her arms around Alexia, bringing her closer.

"Don't film her, she doesn't like it," Mama said.

"But she's my princesa," Dad said, then he zoomed in on Alexia. "Mi princesa, deja que papi te vea." [My princess, let daddy see you.]

Alexia shook her head, but you could hear her laughing.

And then, as if a tornado had happened, you and Alba walked into the kitchen running. You were four, wearing a made-up superhero costume Alba had just made for you out of some old cloth Mama had lying around. Alba was wearing Mama's old dress, way too big for her.

"Oh, and who do we have here?" Dad turned around, filming you and Alba. The moment you saw the camera, your little eyes widened, and you ran to Mom, holding her tight and mimicking Alexia, hiding your face.

"Does my superhero feel shy?" Dad asked, but he didn't wait for an answer before filming Alba. "And look at this pretty young lady, you look just like your mama."

"She looks better," Mama said playfully, watching as Alba did a fashion show, as she always did for Dad.

"Ale?" you said in a small voice, your and Alexia's faces still squeezed against your mom, trying to hide from Dad. "Wanna play ball?"

"No," Alexia said. "Last time I hurt you, Mama was mad."

"It's okay," you said, "I won't say anything if I fall this time."

"You said that every time."

"I pinky promise," you took your face from Mama and held out your pinky to Alexia, who had a marked spot on her cheek from being squeezed into Mami.

Alexia took your finger. "Okay, let's go."

Alexia kissed Mami's cheek. "Mami, I'll do the homework later, sí?"

Mami got up from the table and nodded. "Okay, I need to make lunch anyway."

As you two were ready to leave for the backyard, Alba's fashion show was done, and Dad had that camera again. "Where are my babies going?" he said as he followed you with the camera.

Alexia, who was faster and older, just screamed playfully. "Come on, Y/n, run from Dad!"

You did as your sister told you and ran to the backyard.

Dad took that as a challenge and playfully chased you two around, well, three, when Alba heard the laughter, she came to play tag with you too, although Mama wasn't happy about how dirty her dress looked after all of that.

..

A/n: About the Alexia and the tree thing, there are actually two genera of flowers that are named Alexa and Alexya, one is common mainly in South America and the other one in China, Australia and the Pacific islands, but for story purposes, let's pretend they don't exist.

Tag list: @footy-lover264 , @fortifyde, @naomigirmadefender , @neutraiise , @milkveed, @browercc , @ace-of-baked , @ikzzzya , @sky-the-trans-guy00 , @knight-16, @wosohk04, @evaissleepy13, @papimapileon , @unpoppablebubbles @whiskeredshrimp-blog @goodloe-e @liloandstitchstan

[gamingavickreyauction]

What happens if all the good Israelis leave? Is that going to end the occupation? No, in fact it will give the Israeli right stronger majorities to do even enact even more violence. It's better that Israelis who oppose the occupation stay where they are and try to change hearts and minds, unless they're currently in settlements or something. Changing Israeli minds is unfortunately probably not how this conflict the occupation will end at this point, but it's still valuable to minimise how many Palestinians are murdered in the meantime. The thing that made Ian Smith bad isn't that he was a white man living in Rhodesia, it's that he was actively involved in maintaining the colonial system. If instead he was involved in dismantling it, he would have been a positive presence.

If it's unclear whether a revolt will succeed that's one thing, but if it's clear that it will fail and just kill people along the way that's another. If you kill a bunch of people as part of a 'revolt' that has 0 chances of actually freeing anyone (or otherwise materially improving their lives) then you're just killing people. And that's what happened with Oct 7. It was extremely clear from the outset that nothing good would come of it for Palestinians. If it's impossible to tell if a revolt will succeed then you have to weigh the benefits of potential freedom against the costs- which will usually come out in favour of the revolt because subjugated people suffer so much.

I don't know enough about most of the examples you provide to comment, but the Sparticist uprising was absolutely wrong. Rosa Luxemburg said at the time that Germany wasn't ready and there was no hope of an uprising succeeding, but Karl Liebknecht instigated an uprising anyway and it destroyed their movement, led to their deaths, and ended up being a step towards the Nazi takeover of Germany. Liebknecht threw away the communists' hopes in Germany for nothing, for no better reason than impatience. And it wasn't just him that suffered for his self sabotage but all Germans- and especially the Jews. Resistance to the conditions they lived under (which were much less extreme than the conditions Palestinians are living under) was absolutely justified, but that does less than nothing to justify the squandering of hope for that resistance by Liebknecht. Hold on I've just realised you said Spartacus revolt not Spartacist revolt. Oh well.

You're also talking as if there is a unified position of all Palestinians about what to do that you can support, but there isn't even agreement within Hamas about what to do, and most Palestinians did not support Oct 7. So the idea of 'supporting Palestine' meaning agreeing with whatever you think Palestinians think is pointless. Support has to mean taking material steps to end the occupation. And as someone who isn't in control of any government yourself, the best you can do there is trying to shift public opinion. International opinion isn't some illusory player here- remember the main goal of the Oct 7 attacks was to stop a shift in international opinion towards Israel, and Israel invests a huge amount in propaganda. Every player here agrees international opinion is important. And that's because the facts on the ground make it obvious that no violent solution to the occupation of Palestine is ever happening. The Israeli military so far outstrips anything Gazans or West Bank residents could put together that no genius military tactic could affect how it plays out. Palestinians have already tried to fight for their freedom several times, and each time it has only left them more beaten and abused. The inescapable reality is they are trapped by a force to powerful to free themselves from. But it's a force that's very susceptible to international pressure, so that's the way out- which won't be fast, but at least it's a possible path to Palestinian liberation.

although one critical difference is that the aboriginal australians don’t call for the removal of all the colonisers from the country. because thats not possible here but is possible in palestine.

I think here you're just making an unprincipled carve out for yourself. Many Israelis have no more connection to where their ancestors are from than you have to where your ancestors are from, and some of their ancestors are from countries like Lebanon that obviously aren't going to take them. Aside from the fact that history has proven it's impossible to forcibly displace millions of people without horrific atrocities, you know from personal experience why the settlers and their descendants can't all just leave, and why it would be very difficult for them to just give the land back- have you given your land back, or pressured family who own land to return theirs? It's a genuinely difficult situation, because the historical wrongs of colonialism mean there's no way in the present to do right by everyone- there are multiple parties who need that land. So it's not reasonable to say that individual Israelis are evil for not returning their land- it's asking an enormous amount of them, and it's something you yourself probably would not do. That doesn't mean we should stop working towards land being returned, but it does mean Israelis shouldn't be viewed as complicit if all they're doing is participating in the society they grew up in, rather than trying to further the ideology of that society.

lol...

[jjjjisun]

Magic Remote (Part 2)

Ningning x Male OC | 16243 words

—

Buy me a Ko-Fi.

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Part 1 / Part 2

—

Jae had just returned home from a trip to the mall that had changed his life forever. He’d only had the ‘universal remote,’ as the old man at the strange gadget shop had called it, for a few hours now, but he knew that things would never be the same.

He had already seen it turn on any gadget, physically move matter, and the best yet, it seemed to be able to alter anyone’s mind that he chose. He had no idea exactly how it worked, and he suspected that its creator, the old man in the shop named Jim, might have left him a significant amount of catching up to do if he was ever to fully grasp its power. If he hadn’t accidentally screwed up meeting his friend at the mall, if he hadn’t happened upon that store… the more he thought about it the more the sheer luck of gaining possession of the remote astounded him. Jae always knew that his charisma and genuine interest in others would pay off, so he wasn’t surprised when he got on so well with the fellow computer buff in his shop. However, he didn’t expect Jim to give him something the likes of which the world had never seen.

And yet, here it was in front of him. The remote’s battery had entirely drained at the mall, just as Jim said it would if he asked too much of it. So when he used it to force a fitting room attendant to allow him to bring in and then fuck the brains out of the pretty girl Jim had used the remote to set him up with, it had taken quite a bit out of the remote. When he used it to remove all of Dahyun’s inhibitions, leading to a lustful and impromptu romp in the dressing stall, the remote promptly died. He’d have to be more clever about how he used it; he was beginning to understand the difference between nudging someone into a decision and forcing them. He had nearly been caught with the blonde beauty because of his impulsive use of the remote, and if he wasn’t careful, he could get into a lot of trouble.

He wondered what else he could do with the remote: control the weather, the stock market, an airplane, or a car? 'Holy shit,’ he thought, 'if it could spin a bunch of heavy displays around in circles as he’d seen Jim do at the store…what if he could fucking fly?’ His heart skipped a beat just thinking about it. It was all too much; he wondered if this was what they didn’t tell you about superheroes in comics or the movies, and he suddenly knew up close why it could be so easy for all-powerful beings to be consumed with their abilities and turn evil in a hurry.

His fantastical dreams were beginning to spiral out of control as his feet brought him over two miles from the mall to his home without realizing it. He looked at the beautiful blue sky, and the sun smiled back; it was a lovely day. He began to rein himself in and started to reason again. So far, he knew he could use the remote for straightforward commands that forced his immediate will on others. Still, being the smart guy he was, Jae started to postulate methods to benefit significantly in the long term without expending too much of the remote’s charge. Hell, he didn’t even know how to charge it just yet! (He hoped the port that looked so familiar on its bottom edge was meant to receive a USB cord.)

With all the possibilities rambling around in his head, he refocused on the one that had sent him heading home in a hurry - his sister. She was an absolute fox; there was no doubt about it. And all of her teasing, all of the scantily clad prancing around, and more importantly, the mistreatment she dealt him daily, was about to come full circle. At least that was what one side of him had decided. Looking down at the drained remote as he approached his home, he wondered if he could actually go through with it. After all, she was his sister - his own flesh and blood…" Fuck,“ he swore out loud, "family or not she was one of the most arousing sights he’d ever seen!’ So could he do it, could he use the remote on the hot, sexy brunette? He couldn’t just use the remote to demand that she bend over and accept the pounding he’d love to give her; he doubted the remote’s charge could handle something like that. But maybe he could accomplish some of his goals undetected.

Again, a light bulb went off in his head: 'undetected…’ Jae thought of the possibilities of stopping time with his newfound toy. It seemed ridiculous, but if a television remote could do it, why not this insanely infinite 4x10-inch box of possibilities? That way, he’d be undetectable and nobody would know the difference! By now, he’d reached his room and plugged the remote into the cord he usually used to charge his phone. At first, nothing happened, and as he finally felt his dazzled brain slow to silence in anticipation, he felt a happy calm spread over him. Sure enough, the screen’s backlight lit up and a charging symbol appeared. "This could take a while, and charge COMPLETELY before disconnecting,” it read below the icon; he heard it in Jim’s voice in his head.

Jae headed toward his bed and plopped down on it, trying to organize his thoughts. Always one to make lists to keep himself organized, Jae grabbed a pad of paper and said aloud -

“What do I want most?”

It was a good question. The remote’s charge was limited, so to achieve anything, he’d need to allocate its available charge to what mattered most. He really didn’t know for certain how much one activity versus another discharged it, but he put that off for now.

1 - Ningning. More than anything, he wanted Ningning. He tried to touch her, and to stop all the fruitless hours of enduring her teasing, her berating, and his inability to enjoy, but with his eyes, the unbearably hot body dressed in near nothing every day. 'How?’ he thought, 'well, I’ll come back to that.’

2 - Money. He’d always had an appetite for the latest tech, the best clothing, and expensive hobbies. Despite years of hard work and side jobs, he could only marginally fulfill those desires. He’d like to get his place someday, but since he was still in school, it hadn’t even occurred to him to do so. But if he could do anything he wanted, as the old man had said, he’d like to get his hands on some green. How much, what exactly would he do with it, and how would it go with his friends and family? Like his plans for Ningning, he’d also come back to the money.

3 - Self-Improvement - Could he use the remote on himself? It sounded dangerous, but what if it was as easy as typing “Learn about rocket science,” and then he was on his way to the moon. Somehow it had to be more complicated than that, but he looked forward to trying. At the very least, he’d love to shed a few pounds and pack on more muscle.

4 - More Ningning. Well, to be fair, there were plenty of women Jae wanted to get his hands on, although Ningning was one that every man alive who’d seen her had dreamed of fucking at least once. There were girls and professors at school, neighbors, and friends of his mother he’d frequently wished he could have his way with, and now he just might. He hadn’t even considered his mother; she was a looker herself. Having had her children young, Jae’s mom still took care of herself and had a nice lean body; he was frequently surprised at how enticing she looked in a bikini, granted, of course, that Ningning wasn’t already in range of his prying eyes.

That sums it up for now; It was amazing how simple it was when he organized it this way. He returned to the first point, intending to start formulating commands on Ningning when the remote, sitting on a table next to his bed, rang out three pleasant tones and began to boot up fully. After a minute or so, it was on and ready to go as he began to feel his pulse quicken again. As he exited the simple text-entry screen he had become familiar with, other screens appeared in a smartphone-style menu. One icon had a money sign, which he figured he’d be trying very soon; another had a tree icon, and he was curious, but his eyes quickly found the icon in the shape of a clock. Sure enough, when he opened it he recognized the controls as a setup very similar to the remote that controlled the television in his room.

Wondering what it would do, he thought, 'Well, there’s only one way to find out.’ So as he looked out the window at his sister, in a stunning black bikini that barely managed to cover her wonderful orbs and left the rest of her body for optical consumption, Jae pressed the button. “Here goes nothing,” he said in a wavering voice.

[Pause]

At first, nothing. He couldn’t tell if it was working. Everything looked the same. Yet, what did he expect would happen? He quickly jumped up to look at the clock on his desk. The second hand was stopped, but that wasn’t nearly enough for him to prove to himself that the universe had frozen around him. So he left the remote plugged into the wall, figuring it could maintain its course until he came back. Bounding down the stairs, two at a time, Jae hit the first floor and looked around. Wow, how hard could it be to tell if time had stopped? The television was frozen on the news frame, but he needed more. He headed outside to the backyard, where Ningning was floating in the pool.

“Ningning,” he called out to her.

“Ningning……Ningning are you there?”

He realized that she had headphones in and that could be the cause, although the water was eerily still; he started believing now that the universal remote was just as powerful as he had been led to believe. Walking over to his sister’s raft, floating only a foot or two from the edge of the pool, he tapped her on the shoulder. She didn’t react, and neither did the water beneath her. Time was stopped, and here was his unbelievably sexy sister in front of him. Should he do what he had always dreamed of?

It was almost comical how quickly he cast aside the morality of the issue and pulled Ningning’s raft toward him. The water beneath it moved but failed to ripple outward. ’ Strange,’ he thought. He’d have to do some experiments to see how this affected everything around him. But that thought quickly expired as he looked down at his 'paused’ sister. His fantasies were playing out before him, and he knew exactly what to do first.

He took both his palms and dropped them on top of her luscious breasts. His fingers gently depressed into them as he took in their size and suppleness. He could feel her nipples harden, and he nearly laughed out loud as they poked into his palms. His hardness pushed against his shorts fully now, and he kneaded his sister’s breasts, feeling the frustration seeping away at being deprived of this moment for years now. Time after time, he had seen them constrained behind tight shirts after tight shirts or bouncing in a bra as Ningning ambled down the stairs. That very morning, he had seen them restrained by a black lace number that couldn’t have extended past her nipples more than a millimeter as Ningning strolled around the second floor in that and her low-riding pajama pants, rolled twice at the hip.

He moved a hand to her abdomen, feeling that taut stomach that he had lusted after in her midriff-revealing shirts and low-riding jeans. The finger’s of his left hand were savoring the feel of her tit as his right played at her pierced belly button. A small jeweled clover hung from it; it was a detail he’d always loved about her amazing stomach: the way it gleamed at him when it caught just the right light. He didn’t miss a thing, feeling every square inch of skin he could touch. Stroking and massaging, he pawed at her and worked his way around her body, slipping a hand gently just beneath the waistband of her bikini bottoms.

But he wanted more, so he did the next natural thing he could think of: he reached under the raft to untie that amazing little bikini that she had on so he could reveal what he had never had the fortune of seeing: her tantalizing rack. Nearly trembling in anticipation as his hand squeaked against the plastic of the inflatable raft, he found the string of her top and pulled his hand out from beneath her. Pulling the string, he encountered resistance as her weight crushed the knot against the raft. He kept pulling slowly to draw out this fateful event as long as possible. Would her areolas be large or small, light or dark pink? Would her nipples be like a pencil eraser as he hoped? Would her naked breasts be everything he dreamt they’d be?

But something was wrong. Before his questions could be answered with even a peek of her naked body, he began to hear the slow drone of the air-conditioner cooling the house behind him, and the jets were quietly starting to dump fresh water into the pool once again. Jae panicked. The remote must not have been able to run infinitely even while plugged into the wall! But he had already untied his sister’s bathing suit, and God, he was so close. He wanted just to grab the top and pull it up, revealing Ningning’s impressive mounds to him once and for all, but things were picking up faster now, and even his lust couldn’t overcome the urgency of the situation. 'Oh no,’ he frantically worried; this was precisely the trouble he’d set out to avoid. But then the water beneath Ningning’s raft began to ripple, and it was all Jae could do to stand up and back away before the world burst back to life around him.

'Oh no, what would Ningning think?’ Blood was pounding through him so hard he could hear it as he feared he would be caught feeling up his older sister. He started to head back to the house in long strides, hoping to reach it before Ningning could realize what had happened…

“Hey!” Ningning yelled, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Jae looked back and saw her holding her sunglasses off her face, revealing her beautiful green eyes and staring him down with them, furious. Jae was sunk. She must have realized he’d had his hands all over her. How could he possibly correct this colossal mistake? He didn’t even have the remote with him. It seemed she saw right through him as he tried to approximate the backlash.

He looked back at her, stunned, as if to say, 'Who, me?’

“Yeah, you, dumbass, I’m looking at you. Did you untie my suit while I was asleep?”

He didn’t know how to respond. He was still speechless from the combination of having not only been feeling Ningning up seconds before, cupping her breasts firmly in his hands, but from the possibility of getting away with it as well. She seemed clueless to all but her unraveled suit, and he may have lucked out.

She didn’t take his pause well: “You are such a fucking pervert!” she shouted at him.

“Yeah, right,” he denied, regaining his composure. “As if I would want to see you like that; you’re probably all lopsided under there anyway.”

He had hurt her with that one. Ningning was a vain girl, to say the least, and she took a lot of pride in her appearance. Even though she knew he was just trying to distract her from the truth, she couldn’t help but glance at her chest to assure herself that he was wrong. Nope, her breasts were perfect - just as they both knew. Despite his efforts, Ningning was still convinced that her little brother had been trying to disrobe her.

“Oh yeah, okay, and so when you walked in on me in the shower today, you weren’t trying to catch me naked. It’s a good thing it was so steamy in there or you would have probably gone from six to midnight,” she said with a smug smile and a voice thick with superiority.

“YOU left the door open, and I had just woken up to go to the bathroom.” Jae retorted, “So fuck you!”

“You’d probably love to fuck me too wouldn’t you, Jae?”

Rather than respond, he just turned and trounced back toward the house; clearly, he would love that.

GOD, she was so frustrating; he found himself cursing the remote for not only depriving him of the chance to see his sister naked finally but for getting him into this debacle now, too. It was useless fighting with her; if he had still been at the mall, she’d probably blame him anyway, so he walked inside, shaking his head. Yet the feeling of her soft breasts and her solid abdomen was still fresh on his palms; he’d been with his fair share of girls, but he couldn’t remember a single one getting him quite so fired up. Everything was so flawless and soft in his hands, and he decided then and there that he would have to get his hands on more of her, even if he now had this new obstacle of Ningning suspecting him of foul play. And how quick she was to jump to the comment about the two of them fucking… the more he thought about it the more it confused him, she was probably just so pissed.

And despite his failure to do more than cup his sister’s mouth-watering tit, he realized the fact that the remote had at least partially worked. It couldn’t have carried more than 8 or 9 percent charge when he’d hit pause. And if that allowed him to touch his sister in a way he’d only dreamed of, in addition to forcing an erection upon him that now begged to be let free… There was so…so much left in store for him. What would he do with the remote now?

Of course, he considered rewinding time to stop Ningning detecting, or at least suspecting him of what was intended to be an undetectable event. But as he weighed the option, he decided that he’d likely be unable to rewind time far enough, especially with the remote in its once again discharged state. So, ascending the stairs to his room and heading back toward the window beneath his remote, Jae gazed out upon the bikini-clad beauty as she wiggled around trying to retie her top without falling into the pool. Her tits swayed gently from side to side beneath the triangles of cloth and he once again recalled the sweet softness of her breast in his hand.

He decided that would be the last time he acted out his desires with so little knowledge of the remote and even less thought about the results and consequences of his actions. Chances were, he wouldn’t be so lucky next time. He grabbed the small notepad with his list of priorities (he’d need to remember to hide it or take it everywhere) and opened it to a fresh page. How would he go about working the remote on his sister? She was always resistant to any displays of his affection toward her, yet willing to elicit them with her teasing and banter. She must have had feelings for him that extended beyond a simple sibling setting. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have put herself on display day in and day out; he’d even caught the naughty smile she carefully hid but occasionally revealed when she thought he wasn’t looking.

He began writing the first command.

[You will not think of Jae as your brother]

Too crude, he thought, that could have more effect on her than he intended. He crossed it out.

[The more you tease Jae, the less resistant you will find yourself to his reactions] [You will find yourself more willing to acknowledge any pleasure that teasing your brother brings] [You will practice less restraint in your seduction of Jae]

It seemed a bit scientific, but maybe that was how this thing worked. He might need to be much more specific with his commands. He noticed in writing what he already knew in his heart: He absolutely loved the way she teased him, even if he hated it at the same time.

[Jae will begin to seem like a viable partner] [As you consider Jae for mating, your concerns about being related to him will abate and then vanish]

He had to laugh at what he was writing now: viable partner, mating? He didn’t want to execute the scientific method with Ningning, he tried to bend her over and fuck her for all she was worth. Yes, he could admit that to himself now, after all the excitement that touching her had brought him and the instantaneousness of his decision to do it, there was no point in denying what he wanted. And he realized that these commands might be helpful to someone whom he didn’t have the additional bonus of years of pent-up sexual frustration toward. He couldn’t imagine prolonging this situation much longer; he wanted to take Ningning for himself as soon as possible, if not that very night. If the two of them had been sweet, innocent, loving siblings, it would be different, but Jae knew how he felt about Ningning, and he suspected that she was of a similar condition, whether she’d admit it freely or not.

He crossed out the two suggestions about mating out, but kept the first three about teasing. He liked what they promised later on. Now for the issue of sex…

[When you see Jae, you will feel the irresistible urge to…]

He laughed out loud, that was his penis talking and he knew it. He crossed it out immediately and continued to the next page.

[You believe that having sex with your brother is acceptable.]

Simple, but he liked it. This way, he wasn’t forcing her into anything, and he’d still have to do his share of work to make her want to have sex with him, just like any other girl. He thought Jim would be proud of him, curtailing the temptation to type something like [You will fuck your brother now and like it], that was of course, if he didn’t tell Jim that Ningning was his sister…

Looking down at the page, he read the commands he’d need to type into the remote back to himself. Satisfied with what he’d come up with, he looked to the remote again. One of the tabs had a small silhouette of a person atop it. He clicked i,t and it immediately revealed dozens of named thumbnails of women in what appeared to be chronological order. He recognized the picture of Dahyun at the top of the list and thought of how streamlined the device was in storing information this way. He scrolled down where there were dozens of thumbnails, maybe hundreds. Jim had been very busy indeed. He would have to check them out later. For now, he wanted to get these commands to Ningning and start collecting the fruits he expected them to bear. After typing them into the device and storing them under a new profile, he tried something on a whim.

[Go to Jae’s room now.]

It took him getting off the bed and pointing the remote at her out the window (the remote seemed to have a range), but the intensity bar he was now accustomed to seeing came into view on the screen. Jae determined that it would take too much charge at over 50% intensity until the button turned green. He considered going back out to her, and then:

[You believe Jae has your phone and is reading your messages in his room]

A victorious smile came upon him as he saw it took very little to get the “Enter” button to turn gray to green. He couldn’t stop laughing as she scrambled from the raft and angrily headed for the house, clearly out for blood. She didn’t even notice that she set her MP3 player on the table next to the phone she was after.

“Jae,” she yelled from downstairs. You better not be…" She mumbled the rest, and he could hear her taking steps two at a time.

Seconds later, there she was standing in his doorway, breasts heaving as she huffed and puffed her way into his room. He may have just held her breasts in his greedy hands, but as always, he was stunned by her as she walked into the room, especially with the great tan she was getting and the slight sheen of sweat the hot sun had given her.

“WHERE IS IT?” She tossed his things around now, throwing clothes to the floor and creating a mess as she searched his room when she didn’t see her phone on his person.

“What the hell are you looking for? And stop messing up my room, Ningning!” The smirk on his face was utterly unconvincing; she thought he was hiding it under his face.

“My phone! Give it to me.” She walked toward him, lying on the bed, and shoved a hand under his back. He could smell her sweet perfume, or maybe it was her shampoo. Whatever it was, the scent was amazing, and it was just a bonus, the excellent view down the valley of her breasts as she bent over to search roughly beneath him.

“Ningning, I don’t have your phone. Jesus!” she pinched him. “Look! I’ll call it,” he said, waving his own ringing phone in the air at her.

Through his open window came the telltale ring of some recent popular song on her phone, and he looked at her with the most pleased smile he could muster. She walked toward the window to ensure she was hearing correctly, strutting her half-naked body across the room again - something he’d never tire of. She was fuming after she realized he was right and turned back from the window to the door as he pointed the remote.

[Pause]

He was still stunned that Jim had somehow programmed the remote to be undetectable; nobody ever seemed to see it or him using it. He wondered what would happen if it died and someone saw him attempting to use it; surely its cloaking abilities would vanish. Still deep in thought, he stood up and walked toward his beautiful sister, hands on her hips and a sexy little sneer on her face; she HATED being wrong. He did a loop around her and checked her out up close. Her incredible rack hung differently now that she was standing, and he was tempted to touch her again; she’d have no idea. But something about her being so…helpless didn’t appeal to him. He’d enjoyed his first discovery of pausing time and the great opportunity it had given him to get Ningning in his hands. Still, he preferred her fully animated, even if it meant he would have to endure today’s bad attitude.

That reminded him to get on with what he’d brought her up here to do. He opened her profile, and with her in the room, a tiny blinking dot indicated that she was in range. Her picture even appeared on the remote now, and Jae prepared to enter his preset commands. One after another, he selected them and entered each one. All four commands entered without taking more than 25% of the charge the remote had accrued. It wasn’t a stretch for her; Jae understood the remote’s actions more as suggestions. He was bringing to the front of the mind something the subject may have already believed, so long as he thought through them carefully. Pleased with the success, he returned to the 'time’ tab and, for the first time, pressed

[Play]

The effect was immediate, Ningning snapped back into life, but momentarily seemed to lose her train of thought. It didn’t surprise him that tinkering in her head like he had at least triggered some kind of reaction. It was only a second, though, after all, he hadn’t but made it a little easier for her to do what she would have anyway; or at least he felt better saying that to himself. She looked around, bewildered for a second, before remembering where she was headed and out the door.

“Thanks,” she said unenthusiastically in response to him finding the phone she’d never lost in the first place. Even the tiny display of gratitude was a bit out of character when she was pissed at him. He wondered if the remote had already started working. 'Maybe?’ he thought.

Shortly after, their parents returned home from work with Jae’s little brother in tow, announcing that they were going out to dinner to celebrate his dad’s promotion. Jae wished he could bring the remote with him, but heeding the warning to charge it fully, he was forced to leave it behind.

As he, his father, and his brother watched TV, waiting for the two women to be ready, he reviewed the events of the day. Having their parents around kind of put a damper on things, so he thought back to priority number two: money and, more importantly, getting his own place.

When Ningning finally emerged and called to the boys, “Ready to go?” They all turned to see the girls standing in the foyer. Tightly wrapped around her body was a simple, light gray dress, clinging to her figure so that his mind struggled even to coerce his legs to move as he attempted to describe it to himself. It was entirely cotton and utterly devoid of any folds or designs, save the elastic hem that clung to her gorgeous thighs. It was meant precisely for the use Ningning was now modeling: showing off her incredible body without distraction. It was cut short enough that he could see most of her long smooth legs running endlessly up to an ass that he wished was in his lap that very second. Her hips, the abdomen he had recently been caressing with soft touches (he could even make out her piercing poking gently through it) and of course his favorite feature just below the plunging neckline were all on display. Jae saw his father attempting not to look between short phrases about 'getting going,’ and 'we’re going to be late.’ He wasn’t doing a perfect job of looking away, and he didn’t blame his dad one bit - he cursed his luck for not having the rest of the night alone to explore what lay beneath that form-fitting wonder of a dress.

As she walked out the door, the dress hugged her hips, and he could see it twist slightly about them. It wasn’t so tight that it slutty, it was just so perfectly packaging her sweet little body that it made his imagination run rampant. He had seen her not an hour ago in a little black bikini that revealed as much of her skin as he’d ever seen, and yet with the dress on, it was like his mind shorted out and could manage nothing but to dream of what lay beneath the snug, soft cotton. He resigned to thinking that was just how it was with Ningning; no matter what she did or how she looked, she always left you wanting more.

He was wondering how people in her classes or workplace ever got anything done when a sudden pressure against his groin jarred him to reality. As she wiggled into the car’s back seat, Ningning slipped backward, and the wedge heels she was wearing caused her to lose her footing. Or so it had seemed as her cotton-swathed behind made contact with him. But as she slid her cheeks downward a few inches along the cock she must have felt (could he be blamed for his swollen shaft considering his most recent initiative concerning Ningning - and what she was wearing) he wasn’t so sure it was an accident.

“Watch it, dick!” Ningning directed at him, looking back as she finally relieved the pressure and sat down in the middle seat.

“But I didn't…” Jae started to defend himself, reeling from the most forward action by Ningning ever.

“Language, Ningning!” her mother scolded. Although they weren’t children anymore, their mother still endearingly treated them like children.

He sure felt like he was a child, though with him and his two siblings packed into the sedan’s back seat, he hoped the promotion meant his dad would get a bigger car. Jae looked at his eighteen-year-old brother on Ningning’s left side - he was too caught up in his own social life and the girls he texted twenty-four hours a day to be affected by Ningning, focusing instead on whichever of his dorky friends was sending funny pictures to his phone. He considered that a blessing, because at the moment, he was feeling his arousal acting in response to the warmth of Ningning nestled between the two of them and the subtle fragrance of her lotion and perfume.

“This is unbearable back here!” Ningning called out toward her parents, “the seatbelts are poking me in the ass and these two are too fat for me to fit back here.”

Typical of Ningning to be complaining at any given time, Jae thought. What was for Ningning to turn to him and say:

“I can’t sit here for the fifteen minutes till the restaurant, let me sit on your lap.”

“No way,” Jae impulsively objected, “Why would I let you do that?”

“Mooooommmmmm,” Ningning whined. 'For god’s sake,’ he thought, 'she is almost in college, and she still cries to Mom when she wants something.’

“Just let her sit on your lap, Jae. ” His mom didn’t even look back. They were interrupting a conversation their parents were having.

Ningning looked at him triumphantly as she lifted her thinly covered backside out of the middle, placing a hand alarmingly close to his crotch as she steadied herself and turned around to sit down. It happened fast enough that he hadn’t nearly enough time to adjust himself and Ningning ended up straddling his dick - aimed directly down his leg and it had been swollen since the minute he’d first seen her in the house.

“And keep your hands to yourself, too,” Ningning said quietly enough that nobody made anything of it. Except Jae had seen the devious grin painted on her mouth, and he was admittedly worried about what was going on. This was the second time in two minutes that Ningning was going farther than she’d ever dared in her teasing of Jae. He’d left the remote at home to finish charging, assuming that his commands would take some time to come to fruition fully. But this was more than he’d planned.

Those thoughts crossed his mind before Ningning settled into his lap. Soon, he’d know there was something awry. As he sat there, begging his member not to cause him any further trouble, Jae was helpless to the sensation of Ningning’s warmth separated from him by only a few millimeters of clothing. And that dress, that fucking dress. The considerably high hem, which it wrapped elastically around her tanned thighs, was meandering its way further and further, revealing more of her sun-kissed skin. Stripper’s couldn’t ride his lap this well, and Ningning wasn’t even moving…

That was when he noticed the car ride wasn’t getting more turbulent. Ningning’s movement on his lap was increasing. There was no doubt in his mind. He began to worry when she started slowly flexing her cheeks and disguising movements with the car bouncing. She kept this up for a few minutes, and by the time they’d exited the highway, onto an excruciatingly less smooth road, Jae was as hard as he’d ever been and paralyzed with fear of discovery. Ningning had never so much as grazed him intentionally in passing, if that, and now she was practically giving him a lap dance.

“Dad, Jae’s poking me!” Ningning complained, feigning a move to the side as if he’d done it. Of course, that same naughty look on her face meant that she knew exactly what she’d meant even if her dad had not.

“For God’s sake, you too, learn to get along. What are you, 20 and 22 years old now or something?” Jae’s dad scolded. He desperately hoped his dad wouldn’t see what was going on between his two children in the back seat, and that he’d neglect to look back there for the remainder of the ride. Jae looked over at his brother, praying that he didn’t realize what was happening with his siblings either. He found it more complex and more challenging to believe that nobody was noticing because by the time Jae’s Mom announced that they were five minutes away he thought Ningning was going to just pull out his cock and fuck him. She was beginning to wiggle back and forth along his length and there was heat emanating from her hot little pussy directly into his pants.

He must have done something wrong. Somewhere, he’d pushed the wrong thing or made the wrong command. He thought over his list and racked his brain; he’d been so sure that the commands were subtle enough that nobody would notice. Ningning’s eyes flitted to his a few times, but they did not read any concern for their safety or secrecy.

“Ahh,” Jae let out unintentionally. Ningning had gone too far, she had slid forward just enough to reach back and grab his cock through his thin dress pants. “Ach-hem.” He tried to make it sound like a cough. Jae’s dad looked back at them only long enough to see Ningning motionless and smiling back at him innocently. He looked back at the road and listened to Jae and Ningning’s mom babble about work and other nonsense.

'Holy shit,’ her little fingers attempting to wrap around him through his pants were going to make him blow in his pants if they didn’t stop soon. Ningning, who was running her hand along his length now too, seemed to be deriving pleasure from the not-so-imperceptible gyrations on his knee. If she were any other girl he’d be pulling that dress down over her tits and pulling her back further into his lap then thrusting against her sweet heart-shaped ass. But she wasn’t any other girl; she was his sister, and just when he thought he couldn’t take another second, the car came to a halt, their little brother finally looked up from his phone, and Ningning promptly stopped her lusty kamikaze game.

Shifting his cock in his pants and tucking it under his waistband, he looked around to see if any of his family members knew what had just happened. Their looks told him they were as yet unaware, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He was safe, for now. But this was too much. He was torn. Ningning was so incredibly sexy in that simple gray dress that he could have fucked her right there in the car, but NOT with his family there. How had Ningning not even thought that far? She seemed intent on getting off and teasing him to the point of orgasm, no matter what it meant. Nothing of the commands he’d planned had that as their desired or intended effect.

When they got to the restaurant, Jae scrambled to take a seat away from Ningning, for fear that she might try to jerk him off under the table or something of that nature. He knew he’d come way too fast after her antics in the car and couldn’t risk being caught by his family. Not that he didn’t spend the majority of the two hours staring at her cleavage as she did her best to display it to him, or cringe as he watched her flit her tongue over any food that was even remotely cylinder-shaped. She was so entrancing that he’d hardly touched his food when he got up to go to the bathroom.

Splashing water on his face, he looked in the mirror and commanded that the man that stared back at him get a hold of himself. Yet, despite the stress she’d been putting him under with her antics, he looked his usual ruggedly handsome self. Now, he hadn’t forced her to want him, which she had done alone. Having taken off the restraints of siblinghood, Ningning seemed to be showing that if he hadn’t been her brother for the last few years, she’d have been doing a lot more than walking around in her bra to spark his interests, and that pleased him beyond belief. As he reached for the door to let himself out, it opened before he could do so followed by a determined-looking Ningning.

“What’s the matter, baby bro, do you have something on your mind?”

She pushed him against the wall and sniffed like a game-cat at its prey. He looked around to be sure they were alone. Her body pressed against his, and she put a hand on his big chest.

“What has gotten into you, Ningning? You can’t do this, Mom and Dad…” Jae protested, feeling his reservations weaken as she straddled his leg and pressed snugly against him, closing the remainder of the gap. Now he could feel every part of what the dress so seductively hid, and his heart rate began to hasten.

“Since when did you become such a little girl. Don’t pretend you aren’t enjoying yourself.” Her hand moved to his solid shaft again as she squeezed him, proving her point.

“You are going to get us caught. Besides, just this morning you were acting like I was the most disgusting guy you’d ever seen.” Now that he’d regained himself, Jae took his sister by the shoulders and spun her towards the wall, throwing his weight against her as she contacted it with a soft thud.

“I didn’t hear you complaining in the car when you were practically impaling me through your pants with that thing,” Ningning said back, seeing her brother looking down at her face and then further to the deep cut in her dress between her breasts. She took one of his hands in hers and ran it up her body, clearly enjoying the sensation before she stopped their journey on one of her luscious tits. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

He could have lost it right there, her dress was now riding up so high from the two of them gently grinding their pelvises together that a few more inches and he’d find out if she were wearing panties or not. But something in his head told him this was not the way he wanted her. She teased him to no end, and given his command, she may have even considered going further, but this was something else. No matter how he spun it, he knew that something was wrong. So he withdrew slowly from her grasp, backing away in a superhuman display of willpower.

“What the fuck…?” she questioned him. The look on her face was one of anger, for being deprived of release and for Jae’s second thoughts, and one of hurt - she’d not once in her life been rejected by any man and this was her brother, someone who’d been begging to get anything and everything she had to offer for years.

“Ningning, I want to, I just… we can’t do this here, like this.” He tried to explain, but the words didn’t come quickly enough to his head.

Ningning looked as stunned as he did when she first grabbed him in the car. For the first time, she was speechless, which caught Jae off guard.

“Come on, be reasonable! Look where we are.”

“Haha,” she laughed sarcastically, shaking her head in disbelief, “I thought I was being reasonable, giving you what you’ve been begging me for years! And you know what, I think I’ve changed my mind too then…”

She walked toward him slowly. The backs of his thighs ran into the vanity as he retreated, afraid of what she might do. She surprised him when she didn’t hit him or scold him any further. She just stopped when she was gently standing against him and took his hands in hers. She looked right up into his eyes; he could not read the intention in them at all. Turning his palms face up, alternating between watching their hands and gazing back into his eyes with her vibrant green ones, she placed both hands on her abdomen. She slid them slowly up the soft cotton that covered her smooth curves below until they finally stopped atop her breasts, her fingers curling around his to encourage him to support their weight in his palms.

Time seemed to stand still without the remote’s assistance. Jae was lost in her gaze and the unexpected turn of events. After what seemed like an eternity, she finally spoke after standing on her toes and pressing her lips to his ear.

“And this…” She caught his gaze and flicked her eyes down to where his hands held the perfect orbs up slightly from their resting place in their cotton cocoon. He could never get enough of this feeling.

“Will never happen again.”

She left him standing in the same position, holding handfuls of air and a mind racing with regret. His jaw dropped. Just like that, she gave him everything and then took it away.

He couldn’t delay returning to his seat any longer, so he struggled to put on a look that didn’t indicate he’d just been struck by a bus and sat down among his family. Ningning acknowledged him with a casual smile and went on in conversation with her dad about the job she was about to start in a few weeks.

This insane rollercoaster of feelings had to stop, and Jae decided not to make rash decisions until he got home and found out what he’d done wrong on the remote. However, the extreme change of pace made him feel hollow, wanting to feel Ningning’s touch or her gaze or the teasing she was almost always engaging in. She didn’t so much as acknowledge with a glance what had transpired in the bathroom, and both the meal and the cold, empty ride home (Ningning convinced her mom to sit in the back and talk about 'girl stuff’) were an awful slap in the face. He hated himself for being careless with the remote again. Hadn’t he learned his lesson the first time with Ningning after pausing time to feel her up? Hadn’t he said he’d never decide to leave himself so exposed without the remote again?

When he got home, he immediately headed to his room, where he found the remote charged and waiting for him where he had left it. He whipped open her profile and scanned it for whatever had gone wrong. He was flicking his finger down the list when he realized he could scroll down the page. The command lines were not the only settings in each profile.

The problem had to be among a bunch of default settings Jim had made to be checked or unchecked. There were boxes for the time of day for commands to take effect and for types of sexual activity to automatically engage in, and then he found it.

Under the category listed “Fetishes,” were a few that Jim wanted checked automatically. 'Wow,’ Jae thought, 'he must have been around to set women to act the way he wanted by default.’ Sure enough, the boxes tagged [Exhibitionism] and [BDSM - Dominant] were checked and at 50% intensity.

Jae didn’t know whether to be angry at the remote or to feel lucky that he’d been dealt only as badly as he now was. He pressed hard on the unchecked button, not that he needed to, but he was frustrated and irrationally thought he’d take it out on the remote. They didn’t uncheck anyway because Ningning was downstairs watching a movie and not in range. 'Damnit Jim,’ he thought with his worries about Ningning and what he’d done to her beginning to melt away.

He walked down both flights of stairs to the basement, where Ningning sat in the dark, still in her dress and covered in a blanket. It seemed he’d really messed with her feelings, and she was coping now; she never really went in the basement because she didn’t like it down there in the cold darkness.

“I hope you aren’t planning on staying down here with me,” Ningning said without looking at him as he stepped off the last stair.

“Ningning, wait…”

“Nope, we have nothing to talk about.”

Jae decided that he couldn’t fix this situation without the remote. He promised himself he’d not rely on it like this all the time, but for now, his inexperience with it had gotten him in too deep, and he needed to use the remote to fill the hole he’d dug with it. He unchecked the two problems in Ningning’s profile, but now he had to work on her attitude.

[You will not remember being denied by your brother this evening or your corresponding anger]

Yeah, that would probably take care of it. He pressed the green button. It sapped 53% of the power from the remote immediately! Jesus, he knew it was necessary, but she was going to hold on to that if he hadn’t commanded her not to - it was easier to pause time! He thought that was probably enough, but knowing that Ningning’s sexual forwardness tonight toward him had been artificial as well:

[You will not remember any instances tonight of touching Jae sexually or any feelings of dominance or exhibitionism]

That was fair, too. It took about 25% of the power from the remote to carry out—22% left.

[You remember sitting on Jae’s lap and enjoying it]

22 % left. Jae couldn’t help but beam with pride at that one. He thought he was about done when one more happy thought popped into his head.

[If you desire to masturbate when Jae leaves, you will do so and have a powerful and satisfying orgasm] [You will have a very restful night’s sleep and dream peacefully until morning]

10% left. He honestly wanted to make up for the pain he’d caused her tonight and the meddling in her brain he’d done to cause it to go so wrong. “Are you going to sit down and keep me company or just stand there?” Ningning looked at him with a cute look of testiness. To her, he’d just been standing there idly for a few minutes now. He sat behind her on the couc,h and she lay her head back on his shoulder. This was one of the few times they got on exceedingly well, when nobody was around to see. Everything was back to normal.

“Eyes on the TV jackass,” she told him off.

'Yep, everything was definitely in its proper place,’ he thought, smiling.

Her eyes caught the light of the TV, glinting at him as she looked up from her perch on his shoulder. The soft light dramatized the curves of her body, still bound by the enveloping cotton. He thought of staying, of seeing if he could end the day on a higher note, but the remote was on its last leg, as was Jae after the trying day, so he bid his sister goodnight and left her to finish her movie alone.

“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out,” Ningning said, pleased with herself. I love you!“ she sarcastically added.

He knew from the sideways grin that she had meant it, but it didn’t change that he’d have to go back to being constantly plagued by her teasing and snide remarks the next day. It was a small price; tomorrow, he knew he’d have to work out a way to give her what she deserved or he would pop. He’d figure it out; for now, he could only think of getting some sleep and dreaming about what lay in store for him. As he ascended the stairs, he remembered something and paused mid-climb. Some sounds of rustling came around the corner, and after less than a minute, a soft but undeniable moan made its way to his ears. It was enchanting and authentic, the sounds of her touching herself so. His mind conjured up images of Ningning pulling the hem of her dress up (not that it had very far to go) and stroking her fingers softly across that little slit of hers. He couldn’t wait to have the opportunity to be there too… 'Soon,’ he thought, 'but for now - good for her.’ Ever the one to be looking out for his sibling, even if she’d likely return to being a total bitch the next day, he silently wished her a happy orgasm and left her to herself finishing his ascent up the stairs without a sound. He slept soundly that night, the quiet buzz of his charging remote lulling him to sleep.

When he awoke, he felt ready to attack the day, having slept off the ups and downs of a dramatic and action-packed day. He stood up out of bed and walked over to his huge window overlooking the pool in the backyard. Ningning had been up for over an hour and had slid into what was, in his opinion, the most amazing bikini she owned. It was a very petite, elementary, and erotic number - woven with thick, soft cords of rope just the right off-color white with a tiny bit of skin showing through each weave. It accented her tanned skin perfectly, and it was smaller than most of her others, letting him see plenty of it. The cups simply didn’t contain her awesome mounds, with bits of them spilling out and creating more jaw-dropping cleavage. At the nipples, the weave tightened, perfectly concealing what lay beneath. In it, she was laid on a lounge chair, twisted about, the sun praising her with its warm rays.

Entranced by his sister’s body - gently swelling with slow, relaxed breaths, Jae unzipped his pants and pulled out his throbbing member. He doubted that it had fully softened since he decided to use the remote on Ningning, not that it ever really did when she was around. He envisioned himself pressing Ningning’s soft, plump pillows together, still loosely covered in her bikini and sliding his shaft between them, the rope strand that precariously joined the cups grazing him as he did. His hand worked over his shaft, and he imagined that it was Ningning’s, her pampered and soft hand gently working him into a frenzy as she had in the car the day before. Not that she would remember it, the remote had ensured that. He had no idea that she was aware of him watching her, and so he thought himself utterly lucky when she dove swiftly underwater only to emerge dripping wet and arching her back as she ran her hands over her silken, drenched hair. Continuing their trail down her neck and shoulders, her hands grasped lightly at her breasts. She delicately squeezed them together and then ran them down her strong abdomen; Jae let out an audible gasp. Finally, she waded over to the edge of the pool and thrust herself out, her breasts so terrifyingly close to falling out of her bikini as her arms thrust them together and she lifted herself from the pool.

Jae was clueless to the pleasure that she was currently deriving from the teasing, thinking that he had simply caught her at an unbelievably good time. The sinful assumptions they both formed were making each of them hornier than ever, and when Ningning turned from him and reached for the tie in her top Jae nearly spilt his seed against the window. Angled just right so he couldn’t take in an entire tit nor the puffy nipple atop it, his sister laid down on the lounge chair in front of her. As she extended herself face-down on the towel, Ningning’s breasts mashed against the lounge, and she quickly pulled away the suit beneath. Seeing her lying out below him and watching her adjust her topless body, wiggling this way and that, was too much for him. Jae came in strands, one after another, all due to the captivatingly seductive vixen below, his very own sister.

Regaining his composure and quickly cleaning himself up, Jae focused clearly on what he’d promised himself the night before. Today was the day. He had done his homework, putting commands in place to get Ningning on the right track. But what now? He had already decided not to force his will upon her, simply because he wanted things to happen naturally. Maybe it was the cloudiness of sleep not yet gone or his insatiable appetite for his sister not yet fulfilled, but no strokes of brilliance were coming. He decided to explore the remote a bit. He’d certainly started to get the hang of it now. Of course, there was the tab for moving and controlling objects, and one for implanting new skills - he couldn’t wait to take that one out for a spin… or a swim. 'Heck,’ he pondered, 'why not try now?’

He hadn’t yet used the remote on himself, so when he opened up the tab with a swimmer icon on it, pointing it at himself and choosing the butterfly stroke, it was an eerie feeling. He clenched his eyes shut and pressed the button, believing he could be tempting fate with his attempt. Nothing. He hardly believed that it had worked, so, wanting to test it out, he headed down to the pool. Stopping at the door partly to prepare himself for the sight of his sister and partly to prepare for what he intended to accomplish today, Jae gazed out at Ningning. He stepped through the threshold, a remote securely strapped to his arm.

"Seriously, Jae, it’s only 10 am and you’re already being a pervert?” Ningning was on him the second he was in earshot. “Yeah, I do have eyes, crazy right, because I swear if someone asked, you wouldn’t know I had anything but breasts.”

“Seriously, Ningning,” he replied mockingly, “It’s only 10 a.m., and you’re already being a bitch? Wait, never mind. I forgot that was a 24/7 gig for you.”

He walked right past her and jumped into the pool, being sure to splash his sister as he did. He immediately took to the water and found that the second he tried to do the butterfly stroke, his muscles moved like they’d been doing it for years, and he propelled himself through the water from one end to the other in no time. His newfound talents did not go unnoticed by Ningning, who feigned sleep while watching Jae’s muscles ripple as he glided through the pool. Both brother and sister were shocked, and Jae was proud, so he punched a few more swimming techniques into the remote and, before long, was unintentionally giving Ningning a real show.

The remote’s commands from yesterday are now taking effect. As she watched him, thinking that his sinewy shoulders and rugged abs were something she’d like to get her hands on, Ningning began to moisten. Usually, she’d shrug off such a thought, reminding herself that he was her little brother and pretending she was disgusted. But the remote had taken care of that roadblock, the most important of all. The resistance toward her brother she’d previously felt was now alleviated, and thoughts of him entered her head and refused to leave. As her arousal pushed her imagination further, she started thinking of what other things she might do with an attractive guy like Jae, not that she’d ever tell him.

Finished marveling at his new abilities, Jae looked over at Ningning, whom he’d seen staring at him when she thought he wasn’t looking the few times he came up for air. This was new: Ningning gawking at him. His heart skipped a beat - maybe the remote was finally working, letting her fantasize about him rather than quickly writing him off in denial and disgust. Once again, a light bulb in Jae’s head brought him another prime opportunity. 'If this remote can do anything…’ he thought, 'could it read Ningning’s mind?’

Clicking upon the icon in the shape of a thought bubble, he found that it pulled up only the one single green button. Pointing it at Ningning, he entered it:

[Read]

He honestly did not know what to expect, so he was taken aback when images began to flash across the screen. It wasn’t like watching TV, some images came and went before ever describing her thoughts or coming into focus. Others were clearer: the first couple of clear pictures were of shoes - how surprising. Then it lingered slightly longer on a sweating glass of cold iced tea. Next, Jae saw his face flash across the screen, and then hold for a second. A faceless man of a well-built stature swam impressive strokes in a blurry pool of water. He believed now that the remote was rendering her thoughts, however discombobulated and stream-of-consciousness they might be. It was brilliant, he could know whatever someone was thinking simply by pointing the device at them and pressing a single green button. He noticed, however, that the percentage points of battery were ticking away fast enough for him to watch the battery count down - about 1% every six or seven seconds.

After images of her brother remained for a few seconds longer, each one in the same dream-like rendering, things became more real. Vivid memories of Ningning sitting on his lap in the car and Ningning gyrating to the bumps and jolts of the car came into view. Then Jae recognized himself moving in a point of view style in a way he could only describe as…sex. Was Ningning imagining having sex with her brother at this very moment? Ningning had been pushing the envelope with her brother, but these fantasies of Jae were altogether different. The blurred images of the perceived incestuous activity remained for a few seconds before the screen returned to useless pieces of clothing, best friends’ faces, and some pop culture concepts.

Jae got out of the pool deep in thought and did not notice Ningning watching him off and on the entire time. He headed into the house to fix himself something to eat and formulate the next stage of his plan. Jae could hardly believe what he’d seen. If he was right, it meant that Ningning might be easier to persuade and his plan would be taking form any time now. Snacking on this and that, and pouring himself and Ningning a glass of the iced tea she was dreaming about, Jae headed back out of the kitchen toward his beautiful sister in the same position he’d left her.

His cock was somewhat hard from fantasizing about Ningning and her perceived dreams of being fucked by her brother, so it wasn’t hard to make out the form of his penis through the polyester stretched over it. He was a reasonably impressive 8 inches. Jae walked out the door and once again took in the sight of his sister’s topless body from the side, quite obviously at that.

Seeing him ogling her, Ningning started: “Come back for mo…” but she cut off suddenly as she looked over at Jae and her eyes fixed upon the taught fabric over his inflated manhood. This was undoubtedly out of character for her, openly fixating on her brother instead of the other way around. Jae could only assume that his plan was working, and his excitement was welling inside him.

“What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?” The tables had finally turned, and Ningning could barely take her eyes off him long enough to respond. Even then, it was only when he jumped in the water that she could no longer see his package against the trunks.

“No…I was…” A stutter was so uncharacteristic of his overly-confident sister that he nearly laughed out loud. “Just thinking how you were ruining my alone time.” Ningning finally managed. There was no doubt in his mind that the remote had worked wonders. He could only imagine what kind of things he’d be seeing if he had the remote read her mind now.

Setting his drink down, he hopped in the pool and felt the cool water against his skin. He once again brought up the display on the remote (the old man who had given it to him told him it was waterproof.)

Ningning was primed and thinking about sex, he knew that when she had gotten so derailed by the sight of his cock. Up until that point, she had done a fantastic job of keeping the attraction she encouraged with all her teasing one-sided. And that was no easy task for any girl because Jae actually did a fairly impressive job of staying in shape; Ningning showed remarkable dedication by pretending not to notice his big shoulders or sculpted abs. Not this time though, she had been staring right at him and he could practically taste the tension in the air as her eyes took him in, namely his enlarged pole.

Wanting to have a bit of harmless fun, Jae pointed at Ningning,

[stimulate vagina]

Again, the green button arose, accompanied by a bar tagged “duration” and one that, as always, indicated intensity. He set it to the lowest time, only a second, and the intensity more than halfway, and let it fly. He almost laughed out loud when Ningning jolted, face down on the lounge, and was quite confused. Had her bikini shifted against her pussy? She looked around to ensure it wasn’t her brother; no, he was just wading in the shallows. She put her head back down on the lounge. God she was sensitive, she thought, and cringed at the thought that it was her brother’s fault and that big cock he had stuck in her face.

With a big grin, Jae turned up the duration and hit the go button. For about five seconds, Ningning quietly squirmed on the lounge, resisting the urge to moan aloud or to reach down and touch her aching pussy. She knew she had to be extremely horny to be reacting like this, and she desperately hoped her brother was unaware of her state. Of course, he was not, and he turned up the duration and intensity again before Ningning could regain her thoughts, watching her intently as he did. This time, Ningning’s back lifted off the lounge, and she cooed loud enough for Jae to hear.

“What was that, Ningning? Are you doing something over there?” Jae said with so much satisfaction, “because that sure sounded like a…”

“Shut up, you ass,” Ningning responded indignantly, cutting him off “I just knew you’d ruin my afternoon.” Ningning got up and headed for the house, strategically covering her breasts with her arms. She hadn’t even had time to grab her top as she hurried inside, her pussy still tingling. She intended it to make him feel guilty, but she really had to go in for fear that she’d cum in front of her brother if she didn’t get out of there soon. God, why was he having this effect on her all of a sudden? The image of his big, hard cock flashed through her head as she leaned against the kitchen counter - maybe it had something to do with that.

Jae watched his sister as she hopped up and scampered into the house. he was laughing outright now, a sincere happiness and joy washing over him at the success of the remote. Ningning was now horny, thinking about fucking her brother, and stimulated. He’d played it just right, using Ningning’s own desires and insatiable need to tease her brother in combination with the remote’s influence - its abilities were exactly as the old man described. There were no limits to how far he could go with it, though as he saw Ningning’s body from the side, the sweet swell of her breast covered by her arm and jiggling as she padded toward the door, he certainly knew how far he wanted to go with her.

Waiting for his sister to come back out (he was far from satisfied with what he’d done to her) Jae played around with the remote. He turned the pool’s temperature down a few degrees and cleaned off the bottom of the pool with just a few taps. More importantly, he aimed the remote at his sister’s bikini top, left behind, and ordered the remote to summon it. It quickly flung toward him and into his outstretched arm. “34D,” he read out loud, “very nice.” He was grinning from ear to ear.

Ningning stood in the house for a few minutes, rethinking her situation. She’d left her phone and book, headphones and even her top outside so she’d have to go back out, fearing something more might happen to her with her brother and that big dick of his around. Then, she snapped back to reality. She was in control of HIM, not the other way around. He was the one constantly pining to see her naked or getting hard when she gave him even the slightest peek. No, she would not let him keep her from sunning in her own backyard, so she stomped back out the door towards her chair.

Ningning saw him looking at it, just missing it mysteriously fling across the span of fifteen feet from the lounge to his hand. He had her top now and the look on her face made her all the more angry.

“Give it back Jae, give it back right now,” she was pissed and sexually frustrated, not a good combination for keeping one’s cool.

“Why don’t you come and get it?” He challenged her and then made his best orgasm face he could, mocking her with a few moans as she had just a few minutes ago.

“This isn’t funny, quit being a dick or I’ll tell mom and dad you tried to see my tits.” Ningning fired right back. It was a valid threat; his parents hearing about this would not be good. He knew he could probably prevent it with his remote, but he took the easier route and simply tossed the little scrap of clothing back to her. He did, however, throw it strategically so that she had to bend down toward the pool, revealing even more of her hidden mounds and lithe body. As she unintentionally posed, bent at the hips and causing his shaft to fill with blood once again, he wound up for his next move.

Jae doused Ningning with a wave of water that brought a shriek of discomfort from the topless and furious brunette. She stood up almost instantly, and Jae prayed she would lose grip on her chest, but she was aware enough to grab her top while continuing to cover and quickly tie it up, once again concealing her perfect orbs beneath before Jae could gaze upon them. As she worked the strings in her nimble fingers, Jae sent another wall of water crashing over her, and before he knew it, she had leapt into the water and tackled him backwards.

He quickly regained his footing, holding her back around the ribcage and hip as she attempted to wrap her arms around his torso to gain leverage somehow. She almost slipped his grasp and brought him under before he maneuvered her back to arms’ distance apart. Admiring the way her breasts heaved and swayed in the water, he continued to battle her bac,k and she reached for his trunks. Her fingers grazed his cock more than once, and with considerably less ambiguity each time. She had often tried to pants him before, but this time he suspected she may have had some ulterior motive. As he reached underwater to hold her back, he got an entire handful of her breast, and when she came back up, she gave him an offended look.

“Did you like feeling my tit, I know you did it on purpose asshole.” she sneered at him. He had, and he wanted more, but he wasn’t about to tell her that.

“I might have if there was anything there to feel,” he retorted. Though Ningning knew he was lying through his teeth, she hated him for getting the last word. 'Oh no,’ she thought as she looked through the water in front of her, there was Jae’s hardness again, enlarged as ever.

The pool did somewhat conceal it, but there was no getting around the fact that his cock was struggling against his already thin trunks, now partially transparent in the water. Ningning was noticeably distracted by his tented and transparent trunks as she fought to gain control over him. Her momentary lapse allowed him just enough to maneuver her 180 degrees and to bear hug her from behind. He wished he could take both her breasts in his hands right then and there, but decided against it, already sufficiently aroused by her barely clothed form smashed against him.

“Let me go, mmmph, you bastard,”

She still writhed in his arms attempting to get free, but both of them quickly felt Ningning’s sculpted ass pressing back against her brother’s hardness. He had her now, Jae’s use of the remote and his successful seduction had had her jumping into the pool to get this all along, whether she knew it or not. He could feel his sister’s combative maneuvers decrease in fervor, and instead, he detected her hips pushing harder against his submerged pelvis. Any onlooker would know now that they were not just horsing around in the pool; the brother and sister were now locked in a battle of wills and arousal.

Whether Ningning had admitted it to herself, she was now bending to her brother, or was he bending to her? It was unclear; with her thinly covered ass grinding into him, his cock telling her how bad he wanted her, neither brother nor sister could make heads or tails of the situation. They both lost track of how their little scuffle had started, and Ningning struggled to conceal her true purpose, now feebly attempting to escape his hold while forcefully shoving her cheeks against him.

“Look who wants it now,” Jae chanced saying into her ear, nipping at it as he did,

Ningning couldn’t stop her thrusting, but she could also feel her competitive ego damaged by his declaration of victory. She could sense his arms wrapped tightly around her, forearms pressing her chest together so it spilled out around all sides of the bikini. Unbound by formalities any longer, Jae deftly moved his hands to her breasts and grasped them as she arched her back to continue gyrating angrily against his hard pole. He first mashed his fingers against them, over the sexy bikini he loved so much, and then thought, 'been there, done that!’ So he quickly slid his hands under the bikini to the long-awaited prize. Though he couldn’t see them from his position behind her, the combined feeling of Ningning’s nipples poking into his palms and the hard friction she was creating underwater was outrageous. He couldn’t believe how round and supple they were - how hard her nipples were as he moved his fingers to pinch them between his thumb and forefinger. He pinched them hard to return the favor for all her frustrated humping and thrusting thus far. Ningning was breathing more heavily now, still not wanting to moan out and give him the satisfaction of knowing how much she was enjoying this.

She even loved the feeling of his rough, manly hands having their way with her breasts, knowing he had been lying before… knowing he had worshiped them for years. He sank his fingers into every inch of their expansive flesh, and she moaned out involuntarily as he pinched her nipples hard. She could feel him clearly taking her nubs between his fingers and prying at them, eliciting a bit of pain and so much pleasure. Something about being a part of fulfilling her little brother’s long-time fantasy was thrilling; her wanton hole moistened at the thought. Wanting her to be free of the sexy bikini top, Jae let go just long enough to untie her from behind, but Ningning didn’t intend to remain so completely under his control.

Taking the opportunity, she spun around forcefully in his arms, the bikini unraveling as he held the final string in his hand.

Her chest came into view, and the breasts he’d had in his grasp were everything he’d dreamed they’d be. Utterly perky and proud, topped by a small pink areola and a nipple as big as a pencil eraser, as he’d thought-no, bigger. He looked down her taught midsection once again and to the beautiful swell of her hips. He hooked a finger in her bottom, pulling her towards him; he could tell that she was shaved. He wanted to delve further, to touch her sweet pussy, to taste it and to get inside of her as soon as possible.

Looking down between them, Ningning reached forward to grab Jae’s now granite-hard cock. Her fingers grazed over it, teasing him once again, and Jae instinctively moved forward to try and get more of himself into her grasp.

“Remind me who’s trying to fuck who again,” Ningning directed smartly as she withheld fully taking hold of his cock as he desperately wanted her to.

Teasing him was all fine and good, but Ningning needed to maintain their humping and the stimulation of her needy clit or she thought she’ go crazy. Shoving him back toward the very edge of the pool, Ningning’s legs pulled at her brother’s thigh greedily and he offered it forward to her. Both brother and sister began to drive against each other, Ningning’s initially angry thrusts melting away into purely animalistic ones.

She began to moan, “ohhhh… you fucking asshole…I can’t believe I’m letting you…mmmph” She was unable to contain herself now, unable to hide the pleasure she was deriving from this sudden change of heart toward her brother.

What had gotten into her? Why had it come to this, let alone with the brother she always teased but never dared to go further with? And yet, his body, his demeanor, and his lust for her were so undeniably hot, how had she missed it? Was she going to fuck him, because it sure seemed to be going that way and she couldn’t imagine now gathering the strength to stop it. No matter what was going on in her head, Ningning’s body demanded that she keep seeking the sweet release that grinding her sensitive pussy against her brother was offering her. Jae’s cock worked its way along her back and forth gyrating, making contact with her little hole, still covered in bottoms due to their haste.

“Jesus….Shit that’s big… I want it so bad…..soon,” she was so far past pretending now, “keeping going… just like that, ohhh….fuckkkkk.” she let out in a string of dirty talk and moans that made Jae’s head spin as she felt his cock against her.

Jae still couldn’t believe just how well the remote had worked. A day or two ago, she was laid out with her breasts peeking out of some ridiculous clothing, taunting him with what he’d never have. Now he was watching his this fuckable brunette, topless and begging for his cock, hump with reckless abandon. He was far from complaining, in fact he was trying to document everything that happened down to the last detail, from her smooth, soft legs against his to the lack of tan-lines on her breasts or the way her hair was in an perfect messed up bunch on her head. He suddenly hoped the remote had a replay button, though he prayed this was not the last time he’d have his sister, begging be fucked, in his arms.

After many long moments of their lustful, aggravated attempts to get off, Jae took his sister firmly by the hips and lifted, setting her ass on the edge of the pool. He wasted no time with her bikini bottoms, untying them and whisking them off of her in one swift motion. Similarly, he felt no patience to deprive her right then, and instead plunged forward stopping only for a few teasing kisses before sucking her clit into his hungry mouth. She tasted delicious, the fresh water from the pool mixing with the sweetness of her tight little hole. He flicked his tongue quickly across her clit for a minute or two before he drove his tongue down into her tunnel and brought a finger there to meet it. Plunging it in and out, he coupled the diving of his finger with that of his tongue and he quickly brought Ningning to a panting and gasping state. Hearing her approaching orgasm, he found it a perfect time to stop and teach her a lesson for all her teasing, or at least beginning to. Ningning tugged at his hair, hopelessly at his whim and begging for him to continue,

“Please don’t stop….oh please, keep going just like that…just don't…ever…stop” and when he did, “uhhhhhhhgh,” a frustrated yell “FUCK YOU.”

“You deserve every bit of this,” he snapped. She knew he was right, she truly had been teasing the shit out of him for years now, but she intended to start making up for it now.

Ningning urged her brother out of the pool beside her, spreading a towel under their knees on the hard ground. She looked at him, the frustration and lust of their initial coupling transforming into something different. It was still lust, undoubtedly that, but it now had a hint of…intense longing…attached. Staring deep into each other’s eyes, both matching a hazel-green from their mother, Ningning pulled Jae toward her with hands in his hair. Their lips met, and a whole new sensation, a loving wave of warmth crawled through their bodies. Tongues danced and eyes flickered, occasionally catching the other’s as they opened after long closed periods of simply taking in each other’s presence and the gentle caress of lips. Jae held himself up on one arm and the other roamed over his sister’s naked form. It stroked listlessly all of those features he’d so idolized, feeling each one from her smooth abdomen to the perfection of her face. Even their legs locked around each other, struggling to make more contact, to secure each other in a desperate embrace.

Their kisses picked up in lust and need, signaling that they’d both had enough of apologizing for prior mistreatment. Ningning once again grabbed for Jae’s cock and found that he had not deflated a bit. The feeling of her hand wrapping around his cock again jolted him back to reality, reminding him how long he’d been dying to get inside of her. He took his sister’s neck in one hand and urged her backwards, laying her down against the sun-warmed concrete. The sensation was incredible, Ningning sandwiched between it and her brother’s muscular body atop her. It only got better as she lined up the tip of his cock with her waiting pussy and gave him one last firm squeeze around the base.

“Fuck me Jae,” her flaming irises said she meant business.

But he was no dummy, she’d been in control of his every fantasy, every glimpse of skin she decided he could see and every time he’d had to go jack off in the bathroom because of her teasing. He’d not let her have it this time. So when she put his tip against her and demanded that he take her, he simply waited.

She wondered what was taking him so long, and then breathed in sharply as he took the his cock in hand and rubbed it from top to bottom of her drenched pussy. Thinking he’d enter her immediately following that had her looking him in the eye as she anticipated the move. She opened her mouth, expecting to release another moan of pleasure as he sank into her, but nothing came. She looked into his eyes and realized his plan; she knew he was waiting for her to say the magic word, though she could not believe he’d resisted her this long. Nobody had ever done that to her before; being as beautiful as she was always got Ningning everything she wanted.

Giving in, and desperately needing to be filled by her brother’s awesome width and length, she looked at him and appeared on the verge of tears.

“Please Jae…..mhhhhh….put it in me…You can have me any time you want, just, please!…oohhhhhhhh”

Before she could finish he’d already begun pushing passed her folds. He couldn’t stand to hear her beg like that; her words were so sincere. She was entirely within his power and they both knew it, but he knew he’d never be able to deny her if she asked like that - it was a first. He pushed inch after inch inside his sister, her tunnel taking him deeper and warmer.

“Is that what you want baby, your brother…ohhh,” he felt himself bottom out, “fucking you?”

“Oh my God yes….ughhhhh….you fucking asshole.” Her words caused them both to let out a short breathy laugh at the black and white contrast to her sincere begging. The entwined brother and sister both looked down between their bodies, taking in the sight of his cock sunk deep into Ningning’s pussy… his sister’s tight, wet pussy. She squeezed his penetrating shaft as hard as she could, whining at the exertion and desperately hoping he’d begin to slide in and out of her. Ningning’s eyes looked longingly into her brother’s; Jae took it as encouragement to begin fucking his sister now that they’d savored the feeling of his rod securely inside of her.

He picked up the pace quickly; his cock plunging in and out of her folds. The softness of her pussy yielded to his penetrations, urged inward and outward slightly with each thrust. He could see her abdomen expanding as he buried himself inside of her, filling her up, and then retracted. Ningning’s breasts began to shudder as he bounced his pelvis against hers and plunged into the depths of his gorgeous brunette sibling. Her grateful pants picked up and Jae was loving every second - from the feel of her body grasped in his massaging hands below to the incredible heat and pleasure emanating from their incest. That’s what it was, and they both knew it, loving every stroke all the more as brother took sister and gave her what she’d been dangling in front of him for so long.

“All that teasing…and this….FUCK….ohhhh….is what I was missing?” Ningning’s words were driving him insane between her gasps of pleasure, her beauty was even apparent in the subtle tones of her sweet voice.

“God I’ve wanted this….ohh…for so long” Jae let on, he was ramming into her hard now and he loved the way her tits bounced significantly with her sprawled out below him. “I knowwww……ughhhh. God I am so sorry…..so sorry I neverrr…. oh fuckkk…. let you fuck me before.”

She even arched her and turned her hips to invite him deeper just when he thought he couldn’t go another millimeter. Her tunnel was gripping him so tightly, the ribs of it caressing his penetrating cylinder flawlessly. They both believed there had never been a more perfect fit. Ningning and Jae were stunned by the utter completeness they felt compared to previous partners, especially when Jae slowed to a stop a few times and they locked lips and battled tongues. Ningning’s depths gently pulsed against his motionless cock as they kissed, seconds later to resume the incest they were greedily carrying out - prolonging it each time.

After an indefinable amount of time, Ningning put her fingers, extended, against Jae’s abdomen and pushed him slowly back, his cock springing from its home and leaving them both painfully wanting more. On that note, Ningning turned herself over and crawled up seductively on the lounge nearby. She looked back at Jae and directed a wagging finger at him, beckoning him to her. He was far from resisting now and hurried to her. When he reached his sister, she had gotten securely on all fours and was looking back at him.

“Wanna fuck me doggy?” she asked sweetly. Of course he did, and rather than answer, he lined up his cock and sank it down deep before Ningning could even fathom the entrance. This elicited a deep howl from the beauty and Jae worried, if only for a second, that someone might hear them. The thought actually served to turn him on more; taking hold of her hips strongly now, Jae began to pound into his sister’s pussy from behind. He looked around, taking in their surroundings; they were out in the wide open next to the pool. Anyone in the many houses that could see into their backyard, anyone nosy enough to check out what creature had made the sexy little howl and especially their parents could have seen them were they home. Ningning had noticed it too, in fact, she had found it even more arousing than he, long wanting to be fucked in an even more public setting.

“Ooooooo, ” Ningning whimpered aloud at the thought, she had so much she wanted to do with Jae and his perfect cock.

Jae admired his sister below him, her back was arched the way only a seasoned seductress such as herself knew how, allowing him the best angle at which to penetrate her. He loved viewing his cock sinking repeatedly into her dripping arousal, both of their bodies lightly dusted with sweat. Ningning’s body glistened in the sun and her tits hung freely, swaying with each thrust. Ningning began moving back to meet her brother’s pounding each time and she loved their new position.

Next Jae took hold of his sister’s coveted tits, causing her to rise upward a bit to accommodate him. They were just as spectacular as the first time he’d gotten his hands on the bare flesh not long ago, if not better with the feeling of her hot tunnel wrapped around his pole. Years of sexual frustration began melting away as he savored his sister’s quim and the sweet release it was bringing him. He knew she had a lot to pay for, but this was an unbelievably good start. He pulled Ningning up on her knees, his cock still buried inside her and sliding slowly up and down into her. Ningning loved the feeling of losing control, his hands upon her breasts and neck now and his shaft, his huge shaft spearing her vertically.

They were close now, so close.

“I am gonna….I’m almost Jae….oh fuck….fuck me baby bro….fuck your… ughhhh big sister,” her cries were heartbreaking, “come with me…please,”

“…Can I…”

He didn’t even need to ask, and Ningning cut him off -

“Of course…. I want to feel you….so fucking deep….UHHHH….cum in me.”

Jae slammed into her particularly hard as she gave him permission to shoot inside of her. He’d never come inside a girl before without a condom, and he couldn’t wait to do it with his sister as he approached his orgasm. They were an entwined pillar of forbidden love and insatiable lust, Jae’s arms holding her tight with her breasts spreading beneath his palms and Ningning’s tightening sheath impaled by her brother. Her soft cheeks padded the shock of his thrusts against them and they chased their orgasms determinedly, though desperate for the other lover to find theirs first.

Ningning arrived there before her brother, first with the build up and the increasing volume of her moans. Unbeknown to her Jae had used the remote to stall his impending orgasm as she received him on all fours. (He couldn’t help prolonging this glorious event) Instead she was more than impressed by his stamina and it caused her to desire all the stronger that he cum inside her soon, and hard. She cried out his name and turned to shower him with hasty and desperate kisses. His hands still roaming her body came to rest on the breasts that he loved so much as he felt his orgasm approaching as well. Ningning started to fade, her strength leaving her as her body leapt into climax. Jae held her up in front of him, cupping her breasts in his hands and sucking at her neck as he fucked in and out of her a last few times. Ningning convulsed, her walls gripping him tight and it was too much for Jae to sustain another plunge. He began spraying her insides with jets of his hot cum. It only added to her climax as she felt the warm seed painting her insides and she shook with involuntary waves of orgasm. It was heavenly for both brother and sister. His cock moved only centimeters but it was excruciatingly pleasurable for both of them. They lost all senses except the feeling of Ningning held within her brother’s arms, his rigid member sunk deeply into her from behind. She shook, again and again, and Jae felt her milk the last of him from his lusting manhood.

He didn’t want to pull out of her, and she couldn’t fathom being left without him now, so the two collapsed forward, laughing at the way they clumsily fell to the chair. Jae did not seem to get any softer, though any movement sent him into shivers of agonizing sensitivity, such as the residual convulsions Ningning experienced many seconds apart from what had been the most intense orgasm she had ever had. They knew that fucking their sibling was wrong, but they’d be damned if they missed out when it felt so good. Now that Ningning was his, Jae couldn’t wait to take her in every way, in every room of the house and more. He wondered what her attitude would be like toward him now that she had begged to be filled with his cum and he’d so readily obliged.

As they lay quietly thinking over their respective concerns, Ningning turned toward her brother and quieted them with a long, thoughtful kiss. It said 'I don’t know what’s going to happen next,’ but It also said, 'I need you.’ If Jae’s cock was softening before the kiss, it had since changed its mind. He began to almost involuntarily move against his sister’s spooning body and Ningning rolled her eyes backward - not even believing that he could be ready for another go.

The sweet fluids of Ningning’s climax and the forbidden seed inside her made sliding in and out of Ningning’s freshly-fucked pussy feel like heaven. They were so drained, so hopelessly lost in what had just transpired between them that simply gyrated lethargically against each other. Their motions were painfully gentle, and this time both brother and sister felt every rib, every fold and the helmet of Jae’s cock rubbing tantalizingly deep within Ningning’s body.

Their motions picked up, but only gradually, they were still exhausted from fucking each other so greedily. Ningning turned without losing her brother’s penetrating member for a second, facing him and preparing to continue their gloriously slow fuck. Ningning could feel her body threatening to bring another jarring orgasm if she continued any further…

“Mmmmmmmmh,” Ningning lifted slowly up, “Again?” - back down.

“God damnit Ningning,” Jae’s cock was sensitive but he’d never refuse fucking his sister till the day he died, “I could do this forever.”

But they didn’t have more than those few slow thrusts to entertain another round because the back door sliding announced they were about to be found out.

'Oh no, how much charge did he have left?’ Jae brought the remote up and frantically looked over it. Who was about to come through the door, and would he have enough to escape this coming disaster?’ His thoughts went in a panic

“What the fuck is going on here?” His dad yelled as he gazed upon his naked daughter atop her brother, mid-fuck and loving it.

[Pause]

[supernovafics]

𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒

pairing: bestfriend!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2k words

summary: in which kissing your best friend at a party is not something that friends do. or maybe it is?

warnings: explicit language, fluff

author’s note: i was watching friends on an airplane (the ep where it’s a flashback about how monica and chandler got together) and then i wrote this and then i immediately forgot about it so it’s just been sitting in my drafts for the past month lol and now i’m finally posting it 🫶🏾 enjoy!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It was because of the loud music. 

The sharp pulsing beat made it impossible to think and impossible to focus on anything aside from Steve standing in front of you. 

He was saying something, but in this dim lighting, you couldn’t make out what, so you beckoned him to step even closer to you. 

You pushed off the wall you were leaning back on and moved forward so that your mouth was close to his ear. “I have no idea what you just said.”

Steve laughed as he leaned into your ear. “I was asking if we should go upstairs?” 

“Oh,” You responded and started nodding your head. “God, yes. We should’ve done that like an hour ago.”

His hand found yours, and he led you through the throngs of people scattered about this random house. You didn’t even know whose place this was. You’d heard about the party from a coworker, and you were only fifty percent certain that it was her cousin who was throwing it. 

“Ah, peace and quiet,” You said once you and Steve were in an empty room. 

You sat down on the carpeted floor, leaning back against the foot of the bed, and Steve joined you. It probably would’ve made more sense for you two to just leave the party, but neither of you suggested that. 

“So, we’re at a party and we’re holed up in a random room instead of actually having fun,” You said. “Have we officially become losers?”

Steve playfully scoffed at your words. “Of course not, we’re very cool.”

You shifted around so that your head was in his lap. “I guess it’s good that one of us still believes that.”

He laughed a little, and you smiled up at him in the darkness of the bedroom. 

It was simple moments like these that you probably loved the most with Steve; ever since you two met Freshman year of high school after being made lab partners in Biology. It had surprised you how easy it had always been to talk to him, and that still hadn’t changed years later.  

“Hey, what time do you work tomorrow?” You asked him, breaking the comfortable silence. 

“12.”

“Shit, I start at 10 and I was hoping we’d be able to carpool.” 

“I can still take you.”

You shook your head. “That would be way too inconvenient.”

Steve shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

“You gotta stop being so nice to me because it makes me look like the bad friend,” You joked.  

“You’re not the bad one. We both have our strengths in this friendship,” He told you, matching the playfulness in your tone. “I’m the one who’s super nice and caring, and you tell funny jokes sometimes.”

You immediately let out an offended sound. “Hey, I tell funny jokes all the time.”

“Mhm, yeah, sure. If you wanna think that, that’s fine.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “I hate you.”

That made Steve smile. “Love you too.” 

You playfully stuck your tongue out at him, which only made him smile wider at you. Things became quiet from there; the only thing that could be heard was the faint sound of the music playing downstairs.

You probably could’ve fallen asleep just like that— lying down with your head resting in your best friend’s lap in this random house— if it weren’t for Steve breaking the silence. 

“Hey, you never told me what happened with your date last night. Can I get the full story?”

“Ugh,” Was your immediate response as you sat up, sleep no longer on your mind. “It was the worst date ever.” 

You shifted so that you were sitting across from Steve; it was the typical position you ended up in when either of you were telling stories. It reminded you of a campfire “sharing scary stories” type of thing, and it always amused you. 

“He took me to his favorite restaurant, which ended up being the shittiest burger place ever. And the conversation was terrible, I swear he only talked about himself the entire time,” You quickly explained. “And then to top it all off, at the end of the date when he was dropping me off at home, he said that I looked prettier when he met me in the bookstore.”

“Fuck,” Steve said as he shook his head. 

“Understatement of the century,” You sighed. You two were close enough that your knee brushed his. 

“Fuck that guy. You’re too good for him, anyway.”

You laughed a bit. “I agree with you in this case, but I also feel like I should remind you that you always say that. At this rate, no guy on earth will ever be good enough for me.”

“Yeah, and that’s true,” Steve immediately said, and you let out a laugh. “Also, this guy is especially the biggest fucking idiot because you’re always very hot.”

You should’ve laughed again or at least playfully rolled your eyes at what felt like a silly, exaggerated joke, something Steve was saying to make you feel better about how bad your date was. 

However, there was something about how he said his statement that made you want to kiss him, which was a sudden thought that kind of surprised you. 

This wasn’t the first time you thought about kissing Steve, but this was the first time that it was more than just a fleeting thought that you immediately chalked up as stupid or weird, and this definitely was the first time that you decided to actually act on it. 

You were leaning in before you could think better of it. Your lips found Steve’s in what was probably the most chaste kiss ever. Your hand was on his cheek, and his was planted firmly at his sides because of the initial confusion he felt at what was happening. 

You pulled back after the briefest moment, ready to rush out an apology if that was what you’d need to do to fix what you had probably just ruined between you and him. 

However, before you could say anything, he was reaching out for you, confusion wearing off and being replaced with something else entirely. His hands found your hips to pull you fully into his lap, and he didn’t hesitate to slot his lips against yours. 

It was surprising in the best way possible. Any nervousness you felt was completely washed away. 

Somehow, things moved so naturally, as if this had happened a bunch of times before, and there was no longer anything innocent about the kiss. Steve’s hands stayed on your hips, slipping beneath the shirt you were wearing, and yours found their way into the hair at the nape of his neck. He let out a soft hum against your mouth when you gave his hair a light tug. 

It was the first time you were eliciting sounds like those from your best friend, and it was the first time he was touching you in this way. A lot of firsts were happening in one moment, and weirdly enough, it all felt so right. 

Aside from realizing how good and right this felt, your mind was effectively blank. You didn’t think about what this could mean for you and Steve— what exactly this would change between you two— and in this moment, you didn’t want to think about it. 

“We don’t do this,” Steve mumbled against your lips after a few moments. “We’re friends.”

“I know,” You mumbled back, but neither of you made any move to stop what was happening. 

Instead, what made you two stop was the door suddenly opening and a sliver of light from the hallway brightening up the dark bedroom. You and Steve pulled away from each other immediately as if it was one of your friends walking in and catching you two, and not this random girl who was so obviously drunk. 

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry,” She said and then giggled. “I was looking for the bathroom.”  

The door was pulled shut before either you or Steve could say anything. You were gonna tell her that the bathroom was down the hall; you had used it earlier. 

You looked at Steve as you shifted off his lap and moved to sit next to him. Whatever lust-driven haze you two had been under was effectively broken.

“We should probably…” He trailed off, breaking your gaze. 

“Leave,” You finished for him. “We should probably leave.” 

“Yup, yeah, exactly,” He nodded. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It was on the drive to your house that logical thinking managed to settle in.

Steve was your best friend, and you had kissed him, and he had kissed you. Platonic best friends did not do that. 

You didn’t necessarily regret it, but you were now finally recognizing just how much this could potentially ruin things between you and him. 

You didn’t want to talk about it, and you could tell that neither did Steve, but you knew that you had to.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you,” You said when he was parked in your driveway and you hadn’t made any move to leave his car just yet. “But, I won’t lie and say that it wasn’t kinda nice.”

Kinda nice was probably the biggest understatement ever, but you felt the need to refrain from being a thousand percent honest. 

“It was nice,” Steve ultimately agreed with a nod.

“I don’t know why I did it,” You admitted. “It just felt right in the moment, I think.” 

“I think that’s why I did it too,” Steve told you. “When you pulled away, it just felt like it needed to happen again… I immediately wanted it to happen again.” 

“So,” You started and then proceeded to ask what was probably the most important question. “What does this mean?” 

Steve was quiet at first. It wasn’t a long time, but with nothing but silence taking over the car, it felt like forever. 

“I love being your friend,” He said, turning a little to look at you.

“I love being your friend too,” You told him, meeting his eyes. “You’re my best friend. And I don’t want anything to ruin that.”

“Me neither.” 

“Okay, so, it’s settled,” You said as you stuck out your hand for him to shake. “No more kissing.”

“No more kissing,” Steve repeated and shook your hand.

Neither of you pulled away after the obligatory shake to essentially seal this deal or promise or whatever you’d end up calling it. 

Instead, your eyes were still locked on his and a silent conversation played out in a matter of seconds where you both agreed that, fuck it, maybe you two were about to ruin your friendship, but maybe that was an okay thing to do because you simply needed to play out whatever this was. Neither of you wanted to live with the “what ifs.”

You and Steve met in the middle in this very awkward position, coming together like magnets. Your hand dropped from his so that you could fist both of yours in his t-shirt instead, and one of his found your cheek, softly stroking the skin. 

The center console dug into your stomach in the most uncomfortable way, but you couldn’t find it in you to care at all. 

When you pulled away to catch your breath and your forehead fell against Steve’s, you expected regret to hit you this time around, for how quickly you broke the promise that you two had made only moments ago. However, that melancholic feeling didn’t settle in your stomach; it was the opposite, actually. You were hit with a happy giddiness that made you smile as your lips found his again. 

You weren’t entirely sure what exactly this meant for you and Steve— aside from a few fleeting thoughts, you had never properly considered anything romantic with your best friend— but it definitely didn’t feel like things were ruined. If anything, it felt like the beginning of something new entirely, something great. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

[darkmatilda]

CAT FEVER!

in which one you try to convince your husband to adopt a second cat using a multimedia presentation (and kisses)

drabble, 360 words, written with my beloved diva!chemist reader in mind, but you can assume literally anyone else :3

ฅᨐฅ

Cat fever.

It happens to the best, the strongest, even the most sweet-resistance-trained among us.

And you were none of those things.

You lost the battle the moment you saw that commercial on TV with a tiny, fluffy kitten. And then your spy-phone algorithm took care of the rest, making sure you were thoroughly convinced that you needed a second cat.

What was standing in your way?

Nothing.

Well—except maybe it was worth checking in with your husband first.

You and Spencer Reid already had one cat. Marie, rescued by him from a dumpster and named after the brilliant chemist and two-time Nobel laureate (in two different scientific fields!)

Yoou both loved her with your entire hearts.She was your little crumb, your sweet tiny fluffy baby, your omom, the kind of creature that made you want to eat her like a cupcake with a cherry on top.

Anyway

You started slowly feeding kitten propaganda to your husband, quickly realizing he wasn’t quite as sold on the idea as you were. Sure, his eyes would soften at the sight of kittens—but he didn’t exactly leap off the bed where you were cuddling, shouting LET’S ADOPT ANOTHER!

It broke your heart.

You had to convince him.

Or adopt a kitten and hit him with the reality later. But that was Plan B.

While considering your strategy, you came up with the idea of a presentation. A few quickly made slides, calling your husband over to the couch, projecting them onto the TV.Notes in hand, hairbrush as a microphone, his favorite lipstick on your lips.

You cleared your throat and began presenting your arguments.

Lights, camera, action.

You, alone on stage. Your performance, your conviction, and one clear goal. You lowered the brush—ahem, microphone—from your face to cross your arms over your chest and fix your gaze on your husband.

Spencer was resting his chin on his hand, eyes glinting softly with amusement and the glow of the TV screen. You couldn’t quite tell if your presentation had convinced him. But even if it hadn’t, you weren’t too worried. You knew another foolproof method.

After all, that’s exactly why you’d put on his favorite lipstick.

Before he could even shout OKAY LET’S ADOPT ANOTH— you launched your attack.

[kooorey403]

Honestly, Bernard already has a whole villain backstory. I love the idea that he started it after he finds out tim is red robin- but it would be so funny if it was completely unrelated. Like while Bernard was in the cult of dionysus or something, he starts being Smiley as a way to like de-stress that doesn't involve pain and hating himself. And Smiley could be doing like stupid pranks and games all across Gotham - and his whole gimmick is wanting people to smile or some goofy shit like that.

And then his pranks start becoming more and more dramatic (coloring a an entire street bright pink, somehow glitter bombs planted in every drawer of the police station, outfiting an entire warehouse for his birthday party (the warehouse was not abandoned)(the workers were the semi-unwilling attendees)(it was not his birthday)) he catches the attention of the local vigilantes. Now, before he realizes Tim is Red Robin, the one who deals with him usually is Steph. Mostly because this seems right up her alley (also bc you know she's /spoiling/ his fun, haha- though by this point shes probably bat girl and not spoiler anyways).

Though, as he and Tim reconnect and become closer, Bernard is like... Wow, my boyfriend is totally a Vigilante, what the hell. And thus began Smiley's endless quest to get Red Robin to deal with him.

"Hey, lovely Purple, is Red around by chance?"

"Nah, man."

"That's too bad."

Steph comes into the cave covered in green glitter. Everyone is bewildered, Smiley's never targeted them before, if anything he seemed to go out of his way to not have them caught up in his pranks. But it continues to happen again and again.

"Purple again..."

"Why do you sound so diappointed!?"

"Red's my favorite color."

She gets him with her uniform somehow rainbow dyed. She won't tell them what happened. They begin to realize that Smiley won't stop asking after Red Robin.

"Do you know if-"

"NO. RED ROBIN IS NOT HERE TONIGHT, DAMMIT!"

When Steph enters the cave, she's shoved into the containment chamber used only for the worst, most contagious diseases contracted. That stink bomb was no joke.

They're completely dumbfounded at Smiley's new obsession with Red Robin. Steph is having the worst time. Tim insists on just dealing with Smiley and getting it over with. Bruce absolutely refuses to let him ...something about a villain whose theme is smiling being obsessed with a certain vigilante is familiar... Tim doesn't agree. Smiley's MO has never been to actively cause harm. It was just to be fucking annoying.

But, safety first, and the bats sort of share Bruce's opinion of the situation. None of them think he's a Joker in the making, but they dont like Smiley's fixation on Red Robin at all. Steph is absolutely done with dealing with him, so she's delighted to let the others swoop in to see Smiley for themself.

"Blue, you've flown rather far from home, haven't you?"

"I heard there was a smile I needed to turn upside down."

"Well, that's just rude."

Dick gets doused in water, and a purple goop gets dumped onto him. It isn't until later that they realize the goop is actually semi permanent hair dye. Dick gets placed on house arrest for a few days because of the stains on his skin, and they have to neutralize the purple with yellow dye. (Though, he'll swear his hair shines purple in light for months.)

"Ah, it seems there's a problem."

"The problem is you've fucking covered the Narrows in ribbons! Where the fuck did you get all of this shit!?"

"No, I mean that Red is already taken. I'm not sure what to call you. Speaking of Red... Has he been hiding from me? I haven't seen his little cape in months..."

"You're fucking creepy. You know that, right?"

Bernard ends up calling him Helmet. Jason hates him. Especially when he gets home believing himself unscathed, only to find out the back of his helmet had somehow managed to gain a large heart gem sticker.

"Yellow, isn't it past your bedtime, young man?"

"I can make exceptions."

"Just for little old me?"

Duke got covered in baby blue colored powder. Bernard used a lot more than he probably needed to. The highlight of the night was when Duke sneezed and sent a comically large cloud of blue dust everywhere. Bernard got a good laugh out of that.

Damian is absolutely flabbergasted that his siblings have managed to be bested like this. He demands to see Smiley for himself. Dick caves pretty quickly and agrees to take him.

"Oh, Blue, babysitting tonight?"

Damian hates Smiley. Bernard narrowly avoids getting stabbed in the stomach by the little Batling multiple times. Nightwing scolds him for excessive use of force. So, Bernard sort of feels bad for using itching powder on the two of them. But only a little.

When Batman goes to see Smiley, Bernard keeps his mouth completely shut. He doesn't really have the guts to taunt him. The trap he had set up for the unsuspecting vigilante of the night was simple but effective. Bernard almost doesn't use it on him- terrified of the repercussions. But he manages to work up the will to do it at the last minute.

Which is how the bat suit gets splattered in polka dots of hot pink paint. Every bat worth their salt managed to snap a photo of it.

Cass was perfectly content to stand back and watch all of this unfold. Personally, she had shown up to observe Smiley after the first time Steph showed up covered in green glitter. Though she never told anyone, she likes him. He was fun, and he enjoyed bringing joy to others, even if he seemed to have a little sadness hanging over him for some reason.

She watched his silent showdown against Bruce, completely enthralled. They were both speaking her favorite language, after all. Afterwards, she quietly joins Bruce, hopping through rooftops. They share a moment of silence before she speaks.

"He likes you."

"Hn."

"He respects you."

"He's dangerous."

She just tilts her head at the pink polka dotted man.

"The feats he's managed to accomplish in such a short a mount of time without being noticed, somehow without leaving any trails behind, are unprecedented. He's an unknown. Volatile. Unpredictable."

She shakes her head. "He won't hurt Tim."

Bruce grunts. "Names."

"He likes him."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

Despite the conversation ending there, Red Robin is finally given the green light to deal with Smiley.

"Do not actively seek him out. If he's in your area you're fine to confront him, but only if it's nessacary."

Tim just hums in agreement, knowing that he plans to show up the second Smiley shows his face.

But for some reason... he isn't. Showing his face, that is. Weeks go by without even so much as a mention of Smiley's name.

Bernard was considerably spooked by Bruce. And it's embarrassing to admit, but it wasn't until Batman showed up that he realized that the reason he wasn't seeing Tim out was most likely because they didn't want him talking to the mysterious rogue who kept asking after him.

Bernard was understandably put out by his monumentous blunder. He had just wanted to see his boyfriend in action! Was that too much to ask for?

So, he laid low for a few weeks, planning his return meticulously.

Turns out, Tim wouldn't have to seek him out at all.

Bernard was going to have fun with Tim as Smiley. His next prank was going to be his greatest one yet. part of it sort of verges on the edge of vigilantism, but it's the aftermath that's important.

See, the thing is, Red Robin had been doing recconaissnace on a certain small time drug operation. The reason Bernard knows about this is by happenstance, Tim left out a sketch of the logo they tattoo onto their runners.

Bernard often surveys areas for potential pranks and games. At some point, he accidentally stumbles upon a group of people who all have certain tattoo visible on their shoulders.

Originally, Bernard was planning on suggesting he and Tim get dinner in that area so he could spot something or maybe even just dropping the information on one of the vigilantes as Smiley. However, he had a plan now.

So, he manages to time it just right, right on the day Red Robin busts a small abandoned office building being used to manufacture the drugs.

Tim wasn't thinking about Smiley at all. His mind was on more pressing issues, like the solo drug bust mission he gave himself. He really should've called for back up, but he figured it would be an in and out situation- call the cops and cause enough of a ruckus that the cops have a reason to enter and then arrest the people there. But when he bursts through the window, he finds the room has been covered in red and silver glitter. The criminals all unconscious. And for some reason they're tied up with bows? Silk ribbons and streamers hang from the ceiling.

'What the...'

"Hi, Red." The voice is from behind him, and Tim whips around with his staff in front of him- jumping away from the speaker.

"Did you like my present?" Smiley tilts his head towards the men tied up.

"Smiley," Tim says in lieu of answering.

"It's been so long since I've seen you, Red." Well, not that long, Tim was in Bernard's apartment just that morning, he stayed the night as an apology for not being able to make it to their Friday date night. Which was tonight, actually. Looks like he was able to make it, after all.

"The last time I saw you, you didn't even speak to me." Bernard theatrically slumps forward in despair before looking up and crossing his arms over his chest, attempting to appear dramatically grumpy. "It's rude to ignore people, you know."

The last time Bernard saw Tim as Red Robin was also the first time, before Bernard knew Tim was Red Robin. Tim had been with Spoiler, sepersting when they saw whatever shenanigans Bernard was up to that night.

"What do you want?" Tim bites out. Honestly, it was rather impressive that Smiley had managed to do all of this on his own. Though the fact that he presumably did it for Tim was a bit creepy. It's insane that he knew Tim was investigating this group, let alone where they were operating- getting here before Tim... Hell, he even somehow knew that Tim was doing the drug bust today and alone.... Let's just say Tim is not looking forward to giving his report to Bruce tonight.

"Oh, Red." Smiley practically purrs. "I just want you to smile."

And then he lunges forward as if to grab Tim, although there's not any genuine intent on Bernard's part. Bernard has never been the best at fighting. His only claim to fame in this respect is his extremely high pain tolerance. It's easy to brush off the bruises and cuts he gets, and he never flinches. It gives him an edge. Especially since when he gets into a fight, his goal is always to get away rather than to win.

Bernard plays the same game he always does, swiftly dodging all of Tim's strikes, backing away- slowly leading the vigilante to right where he wants them.

The place Bernard wants him is the roof, which is a few floors up. Because of this, Tim immediately realizes something is up as they near the stairwell.

He jumps back, away from Smiley, staff held in front of him defensively. "What's your game, Smiley!?"

At this, Smiley just laughs, standing up straight with his hands folded behind his back.

"I don't know, my dear Red..." Smiley slowly pulled something out of his back pocket before presenting it to Tim. "Why don't you find out?"

In between Bernard's thumb and index finger is a detonator. It's long to be held comfortably in one's fist and, Bernard's favorite part, it has a dramatically red button on one end. Recognition and horror blooms on Tim's face and Bernard turns around and sprints up the stairs.

Tim follows with a shout, and Bernard can hear him speaking into his comms below him beneath the sounds of them moving through the stairwell. Bernard jumps over the railings, and hops through multiple steps at a time. He's determined to get this prank right.

The door to the roof is open, just like he left it. And as he makes it out there, Tim slams into his back. It's a minor hiccup. Originally, Bernard had planned to make it out onto the roof more smoothly. He was going to dramatically turn to Tim as he made it to the top, detonator in his fist, he'd planned a whole speech. Not everything can be perfect, though.

Tim and he struggle there, Bernard firmly holding onto the Detonator. Tim grabs the wrist of the hand that Bernard is gripping it with, and Bernard has a hilarious thought- he doesn't need to be standing to press it! Duh.

His thumb slams down on the button with a resounding click.

"Fuck!" Tim curses, throwing himself off of Smiley, making a run for the edge of the roof- but as he gets there he sees a light shooting up from a few buildings away, and exploding in a sparkling light show of red and white.

Fireworks.

Tim stands there, dumbfounded, as more and more fireworks light up the sky. The other bats are screaming in his ear, demanding to know what's going on.

"It's... It's just fireworks."

There's a light chuckle from beside him, and Tim jumps and turns to see Smiley standing there beside him.

"What else would it be?" Bernard asks Tim, knowing damn well what else Tim thought it would be.

The adrenaline crash from believing the building he was in was going to explode is what makes sure Tim doesn't immediately start running or fighting.

"I told you I just wanted to see you smile."

And Tim seriously feels insane, standing there with fireworks going off in Gotham in the middle of the night. It's the incredulity of the situation that makes him laugh, just a touch hysterically.

The fireworks that light up the sky bathe Tim in an orange flash of light reminiscent of a sunset. And watching his smile stretch across his face, hearing his laugh ring through the night... Bernard almost falls in love with him all over again.

Tim shakes his head at him, giving Smiley a scathing look that's completely ruined by the smile on his lips.

"What?" Smiley waves a dismissive hand, but still sounding delighted. "Come on, why would I blow up a building I was in? Why would I blow up a building you were in?"

Tim could honestly think of a few reasons, the main being the weird obsession Smiley seems to have on him. Double bomber suicide seems right up the alley of Gotham crazy.

Soon, though police sirens ring through the night. Bernard turns toward the sound. "Ah, that's my cue to leave, Red."

"I still have to apprehend you, you know," Tim tuts.

"I think you should check on your drug dealers, Red." Bernard turns back towards him as Tim makes a questioning noise.

"Well, I did tie them up with silk ribbons... they're rather slippery. And to get them unconscious, I just drugged their food with sleeping pills, so they probably woke up already because of the noise." Bernard points to the fireworks.

Tim stares at him. Then, he lets out a heavy sigh and he runs back to the door into the office.

"Good luck getting the glitter out of your costume!" Bernard yells after him ominously, for extra affect.

The sleeping pills he used were no joke, those criminals definitely did not wake up from the noise of the fireworks. There was no glitter trap waiting for him either. Though there was one for the cops on the first floor.

Bernard chuckles as he makes his way down the fire escape. His only regret is that he can't see the look on his boyfriend's face as he realizes he's been tricked.

AND THAT'S A WRAP.

I hope you like it I literally spent my entire Friday on this. It was not supposed to be anywhere near this long... it just got away from me. Sorry for any spelling mistakes.

After this Tim becomes the main person who deals with Smiley, mostly because he's the only one who doesn't get covered in something when he confronts the rogue. Lol.

I like to think of this story as being very minimal angst, even though it is rather unrealistic that Tim would harbor no hard feelings at being tricked like this. Especially after Tim confesses that he's Red Robin and finds out Bernard has already known. Why wouldn't Bernard tell him?? Well, Bernard probably just thought it would be funny. I imagine Smiley is just a bit insane, well meaning, and definitely not evil... but that man is not right in the head. Love him to death, though.

Anyways lots of love to everyone!!!

Goodnight gng

Aaaand here's the sheet (The word is sheet? Idk- like... the info and a little characterization)

OKAY- before somebody throws punches, this was just a silly idea I got after seeing that beautiful art of Bernard and Tim hanging from a building and like- the moon is in the background and BERNARD LOOKS STUNNING

Anyway, I saw that and immediately thought "Damn, it kinda has kaito kid vibes with the doves and the suit... WAIT" and it was like my brain just melted. Especially remembering how the first introduction of Bernard shows him, I put his hair of that moment as a wink lol

And before somebody says "Uhm ☝🏻🤓 this couldn't work because Bernard will never do that and Tim is like, the best detective so he would find out immediately and" IT'S FANON, IT'S FUCKING FANON, GODDAMNIT LET THE FANDOM ACT LIKE A FANDOM. Go read a comic if you want something canon 🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻

[autism-princess]

Secrets In The Night

College!AU (Abby Anderson x Camgirl/Roommate Fem!Reader) 18+

SYNOPSIS: Abby has an unhealthy obsession with watching your videos without your knowledge. She might be slightly in love with you too... but it all comes to a climax (pun intended) when she sees your most recent upload...

WARNINGS: Masturbation, strap-on use (ellie!giving), perversion, onlyfans referenced, exhibitionism, camera fetish, overstimulation, this one is just filthy...

A/N: Once upon a time, I posted this on my old account... We will see if you guys remember who I am.

Hands scrambled for something to hold onto. An iron grip was against the bed sheet underneath the glistening body that rippled with muscle and was shuddering in pleasure. Soft, desperate moans fell from her lips and she chased after that high she’s felt so, so many times before from this sinful little act of hers. Icy blue eyes brimmed with tears, and blonde wavy hair was a mess on the pillow laying next to her lit laptop screen. 

She wanted to scream; she wanted to cry out and beg for something, anything, other than these feelings that just wouldn’t go away. She felt like some pervert, staring down at that LED screen and biting her lip raw as her fingers worked inside of her, stretching her out and making her give a shuddery little moan of excitement. 

“So fucking pretty…” Her voice was choked and rough, an indicator she had been doing this for almost 2 hours now. She had already cum multiple times but she just couldn’t stop! It felt too good, and you looked too fucking gorgeous in this. 

She’s never been a person to subscribe to these things… Not one for OnlyFans, or Patreon, or anything of the sort before. She watched porn for free like the totally normal human being she was. So why the fuck did she pay for this; pay for you? 

The answer was simple… you slept twenty feet away from her in your own twin-sized bed. In the photos on your account, she could see her posters on the walls, and in those videos you made, she heard the sound of the TV playing from the other room where she was residing on a sofa and completely oblivious to what you were doing inside of your shared bedroom. 

You had told her that the camera equipment was for a project… It was for some extra credit assignment from your photography professor and your parents lent you the money for the high quality camera. Was that even true? Did they lend you the money at all or did you pay in full? You must have; your parents never approved of your photography class and would certainly never entertain the idea of getting you the 4K camcorder. 

That was the first red flag. If it was photography class, why did you need a video camera? On many occasions, She would come home to the bedroom door, or the bathroom door locked tight and she was so frustrated that she ended up using the toilet down the hall, or simply leaving again to go somewhere and kill time. She didn't know what you did behind those doors… but she did now. 

So many pictures, so many videos, so many things that she didn't know happened only a few feet away from her! One video was even titled "Watch me cum in my roommate's car!" And she could hear her own fucking voice in the recording! You had snuck a remote control vibrator inside of yourself and she was simply holding a conversation with you while you squirmed and wiggled in your seat. 

It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen… your eyes rolling back in your head while you tugged on the fabric of your skirt and gave a few series of whimpers that Abby simply ignored. How did she not notice it happening when it did? 

It was never intentional for her to find out about it. She saw your 1099 Form on the countertop with your name on it and her curiosity was so overwhelming. Why did you have a 1099 form? As far as she knew, you worked your job at the college café, and she's been helping you with your taxes. Why didn't you tell her about it? 

And then she saw the amount. $528,100.98?!?

What in the fuck did you do to make over five hundred thousand dollars last year alone?! Something wasn't adding up for her, and she was beyond concerned. What did you do to get this money? 

She looked up the address of the location and found that it was tied to the headquarters for the OnlyFans website. And everything just spiraled out of control. 

It was purely research at first. Hell, she didn't even expect to actually find your account. It wasn't exactly difficult, though. It was almost the same name as your Instagram, which did not mention the OnlyFans account. Makes sense, your family follows that account and the last thing you would want is for them to find your online video porn. 

It was $10 to subscribe to your account. She paid for it, not really considering the consequences of her actions… she had thought you were attractive before. Every once in a while she would catch herself staring at your ass, or when you'd wear those short pleated skirts. You wore thigh-high socks once and she was convinced that you were trying to get a rise out of her… 

And then she saw this side of you. The wild, aggressive side that no one knew about. You were so nice, sweet, and gentle. You wore soft colors and always cleaned your shoes when it rained. You baked muffins, and you would giggle whenever she told a horrendous dad joke that was too precious to not adore. You were her innocent little roommate… 

In the days after, she had watched you do the most sinful things. Your toy collection was intense. One of your dildos was shaped like a horse dick, and you could take it all the way down to the hilt. All 13 inches fit inside of your cunt, and she had to cover her mouth after she heard your wetness slick across the surface and how you shamelessly cried out when she wasn't home. 

All of your videos and pictures were solo. You did it all by yourself and made it well known that you were single by choice to her and to all of your friends. 

Things had spiraled out of control, alright? Every night, the blonde would sneak off to the bathroom or hide in the laundry room as you slept peacefully and finger fuck the everloving shit out of herself while watching you either ride something, or simply touching yourself. In public, in her car, on the couch you two shared together, in the shower, anywhere you could imagine… It's where she found herself now. 

You were staying with a friend tonight, and that meant she got to cum until she couldn't breathe. Those pretty noises that you made, how your thighs trembled as you held that vibrator against your clit, your eyed rolling back in your head as you grabbed at something on your mattress�� oh fuck, you were holding onto her hoodie. You were burying your face into the fabric of her hoodie as you came on your bedsheets. 

"Fuck… fuck! Nnnnnnn…" She saw stars go off behind her eyes as she ground down against her fingers, fucking down onto her hand and riding out that blissfully intense orgasm that almost made her heart stop. Her eyes filled with tears with how hard her orgasm rocked her, and she forced herself to remove her fingers from her cunt, angrily wiping them on her thigh and stuffing her face into the pillow. The sounds from your video continued to play and she angrily closed the window and then slammed the laptop shut.

She hated herself for this. It had gone from a simple look, to a complete and utter obsession. Her pillow was covered in a t-shirt… your t-shirt. She inhaled your scent, reveling in the sweetness of your body mist and remembering how it hugged you like a second skin… Sweet fuck, she loved looking at your body.

She had seen you looking in the mirror and hating what you see so many times before. She watched you drive yourself crazy, fussing over potential dates and whoever was lucky enough to take you out that night. You wanted to look perfect, and you had stated so many times how you were “too big” to look perfect in anything you wore. 

How could she be supportive without giving away how fucking hot you really were? You were so beautifully soft and squishy, and she wanted nothing more than to hold you all night long and feel your softness against her muscular body. She wanted it so bad. You always complained about how cold you were… she gave you the hoodie to keep you warm in this shitty shared apartment. 

And you hid your face in it as you climaxed all over your bed sheets. No wonder you washed them so often… 

So lost in her train of agonizing thought, she almost jumped off the bed when she heard her phone buzzing on the table, charger attached at the port. With a shaky hand, she reached out and grabbed the phone, almost choking on her breath. 

It was you.

Don’t miss me too much tonight Abby! I’ll see you in class tomorrow, okay? Don’t forget my Peace Tea!

Abby groaned, hiding in her sheets for a second and rubbing away her tears with the fabric on her pillowcase. She heard it in your voice and her cheeks turned pink with embarrassment. It was always so hard to talk to you right after she fucked herself stupid to your porn videos.

Don’t YOU forget to actually bring back my charger. Not a fan of charging my phone with the same cord I use to charge my controllers.

She slowly shut off her screen and crawled off the bed, her limbs still slightly shaking as she waddled into the bathroom to sort herself out. It took all of four minutes before she was flopping back down onto the bed, the blonde hair around her face slightly damp and her three fingers on her left hand were wrinkled and pruny… She had them inside of her cunt for at least an hour and a half. 

Very easily, Abby drifted off to sleep with her nose pushed into the t-shirt wrapped around her pillow. So sweet and so cute… Abby remembered seeing the fabric of the shirt pushing into the pudge on your belly and it had her body tingle again. 

“Want you,” Abby huffed at nothing. “Want you so bad…”

Absently scrolling through her phone on Instagram, Abby didn’t notice you running up behind her, almost pushing her out of the seat she was in by the courtyard fountain. Your hands grabbed at her shoulders and she jerked forward before turning her head up and looking to see your face. For a brief moment, Abby remembered how you looked when you went full ahegao for a photo and her cheeks warmed up. It was easy to blame the cold weather though.

“Yay, It’s my favorite person ever!” You cooed sweetly, sitting on the seat next to her and removing something from your bag. Before she could ask what it was, you placed her cord on the table and grinned. “I didn’t forgeeeet…”

“I didn’t either,” Abby placed a large orange can on the surface, seeing the label that read PEACE TEA, MANGO GREEN. You immediately cracked it open and took a very big drink from the can, moaning obscenely loud at the taste on your tongue. The blonde was immediately reminded of the many videos she saw last night. And once again, what were you wearing? That fucking hoodie… 

Abby bit her lip and looked away for a second, but immediately tore her eyes back to you and stared at what she could see of your neck… the collar pulled down and Abby inhaled, hard. A large purple welt was inside of your skin, blistering that complexion and making her see red. Was that a fucking HICKEY?

“W-What is–” Abby reached out, grabbing the collar of the hoodie and tugging it down in order to see the bruise that was dark, angry, and had obvious teeth marks. You reacted like she just tried to stab you, grabbing at her strong wrist and jerking back enough that your ass slipped on the table. “The fuck is that?” 

“Nothing!” You said, way too fast. “N-Nothing, I just uh… I burnt myself with my curling iron, that’s all.” 

Abby scoffed. “Yeah, I said that too in tenth grade.”

“Dude, I’m serious!” You said, gently shoving her at the arm. Abby rolled her eyes and took a long drink from the hot coffee cup sitting on the table in front of her. When she didn’t respond, you pushed her again, and she simply shrugged her shoulders, trying not to look bothered. “Abby–”

“S’not my business,” She said flippantly, putting on a stern face. Of course, her cup crumpling under her grasp told a different story. “Can fuck whoever you wanna, I don’t care.” 

When you got quiet, Abby realized her mistake but all too late. When she looked back up at you, she could see how your eyes glossed over and your bottom lip quivered. Why did she have to say it like that? God, she may as well have called you a slut! Her heartbeat raced all the way down to her toes as she went to apologize. “I didn’t mean–”

“I-I’ll uhm…” You stood from the seat, brushing your hands down over your thick thighs and readjusting the waist of your jeans. Abby gulped, trying not to stare at your soft figure. “I’ll s-see you in 3rd period, Abby.” 

And as fast as you were here, you were gone. Her palms felt sweaty, and not from the drink she was holding… All it took was one wrong flex of her muscles and her triple-shot irish-creme latte was splashing all over her hoodie and down onto her legs. Abby jumped from the table, nearly falling in the process as the liquid burned through her sleeve and she immediately yanked off the hoodie. 

“Goddammit,” Her words were harsh and angry as she slammed the hoodie onto the table, shaking out her forearm that was already turning red. That’s the last time she asks for them to make it extra hot. 

“Drink much, dipshit?” Abby tensed at that voice. Her muscles bristled with hostility and she looked down to see someone skidding to a halt in front of her, kicking up a skateboard on the concrete and into her knuckle taped hands. 

“Oh, fuck off, Williams,” Abby sneered at the auburn-haired girl. Ellie snorted, taking a step to her left and purposely standing as close to Abby’s backpack as she could. The one now covered in soy milk. 

“Little bunny sure scattered fast,” Ellie tucked a hand into her baggy jeans pocket, her oversized t-shirt wrinkling on the side as she pulled down the sleeve of her black undershirt. How in the fuck did she ever stay warm? Abby had only ever seen her scrawny ass wear a jean jacket or the shittiest hoodie ever. 

“What did you just call her?” Abby declared, her hostile side taking hold at defending you. Ellie smirked, stepping a little closer and showing off a very toothy grin. 

“She’s like a bunny,” Ellie said. “Skittish and wide-eyed. And the cutest damn thing anybody gets to see. Especially when she wears those thigh-high socks? My god, just want to suffocate in her legs–”

“Don’t objectify her,” Abby snapped, coming to your moral rescue. It felt so fucking hypocritical now. She spent 2 hours fucking herself to your videos and now she was telling Ellie fucking Williams to not talk about you like that. Her rage was very misplaced. She wasn’t mad at you, or even Ellie, but at herself. She really fucked up now. 

“Down, dog,” Ellie sat down on the table’s surface and laid her skateboard across her thighs, tapping her fingers against the checkered pattern deck covered in stickers. It was such a play at Abby’s ego to call her a dog. A rumor in freshman year spread like wildfire after an ex of Abby’s said she would growl when she fucked someone. Ellie never let her live it down. “Just saying your roommate’s hot.” 

“Don’t you have someone else’s day to piss on?” Abby yanked her hoodie off the table next to where Ellie was sitting, resisting the urge to smack her with the wet fabric. Ellie simply leaned back on the table, her hands touching the surface of the wood and grinning. 

“Aw, what’s wrong Abigail? Don’t miss me at all?”

“You were the worst random roommate I ever had,” Abby snapped, tying the jacket around her waist and cracking her knuckles. “I do not miss your midnight Dungeons and Dragons sessions with your fucking friends, nor do I miss the apartment reeking of marijuana.”

“Yeesh, don’t act your age now,” Ellie said. “Just call it weed.” 

Abby ran a hand down her face, realizing quickly that this conversation was not worth the headache she was earning. She lifted up her backpack, shook off as much of the liquid as she could and carried it around by the strap. Before she could walk away though, Abby glanced at the table and then back up at Ellie’s green eyes with a grin on her face.

“Might wanna cover your ass, Williams. Now you smell like the shit you hate so much.” 

The last thing Abby saw was Ellie jumping off the table and looking at her ass to see coffee stains smearing on her jeans and her thighs. “Fuuuuck!”

When 3rd period rolled around, Abby didn’t see you. Her nerves felt like they were on fire whenever someone would open the classroom door. She looked up, hoping she would see you, and then her expression would drop with defeat. 

She had to apologize… Abby had to say she was sorry for what she said to you. But how could she if you had skipped the class? 

Abby ended up texting you, fearing the worst. 

Hey, you ok? Not like you to be late to class.

It took so much self control not to watch the screen and wait for your response. Her fingers twitched, tapping on the surface of her desk as she tried to focus on the lecture but just couldn’t bring herself to focus. Her phone buzzed and she opened the message, lightning fast.

Didn’t feel too hot. Went home early. Sorry.

It was short and concise… you were still very much upset. Abby turned off her screen and put her chin on her folded up hands, absently listening to what the professor was saying but not retaining any information given. And then her phone buzzed again. 

Very slowly, she looked down and saw it wasn’t a text, but an alert from… OnlyFans?

Abby was scared to open it. She knew it was you, but it still made her nervous. Cautiously, she turned the brightness all the way down even though she sat in the back row and made sure her volume was all the way down before opening up the app to see the alert. What did you post this time? 

Her stomach dropped and she felt like she could throw up. The title alone was enough to make her feel sick. 

Fucked by hot skater girl!! 

The thumbnail was enough for her to start screaming… It was you, and who was that on top of you? Ellie fucking Williams. 

Abby doesn't have a clue as to why she watched this video. It was making her blood simmer with rage, unyielding jealousy burning a hole in her chest that just couldn’t be extinguished. You lied to her; you fucking lied to her and you had fucked Ellie Williams! AND RECORDED IT!!

It felt like watching a car accident. Knowing that the outcome was pure carnage, but too enthralled to look away from her phone screen as she hid in her car at the back of the parking lot. She felt like some horny teenage boy, sleuthing away from everyone and everything just to watch porn when she should be in class. Fuck fourth period! Abby had to see this!

The video started out tame enough. Abby recognized those stupid LED lights that lined Ellie’s bedroom walls, the brightness up and the hue set to a deep pink, your favorite color. Her fingers curled into the fabric of her shirt as she panted inside her freezing pickup truck. She could see her breath as it fogged up her windows from the inside, watching the video with painful intent. 

Ellie was kissing you, and you were reaching up to remove the glasses from her face in order to stop the frames from digging into your faces. For a brief moment, Ellie chuckled and then she shoved you down into the mattress of her twin-bed. Ellie was slipping her hands under your hoodie– fuck, it was Abby’s hoodie too. It probably still smelled like her. Every once in a while, you would ask her to spray that pine scented cologne onto the hoodie so it would smell like her… you told Abby that her scent was calming. It made you feel safe. 

Ellie’s long, dextrous fingers slipped under your shirt, her black-painted short nails raking over your soft tummy and squeezing at your thighs. The noise you made was making Abby blush from her ears down to her cheeks. 

The process of the video was borderline hypnotic. It was a mess of wet lips, Ellie’s rough calloused hands on your soft skin, your back arching and your hips rising off the bed as Ellie pulled down your panties with her fucking teeth. Abby tugged at the front of her shirt, right over her viciously beating heart. 

It should have been her. Abby should have been the one doing these things to you. Abby wanted to be the one that took those clothes off you and made you whimper for her, and for her alone. She was so fucking covetous of you. She wanted you to scream her name and to squirm on top of her as she forced you to sit on her face and ride her tongue to beautiful completion. 

Ellie knew exactly what she was doing. She moved with fluidity and skill as her head dipped down between your legs and she immediately dived head first into your cunt, drooling all over you and making you grab at the fabric behind your head– that fucking hoodie again! 

You sounded so breathy and beautiful. Ellie growled against you, drooling and slurping as she paused in her movements and zoned in on your clit, making you whine and whimper with pleasure that Abby was dying to see for herself in person. 

Abby slammed her fist into the steering wheel, grabbing at the leather with her iron-like grip. The dampness was growing in her boxers and Abby carefully pressed into the seam of her jeans, grinding down against herself. Ellie slipped her fingers inside of you, and the noise you made was beyond perfect. 

“God,” Abby gasped as she pushed herself into the seat. “Wanna fuck you…”

Ellie sped up, her hands moving at high speed inside of you and the sound of her fingers working inside of your cunt was enough for Abby to unzip her jeans and slowly push her hands inside of her boxers. She couldn’t stop herself, even if she wanted to. 

The second her fingers touched at her clit, Abby was throwing her head back against the car seat, gasping and grinding up against her calloused fingertips. The video kept playing, and the sound of Ellie fucking you without so much as a restraint behind her motions. Abby knew the sounds you were making. Ellie was mere seconds from making you cum.

“Come on, bunny… that’s it, you gonna cum? Gonna cum for me?” 

You cried out, pushing both hands into her hair and giving a soft tug to those auburn locks as she dived back down and gave a soft kiss to your clit. Abby wanted to feel your hands in her hair. Abby wanted to feel you grabbing her blonde hair and yanking on it as she ate you out. 

“Fuck… Fuck, please daddy! Pleaaaase, l-let me cum– I-- ohmygooood..!”

It was so fucking fast. Ellie wrapped an arm around your hips and shoved you down into the bed. Abby could see the way her fingers indented into your soft flesh and she was practically drooling. She wanted to mark your hips with bruises from holding you down and fucking you senseless. 

Her jealousy rose to a new level as she saw Ellie bring you to climax. You sounded so fucking gorgeous when you came, and Abby was so fucking pissed that her old roommate got a front-row seat to seeing her new roommate cumming. Her right hand fisted in her hair as she worked at her pussy with her left one, lifting her knees up onto the dashboard and swiftly shoving two fingers inside of herself. The video was almost an hour long, and Ellie made you cum in ten fucking minutes, flat. 

Abby pumped her digits desperately inside of her cunt, watching Ellie unzip her jeans and saw that the girl was wearing a fucking 8 inch strap. She bossed you around, grabbing at your hair and dragging you to the camera’s view and pushing you down onto your hands and knees.

“Come on bunny,” Ellie sighed with that dreamy look on her face. “Suck on daddy’s cock like a good girl.”

Abby huffed, watching your pretty lips wrap around that strap and take it halfway in your mouth, drooling and slurping on the silicone and looking up at Ellie with wide, sparkly eyes. Abby wanted you to look at her in that way…

“Fuck, baby… Just like that, yeah? Want me to fuck you?” 

Abby was hanging on Ellie’s every word, basking in her own pleasure as she pushed a third finger inside of her cunt and clenched on the digits stretching her. Fuck, she was so fucking sick for this. 

Lost in the pleasure, Abby looked back down at the video when she heard you scream. Ellie had you on all fours and her strong, veiny hands grabbed at your plump, soft rear as she slammed her hips forward and shoved that black, sparkly cock inside of your pussy with one swift motion. You went silent for a second, head back and arms trembling before you started to gasp and exhale, hard. 

It was like you had never felt something like this before in your fucking life. Abby paused her finger’s movements, waiting for Ellie to start fucking you… And oh boy, did she fuck you. 

Her hands gripped at your hip bones, slamming that toy dick into your weeping pussy like it was what she was made to do. One hand was on your hip and the other slid up your back, grabbing a fistful of your hair and letting your sounds echo into the room. Ellie’s roommate must have been pissed. 

Abby knew it was fucking depraved… She knew that it was twisted and an obsession, but she couldn’t stop. She was addicted to this– addicted to you. Her wrist was screaming for her to stop but Abby refused to let up. 

She watched the entire video, and came three times inside of her car.

Abby didn’t know what to expect when she returned  home, but seeing you nowhere in sight was not it. She frowned, searching the entire apartment for any sign of your presence… All the lights were off. You didn’t turn on your aroma diffuser, and the window was still shut… You always do the same thing when you come back home. You fill the diffuser with peppermint oil, turn on the lamp next to the sofa, and open the window a crack to let the fresh air in.

Even when the temperature was bitingly cold and you complained about it, you still wanted the window open a little. Abby teased you, but you didn’t care and proceeded to do it until she would close it at the end of the night. 

Her heart sank as she pushed her bedroom door open, dropping her backpack and cringing at the scent coming off it. If she didn’t wash it tonight, it would be unbearable by the morning. She slowly pulled out all of her school stuff, placing her laptop on the bed and carrying the bag to the laundry room. 

Abby got lost in her head again, fingers twitching a little as she scrubbed at the soy milk stain on the black mesh. Her hands gripped the strap and she inhaled hard… Her mind drifted to Ellie. How Ellie called you bunny this morning, and then how she said it in the fucking video…

“Ride daddy’s cock, bunny… Pretty fucking girl.” 

Hands flexed hard enough to tear the fabric in her hands and she slammed the backpack into the washer. Fuck it, she didn’t have to scrub it. Just soak the shit off. 

Abby drizzled the soap over the bag and slammed the lid shut, putting it on a delicate setting and letting it run. Fuck, even her shirt smelled like irish creme. Abby ripped the long-sleeved compression shirt off her body, adding it to the washer and walking away from the room. Her skin felt tight on her body, and she just wanted to curl up on the blankets on her bed and sleep until the sun came up again.

Her heart stopped for a second as she paused in the doorway, her hand grabbing the frame as she scowled. What if the reason you weren’t here… was to be with her? What if you were with Ellie right now? What if you were being railed by her all over again? Would you record this one too?

Abby felt dirty. She had to shower. 

As quickly as she could manage, Abby was stripping off her clothing and heading into the bathroom where she cranked up the water as hot as she could handle, jumping in and washing away the filth of today. 

When she closed her eyes, she thought of you. The way your eyes roll back in your head, the soft giggle in your voice when she tells you something funny, how your legs quivered when you climaxed, the way your head rested on her leg when you fell asleep watching a movie with her… Your soft breathing when Abby would stare at you and dream of how your lips would feel against her own.

Abby wanted to cry. She was no better than any of those other fucking creeps on that website. She was no better than some gross man watching you get fucked by Ellie fucking Williams, getting off to it and then feeling guilty about it afterward. 

Everything was a fucking mess. And for some goddamn reason, she just couldn’t fucking stop! 

Even after her shower, Abby was right back to square fucking one. Fingers moved against her cunt, focusing on her clit this time around and watching Ellie rail you all over again. You were sitting in her lap as she watched you bounce on her strap, holding you at the waist and digging her fingernails into that soft body of yours. 

It gave Abby a new reason to fucking hate her. She takes everything that she wants. Freshman year was spent in torture. Ellie would eat the stuff she labeled in the fridge, would never return her movies, used her Xbox… stole her girlfriend right out from under her. Yeah, Abby and Nora broke up, but Ellie swooped down immediately and Abby felt so fucking replaceable that it hurt. 

This was the one thing she didn’t want Ellie Williams to fucking have… and she got you. She got you in her bed, and Ellie left her fucking marks all over you. Bruises on your ass, hickies on your neck, claw marks on your back.

“F-fucking hate you,” Abby huffed into the pillow that your shirt was still wrapped around. She looked at her phone and seethed with rage. You kept calling her “daddy” and kept making those fucking noises that Abby loved so much that she felt stupid. “Little whore…” 

Abby had left the bedroom door cracked, convinced that if you came home at any moment, she would notice… but that has never, ever worked before. You were so damn sneaky that you made Abby scream on multiple occasions. 

You slowly opened the front door, placing your keys on the hook next to it and peeking inside. The apartment seemed quiet… that was good? Maybe Abby went to sleep or something. With a little breath through your nose, you closed the door as quietly as possible behind you, brushing off the snow on your outfit and in the midst of removing the hoodie from your body.

It was then that you heard it. Hands stopping halfway through taking off her sweatshirt at the entryway, you heard a soft moan come from the bedroom. Abby? Maybe she was sleep-talking again. 

You ignored it at first, but then it happened again, and it was followed up with words that felt so heavy and gravelly, you felt color rise to your cheeks. “Gonna f-fucking destroy you… fuck you, bunny…” Abby then breathed out your name… your fucking NAME!! You felt like you were gliding. 

Before you know it, you were standing in front of your shared bedroom door and you peeked inside of the room. Your eyes widened and you had to cover your mouth to hide the noise you made. Sweet fucking god, did you die and go to heaven?!

She was watching it… Abby was watching your video that you posted this afternoon… Abby was watching you get fucked by Ellie, and she was fucking touching herself while watching it! The sound of her fingers slipping all over her cunt before they plunged inside of her pussy had your eyes rolling back, the wetness growing between your legs and your fingers twitching on your face as you kept your hands over your mouth.

Ellie’s voice echoed in the room. “Come on, baby… bounce on daddy’s dick like the little slut you are!” It was demeaning and depraved, but hearing Ellie say those words to you last night, you almost felt your heart stop. That skater girl, fuck… Ellie was so hot, and she knew it. Her taped fingers adorned with silver rings, her grunge aesthetic, those black framed glasses, that undercut, and those freckles. 

The woman was a walking wet dream. Ellie was hot as fuck, and when you asked her about this, she was all to happy to oblige. She’d never done porn before, but Ellie would do anything you asked if you looked at her in that way that made her stutter. 

At some point in the night, you forgot the camera was even there… You were simply in the moment with her, pretending like this wasn’t a way for you to make money but your raw, carnal desire for the delinquent to fuck your brains out. 

And then, there was Abby… Abby saying you could fuck whoever you wanted and that she didn’t care. It left such a hollow feeling in your chest. She seemed so flippant, and so unconcerned. Abby didn’t care who you fucked… why did that bother you? 

Well, the answer was obvious now.

Your hands trembled as your fingers slowly slipped inside of your jeans, watching Abby with burning intent as she practically rode her fingers to your video. Ellie continued that hot talking, but the words Abby said was what made your cunt throb with pleasure. God, her hands were so fucking big and so strong; Her ass looked so good. And fuuuuck, those back muscles that glistened with sweat. 

Why did Abby have to be so fucking hot? And why did she have to flaunt it all the time? Seeing her fresh back from the gym was borderline torture. You wanted her to grab you, pin you down, and fucking destroy you, just like she said she wanted to. How depraved were you?!

“Come on… come on!” Abby huffed through clenched teeth, clearly nearing her orgasm as your loud cries of pleasure echoed in the room. You blushed, pressing your fingers against your clit overtop the cloth of your panties and slowly rubbed. You kept a hand over your mouth, drooling as Abby came closer and closer to completion… It would have been so fucking easy to watch her like this forever. She was so fucking gorgeous. 

Oh, but fate was a dirty whore. Your phone slipped out of the front pocket of your jeans and hit the floor. It was so loud in the quiet that you reacted to the noise like a gunshot, stumbling backward and feeling your face go pale. 

Abby’s movements came to a screeching halt, sitting up from the bed and looking over her shoulder while putting an arm around her chest to try and hide herself from whoever was behind her, like it was someone other than you. The video continued to play until Abby all but broke her phone’s power switch with how hard she squeezed it, throwing the device away like it was on fire. 

In your haste, you had pulled your hand free from your jeans, but the zipper was still down and the denim was squeezing against your lower hips. It was clearly obvious what you were doing, and if that wasn’t an indicator, the slick on your fingers was. 

You were frozen in place, body shaking as you looked at Abby’s eyes that refused to look away. She looked as if she could cry at any fucking second. You bit your lip and stepped forward, nerves on fire and hands twitching. Abby immediately backed up, her spine meeting the wall as she grabbed the blanket from her bed and pulled it close to her skin.

“N-no, no, fuck,” Abby immediately started rambling. “M’sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t think you would… god, I’m so fucking sorry! I know, I know I’m fucked up and I shouldn’t have–”

“Abby,” You tried.

“I’m not… I’m not like this with other people, I don’t–”

“Abby.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me! I don’t know why its like this with you, I just–”

“Abby!” You slapped your hands against her face, squishing her cheeks and slightly crouching down. From here, Abby could see the many hickies that Ellie left on your neck from the night before. The rage began to return at seeing those marks, wishing that it was her that gave them to you. “Stop talking.” 

“No, no, I need to explain–”

“You really don’t, honey,” You said in the sweetest tone ever. Abby forgot her point for a second. “You have no idea… how fucking hot that was, do you?”

Abby didn’t say anything until you pinched her cheeks again. “I… I uhm…”

You chuckled, eyes closing for a moment as Abby stared at you. Those beautifully long lashes of yours and that soft blush that decorated your cheeks… She could smell the mixture of your body mist, and her cologne. Abby whined. You looked so gorgeous in her hoodie… 

“Honey,” You made her brain skip like a scratched record disk. Her heart sped up and she very cautiously reached out to grab you. Her huge hands hovered just above your hips and you pushed her damp honey blonde hair away from her icy-blue eyes. It just took one glance down at her lips and Abby was done for. 

“W-What about–” Abby choked, sitting back for a second to keep you at bay. “What about Ellie?”

You blushed a deep red, and Abby didn’t like that. But your answer was quick and concise. “Ellie isn’t you. She can never be you, Abby… Who do you think I imagine when I make those videos, huh? Why am I always wearing your hoodie in all of them…” 

Her icy blue eyes trailed down to your body under the hoodie, seeing how it was loose around you but still so fucking beautiful against your skin. Abby looked at you like she wanted to eat you alive and ruin you until you were sobbing.

“Abby,” You whined desperately. “I can’t take it anymore… please–”

“P-Please what?” She tried to sound dominant, but your presence was holding so much power over her that she ended up stuttering over her words. A blush decorated her cheeks as she felt you slide the pad of your thumb across her pouty bottom lip.

“Please. Kiss me.” 

And when she did, there was no going back. 

[sweetbans29]

You've Lost Me - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: You just weren't the priority anymore (based on THIS request).

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: pain

Sweetbans Masterlist

Everything is perfect.

You are entering into the last semester in college with graduation right around the corner. You are finishing up your undergrad degree and plan to take a gap year before starting your masters. The gap year was a battle that you ultimately won. You took the side of wanting to take a gap year because of all that was going on. And by all that is going on, you mean your girlfriend deciding if she is going to declare for the draft or not.

You met Caitlin during your freshman year at Iowa. It’s a funny story. At least now it is a funny story. Freshman year was a weird one because of Covid, not many students were actually on campus and the ones that were could only be around those there for the same reason. Caitlin was on campus for basketball and stuck with the team most of the time. You, on the other hand, were only on campus because you had a job that required you there because students were onsite. You worked at the bookstore and even though Covid was happening and a majority of classes were online, students still needed books. It was pure chaos, but you didn’t mind. 

Back to how you met Cait. There was one day where everything around the sun went wrong. You were one of two people in the shop and were bombarded by requests. The last priority you had was tending to actual people walking in the store, most of the chaos was happening via email. You were running around like a mad-women and didn’t even notice the bell indicating there was someone in the store. 

“Sam, did you already package up those Bio books?” You yell to your coworker in the back. Right as you do, you trip over a stack of books on the ground causing you to go flying to the floor. You hear someone yell something along the lines of ‘oh shit’ right before you hit the ground. 

You groan in pain and just lay there. 

“Are you okay?” A girl comes up, not close enough to really check you because of Covid, but close enough to see that you aren’t bleeding.

“Just leave me here to die,” you say dramatically, not looking up to see who is standing there. “It would be better than this shitshow.” 

“Well if you die, then I wouldn’t be able to get my books,” the girl says and you finally turn over to look at the source of the voice. The first thing you notice is her hair. She has beautiful brown hair that looks so soft and shiny. 

“Your hair is shiny,” you say. You don’t remember but you must have hit your head when you fell because there is no way you actually just said that out loud. 

The girl laughs, “Thank you.” 

You are still laying on the ground when your coworker comes out saying she left them in a pile, the pile you tripped over. 

She ends up being the one to help you up since the two of you quarantined together prior to starting at the campus store. After you are up, you double check and immediately know several places that will have nice bruises show up. 

“I can help you,” Sam says to the girl. 

“It’s okay, I can wait for…” the girl says then trails off when she realizes she doesn’t know your name. Sam says your name and Caitlin repeats it. 

“I got it Sam,” you say as you limp over to the section where the onsite students' books are housed before they are sent to their dorms. That was what a majority of people opted for since it meant less contact and was deemed the ‘safer option’ when ordering online. The girl in front of you was the only person you have seen actually enter the store. 

“Name?” You ask as you try to cover up the pain you are in. 

“Do you always tell people you like their hair or am I special?” The girl asks. 

“Umm I think you forgot the part when I fell and most likely hit my head causing me to speak irrationally,” you say. 

“But you didn’t hit your head,” she says. 

“I am pretty sure I did,” you say. 

“I saw the whole thing, you didn’t hit your head,” she says and you stand there staring at her. You try to suppress the rage that is beginning to boil inside of you. What is she getting at?

“Okay, I didn’t hit my head,” you say. “It was probably the lighting, don’t consider yourself special.” You let out a little forced laugh, not knowing why the two of you were still on the topic. 

“So are you going to give me your name?” You say with a little bite to it. 

“Someone is feisty,” she responds and now this girl is officially on your nerves. 

“Do you want your books or not,” you say, proving her point. 

“I think I’ll switch to getting them delivered,” she says and your eyes twitch. 

“Dude, seriously?” All professionalism is out the window at this point. 

“Chill, I am messing with you,” she says. You are anything but chill. You take a deep breath and try again. 

“Name?” You ask again, taking the edge off your voice. 

“Caitlin,”she says and stops. She likes messing with you, if anyone were to ask her, she would say she finds it incredibly cute when you get frustrated. 

“Last name?” You ask. You should have been clear the first two times you asked. 

“Well that is pretty forward,” Cailtin says and you are done. 

You begin to walk away without saying another word. 

“Wait, wait, wait” she calls after you. “I’m sorry. It’s Clark.”

You slowly make your way back and go to look at the shelf labeled with ‘C’. Considering there are only like 10 orders in total, her first name would have been enough but you were just following the process. 

“Are you always this difficult, Clark?” You ask as you go through the process on your computer. 

“Depends,” she starts in a joking manner, then gets more serious. “It’s been different lately, ya know? With how abnormal things are, I guess I am just trying to find something that feels normal.” 

This softens you a little, you can’t knock her for that. You have been feeling the same way. 

“Well, I can tell you, falling in front of strangers is definitely not normal for me,” you say as you hand over her books. 

She laughs and you’re hooked. 

“I sure hope not, I don’t know how you are still alive if it was,” she says and you notice how even though you can’t see her smile, it shines brightly through her eyes. 

The two of you part ways. It is shortly after that Caitlin comes and bugs you again only this time she has no reason to be there except to bug you. She ended up becoming a friend - even if she annoyed you more times than not. Your annoyance only made her want to annoy you more. By the end of the school year, the two of you are closer than ever and she invites you to come home with her for a few weeks during the summer before heading home yourself. It is the time spent at her house that she confesses her feelings to you. You reciprocate them and it feels like the rest is history (aside from her bringing up how you two met to anyone and everyone that would listen - and she never fails to mention how you told her she has shiny hair). 

When senior year rolled around, the two of you knew wherever the future took you, it would be together. So when you started talking about taking a gap year after undergrad before starting your master, Caitlin was against it. You knew it was all with good intention - she didn’t want you putting your goals on hold while she was still trying to figure out where she would be. She still hadn’t made the decision to declare for the draft or not yet but deep down you knew she would. 

So when March rolls around and her team is getting ready for March Madness, you could see the conflict in her eyes every time the two of you were together. 

The two of you are in her apartment having a movie night. By the way her hands keep fidgeting with anything in their vicinity, you know she is caught in her own head and not paying attention to the movie. 

“Babe, this is your favorite movie and you haven’t quoted it once,’ you say, bringing her hands up to kiss the backs of them. 

“Mmmhmm,” she hums, not realizing her response doesn’t make sense. 

“Hey,” you say and pause the movie. “Talk to me, pretty girl.” 

“Everyone is waiting for me to make a decision and I don’t know what to do,” she says. “The media keeps commenting, my parents keep asking. I know you are waiting to figure out what to do, it is just a lot.” 

“Hey, the only person that matters is you. It is what you want to do,” you say and bring your hand to sooth her hair. 

“But it’s not,” she says and you stop her. 

“It is,” you fight back. She shuts up. 

You bring her in your arms and hold her. 

“What does Caitlin want to do?” You ask softly. 

“She feels ready,” Cailtin says after an eternity of thinking. “I have spent 4 good years here and I feel like I have done what I wanted to do.” 

“Aside from a natty,” you say, a smile peaking through. 

“That’s on the way,” she says. “But I feel like I am ready to move on to bigger and better things.”

“Then there is your answer,” you say. “And I will be right by your side wherever that is.” 

“When you are on break from school, yes,” Cait says. 

“No, all the time,” you bite back. “At least the first year. I heard that is the most difficult.” 

“You are not stopping your schooling for me,” she says. 

“That is not your decision. And my mind was made up a while ago,” you say. “I want to see what life is like outside of school, I mean we have been nonstop at it for 16 years now, I deserve a break.” 

“I don’t agree with you,” Caitlin says but buries herself deeper into you. 

“You don’t have too,” you say as you squeeze her tighter. Her actions speak louder than she is in the moment. You know she wants you by her side, there was never any doubt. So when the time came and she got drafted to Indiana, you packed up and the two of you found a place to live in Indianapolis. 

Caitlin’s rookie year was hard but you were by her side through it all and she could honestly not be more grateful for you. You were able to travel to all the games and be home with her after practices. You wouldn’t have changed any of it. 

Her second year was almost as good as the first. It was a little less hard. You had started your masters program which you were excited for and Caitlin had been nothing but supportive in you going back to school. The only thing that got a little harder was time. But even with you being busier and Caitlin having more engagements, the two of you still made each other a priority. 

It wasn’t until about a year and a half after you started school - you only have about 4 months left, did you start to notice a shift in your relationship. At first, it was miniscule and you didn’t think much of it. It was Caitlin, staying longer at practice or her forgetting to grab something at the store. Things that you didn’t think twice about. 

It isn’t until you notice you start spending more time alone than with her do you ask her if everything is okay. 

Caitlin comes home from practice one night and you stop her in the kitchen. 

“Hey babe, I missed you,” you say as she comes over to hug you. You stay in her arms and exhale. 

“How could you miss me?” She says with a smile. She did have a point in the sense that you saw her that morning, but that wasn’t what you were getting at. 

“I miss us time,” you say and the second you say it, you feel silly for even bringing it up. 

“I miss us time too,” she says as she leans her head on top of yours. You sigh in relief, the last thing you want is to be seen as clingy. Not that it has ever been an issue before.

“How about this, I have a few days off after our next game. Why don’t we get away for a day or two, just us,” Caitlin says and you nod. 

“I would love that,” you say and look up to kiss her. 

“I would also love that,” she says against your lips and brings you back into a hug. 

“Whenever you miss me, just tell me okay?” She says. “Although my hope is to notice before you have to say anything.” 

“I love you,” you say. She repeats it back and you feel secure again. 

The following few weeks are great and you feel like things are back to normal. It is after the season ends when you start to notice her distance again. 

This time it is much more noticeable and seems more intentional. When you ask her about it, she dismisses you - but she does it in a way that doesn’t have you questioning her. You know her schedule picks up in the off-season and that includes a lot of travel. The part that gets you is when she doesn’t ask for you to join. You don’t let it bug you because when you ask, she makes it sound like she doesn’t even want to go herself. 

“I mean if you don’t want to go, I’ll join and we can spend a few extra days. It would be nice to go on a little vacation - you deserve it,” you say. If you were honest, you also deserved it. You are just about to graduate and could use a few days before diving into finishing all you have to do. 

“I would rather just go and come home,” Caitlin says and you respect her choice. Maybe you should have pushed harder or tried a different angle but you know once she has her mind made up there is really no swaying it. So you drop it. 

“It is probably better that you’ll have a few quiet days to finish up your school work and then we can celebrate your graduation,” she says and you believe her logic.

“You’re right,” you say, swallowing the slight disappointment. “I can’t wait until we are on a boat in Cancun, no worries in the world.” 

Cailtin goes on her trip and you stay home and get all your work done so that when she gets home you can spend all the time you want with her. 

The only thing is, Cait doesn’t come home when you expect her to and you get a text saying that she is going to be delayed a few days. You are bummed but have no reason to think anything bad about it. You tell her to be safe. 

The first big riff that the two of you face is when she misses your graduation. You try to be understanding but getting your masters is a big deal and she had known about it for so long that when she called you telling you how sorry she was to not make it, it stung but you know she meant it. 

From there, it just kept getting worse. Caitlin became distant, then would apologize profusely and would give you attention for a little before going right back to being distant. After a few months of the back and forth, you slowly fell into your own rhythm, without her. 

There would be weeks at a time where your shared apartment didn’t feel shared. It felt like you were living alone in a city that you used to love. 

It all hurt but what hurt you the most is when Caitlin stopped noticing when you showed up. Even though she had stopped showing up, you would always be there to support her. 

Her next season started and there was one that had you questioning how much more you could take. 

You get to Gainbridge Fieldhouse with Cait and hang out before sitting where you have season tickets on the baseline. The whole game, she doesn’t look your way once, not that you need her to but she usually does - at least once. The Fever takes the win and you hang out with a few other regulars, waiting for Caitlin on the floor. 

After a little while, you notice that the crowd has thinned significantly and there was still no sight of Caitlin. You head to the tunnel where you run into Lexie. 

“Hey! I didn’t know you were still here,” Lexie says as she comes over to give you a hug. Before you can ask she continues, “I thought I saw Cait leave a while ago.” 

You try to hide as your heart falls on the floor, but you don’t do a great job. 

“Oh, yeah. I - uhh, we drove separately,” you say. It’s a lie. 

Lexie knows you are lying but doesn’t want to rattle you even more. 

“I can give you a ride home,” she says softly. The team has noticed changes for a while now. It started when Caitlin started showing up to dinners and game nights without you. They would always ask where you were but she would come up with some excuse saying you were busy and couldn’t make it. It wasn’t noticeable at first but then Lexie jumped to post something to her story one game night and noticed you had posted a story. Caitlin has said you were visiting your parents and couldn’t make it but your story was you in your apartment with the caption ‘movie night 🍿’. Lexie didn’t mention anything about it, but noticed. 

“Umm, yeah, that would actually be great,” you say. “I don’t think I should drive right now.” 

She nods and drives you to your apartment. When she pulls up and you get ready to leave she gives you a little encouragement. 

“Cait just has a lot on her mind right now,” Lexie says and you wish you knew what she was talking about. Cailtin stopped talking to you about how she was doing and kept it to small talk when the two of you had time together. 

You nod and thank her for the ride. 

When you get to the door of your apartment, you struggle to find the words you want to use when confronting Caitlin. How could she forget that you were there? You drove together, had one of the best conversations on the way there. Then she doesn’t look at you once and leaves you at the arena. How could you be so quickly forgotten? 

You take a deep breath and open the front door. 

“Cait?” You ask as you enter, there is no answer. 

You walk in and see most of the lights are off. You walk around trying to find your girl and feel yourself break when you finally find her. 

Cailtin is sound asleep in your bed. 

She fell asleep without you there. No contact, no nothing. She just came home without you and went to bed. No questioning where you were. Did she even notice you weren’t there?

The next few months you went back and forth between making yourself small and unnoticeable to trying to get her to pay attention to you. The thing was, she was never annoyed with you when you did more. It would be normal and just as you felt like things are on the up and up, she would go away for weeks at a time or do her own thing. It got to the point where you needed to prioritize yourself, even if that meant leaving the girl you love. 

It was a warm summer afternoon when it happened. You had spent weeks figuring out what you were going to do and the first step that would affect your decision is seeing if Cait would bail on your anniversary dinner. 

You hadn’t mentioned it was your anniversary - never had to. The only thing you mentioned to Caitlin was that you made dinner reservations for the two of you at her favorite restaurant. She told you she wouldn’t miss the dinner and like every other time, you believed her. She had practice that she couldn’t miss and the two of you planned on meeting at the restaurant. That wasn’t unusual. 

When you got there, you were seated and offered Caitlin’s go-to wine which you accepted but wanted to wait for her to pop open. You look at the clock and tell yourself not to panic when it’s 10-past your reservation time. You sit and enjoy the ambiance, waiting for her. 

It is about 20 minutes after that you feel deflated. You check your phone, no message or missed call and you begin to draft a text when you go to check her location instead. When you see that she is at the restaurant, you feel relief take over your body. She is probably walking in. 

You look towards the door as excitement builds, only to be crushed by the sight of Caitlin with several of her teammates heading in the opposite direction of the table that you are at. They are guided to a private booth in the back and you can feel tears welling in your eyes. 

She forgot and left you sitting there, only to come to the same restaurant with a different group of people. 

The waiter comes over and you can see in his eye, there is confusion but also sympathy. You tell him you’ll pay for the wine but will be heading out. He refuses your payment but you leave cash. 

You get yourself a hotel room that night, not wanting to be in the same space as Caitlin when she gets home. 

Over the next few days, you make one of the hardest decisions of your life.

It is quiet, you don’t have it in you to be loud. Slowly - unnoticeably you begin removing your belongings from the apartment. At first you were scared that Caitlin would notice and begin to question, but as the days passed you were reminded how forgettable you had become to her. 

It’s a Tuesday when you're at the apartment to retrieve your final things. You do one last sweep over the space, thinking about all the great memories that Caitlin and you had made there - muted by the past few months. 

One last deep breath as you put your keys into the bowl on the entry table. 

A goodbye you never thought you would have to make and it isn’t even to her face. 

You head to the apartment you found, it is much smaller and is month-to-month as you figure out where you belong. You really don’t know how long you could stay in Indianapolis - really the state of Indiana. But that is a task for you to figure out after you allow yourself to waste away for as long as you need. 

Caitlin feels like she is just walking though life in a haze right now, not really feeling much, just trying to make it to the next day. She has found that spending time with the team has been the best help and has her feeling like herself, even if it is only for a few hours. She knows she has been neglecting you but you are always there and she knows you always will be even while she is in this funk. 

She gets home and drops her keys off at the entry table as she automatically goes to the bedroom and gets ready for bed. Cait feels like there is something off but she can’t pinpoint it - she shakes it thinking it is just a part of her funk. She gets in bed and it is slightly colder than it has been. She closes her eyes and tries to sleep but there is this nagging feeling in her that has her sitting up. 

The spot next to her is perfectly made, a space she is so used to you occupying. Her eyebrows furrow. She doesn’t remember you saying anything about not being home. 

Cait grabs her phone and scrolls to your last message to see if she has missed a text you sent about where you would be and it isn’t until it takes her a minute to actually find your name in her messages that she realizes she hasn’t talked to you in a while. 

When Cait finally finds your name, she opens it only to realize the last message you sent was over two weeks ago. It was a reminder that the two of you had dinner plans and that you would meet her there knowing she had practice. 

Dinner? She didn’t go to dinner with you…

She opens her calendar app and taps on the event that clearly says ‘Dinner Date 🤍’. Her heart drops when she also sees the ‘7 year anniversary’ headlining that date. Caitlin mutters a string of curses as it comes back to her. 

“I made us dinner reservations at your favorite place this Thursday,” you say as you make something for lunch. “I put it in your calendar.” 

“Why would you do that? You know I won’t forget,” Caitlin says - she hasn’t looked at you once, eyes trained on her phone. 

You don’t say anything because you have a gut wrenching feeling that she will, which has led you to setting up precautions so she won’t. 

“It’s at 6,” you say. 

“I have practice until 5,” she says. 

“We can meet there,” you say, disappointment shown on your face but not heard in your voice. 

That was the end of the conversation, Cait didn’t say anything to you after that. 

Caitlin is now standing in her bedroom, pacing a little. She was worried that something had happened to you, you are always home. 

But the more that she thinks about it, it has been quieter in the apartment. Caitlin enjoyed it and didn’t question it until now, when she can no longer remember the last time she has actually seen you. 

She has been so caught up in her head and she has never had to worry about you. Now she is worried. 

She goes to call you. It goes straight to voicemail. 

When Caitlin thinks to go check your location, you no longer show up. 

At this point, Caitlin doesn’t actually know what to do. She has been so removed from you recently that she doesn’t even know who to call to see if they knew where you are. 

She beelines to the hallway closet that houses both of your luggage, thinking maybe you went on a trip she forgot about and you didn’t have service or wifi. When she swings the door open she notices it is half empty.

The jackets you had hanging in there are no longer there. 

Caitlin swallows the lump in her throat as she runs to the closet in the bedroom. She flicks the light on and she feels all the air leave her lungs. 

It is half empty, but not in the traditional sense. Yes, all your clothes were gone, but you had moved her stuff around to make it look like there wasn’t that much of a change. Why would your stuff be gone? 

She begins searching every area of the apartment and after 20 minutes of finding the same thing, she has to sit with the fact that you left. She can’t wrap her head around it because you never said anything. There was no fight, no arguments. Everything was normal. 

On the verge of a full on panic attack, she calls the first person she can think of and before she knows it, Lexie is there and bringing Cailtin into her arms. 

“Breathe CC,” Lexie says as Caitlin allows the panic to consume her. 

“Gone,” is all Cait can get out. 

Lexie stands here holding her friend and teammate as Cailtin breaks down. 

Once she has Caitlin calm, she guides her to her room and gets Cailtin to lay in bed. She promises she will be there when Caitlin wakes up. 

Caitlin eventually falls asleep but Lexie doesn’t. She gets up and looks around - coming to the same conclusion that Cailtin did a few hours ago. Her heart sank for the girl but she would be lying if she said she knew you were in the wrong here. 

Lexie’s mind goes back to that one time she drove you home after Caitlin left you at the arena. Lex remembers slyly bringing it up to Cait at practice the next day where Cait just said it was no big deal and that it was all worked out. And when Lexie mentioned to have Cait invite you to her engagement party but Cait came up with some excuse of how you were busy without even asking you. Lexie knew you would be there in a heartbeat if you knew about it. 

The next morning, Caitlin wakes up and goes around the apartment thinking the night before was one big nightmare. It was a nightmare but she is very much awake. 

Where did it go wrong? Where did she go wrong?

Caitlin knew you would always be there, she doesn’t remember anything else. You were her normal, you were her home. 

But she has to think hard, really hard, back to the last time she can remember spending time with you and her heart feels like it is on fire when she can’t remember. All she can remember is spending time with the team and then when she got home, she would usually just head to bed.  

Cait doesn’t know what to do, has no idea how to find you, has no idea if you want her to find you because if she were in your shoes, she would never want to see herself again. But Caitlin doesn’t know how to do life without you, she doesn’t know how to survive without you. The hard truth that just hits her like another wave is that you have been surviving without her because she didn’t give you a choice.

Cailtin sinks into the truth that you have had to learn to live without her for who knows how long while she just kept on going with her life. And now that she has to do it, she doesn’t know if she can. 

Everything was perfect. Until it wasn't and there is nothing Caitlin can do about it.

AN: I hope this is the pain you were looking for. Let me know what you think! And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

[edwardhartenjoyer]

Making Them Jealous By Accident - Jabberwock

You didn't realize you weren't giving your loving boyfriend enough attention but when he starts to complain about you spending time with someone else it dawns on you. You better make sure to assure him he's the only one for you.

Sinostra | Frostheim | Jabberwock | Hotarubi | Obscuary | Mortkraken | Vagastrom

Towa Otonashi

Towa is an easy one to make jealous, really the only person that wouldn't bother him would be Haru

However, Towa hates it the most when you come to spend time with Ren

Why are you with wolfsbane when you should be spending time eating flowers with your boyfriend?!

Whenever this happens storm clouds fill the air pretty quickly

Good days, you can talk Towa down with promises of hanging out beneath your tree together late at night and watching the sunrise and he'll cheer up right away

On days when he feels a bit too left out, he'll pout and cling to you tightly

You better make sure to give him lots of affection to let him know you still love him deeply, even if you are friends with some of the people he hates

Towa feeds off your affection, afterall you're soulmates, so make sure you always remind him of how much you do love him and he'll be a bit more agreeable when it comes to the unfortunate first year

Haru Sagara

Haru is generally the buisier one in the relationship, so he would be hard to get to stand still long enough to notice you were giving a bit too much attention to some other guy

However, in his rushing around Jabberwock he hears the sounds of you laughing and goes to investigate

He finds you sitting in one of the fields with Towa, laughing softly as the free spirit places a flower crown on your head

He feels the pang of jealousy in his chest

He'd love for that to be you and him, and of course your shared fluffy son, sitting in the fields with maybe a picnic basket and just enjoying a nice time off

But he's far too busy for that

He won't really admit to his feelings, so it's up to you to notice that he seems a bit off and after pressing enough times he'll admit to feeling a bit jealous about not being able to just hangout like that with you

You make it your mission to get enough done to allow Haru a day off, somehow wrangling in the other two house members to help out through whatever means necessary

When you do surprise Haru with his picnic off he's showering you in praise and adoration for days afterwards

Ren Shiranami

How could you possibly like spending time with that clown over him?!

Very judgy and jealous when he comes downstairs one day to complain about the noise and sees you there laughing with Haru as you feed some kind of animal that's snuggled up in your arms

He's briefly distracted by how cute you look all carefree like that before snapping back to his annoyance

You're supposed to be his girlfriend, how dare you take that clown's side!

He'll storm back upstairs and you won't see him again until you seek him out, promised chores done for the day

You find him sulking in his bed staring at him phone

"Ren? I'm done helping out now if you want to watch that movie you keep telling me about."

"What, don't want to keep hanging off that clown?"

"You can't seriously be jealous of him?" You tease

He blushed and sunk further against his bed in an attempt to hide

Tease him enough and he'll snap that, fine, yes he was jealous that you'd rather be with that clown than him

Assure him you were there to help because Haru's a friend and it gave a good reason to just pop by unannounced to try and surprise your boyfriend

He'll perk up a bit at that and finally begrudgingly agree to watch that movie with you

Be sure to cuddle him throughout, he might protest but he seriously loves it and likes the comfirmation that you do prefer being with someone like him

[viv-hollande]

No, it's not an understandable take, it's fucking insane. I don't even know where to start. Strap in kids, it's another long one.

For one, why are we stopping at Europe? The ability to inflict human misery is not limited to white people.

Should the Japanese be prohibited from being proud of their country? I hope I need not tell you the extent of the atrocities committed by Japan during World War II, but Japanese imperialism extends far further back. The 1592-1598 Imjin War was a brutal Japanese invasion of Korea that was to be a prelude to a wider conquest of all of China. The Imjin War was used in 19th and 20th century Japan as justification as to why Korea belonged in the Japanese sphere of influence.

What about China? Passive and active Sinicization has been happening continuously throughout Chinese history. China has a long history of invading its neighbors, most prominently Vietnam and Korea. Current PRC policies and rights regarding minorities are complex, however, there is one thing that the PRC will not tolerate in it's minority populations under any circumstances, and that is nationalism, especially independence-seeking nationalism, as Tibet has found out. Do the Chinese people deserve the kind of nationalism their government denies to others?

Are the former Ottoman states allowed to be proud of their countries? After all, the Ottoman state perpetuated institutionalized racial and religious discrimination, by which minorities were legally second-class citizens deprived of the rights afforded to Turkish and Arab Muslims. Ottoman society and the Ottoman economy were heavily dependent on chattel slavery. As only non-Muslims could be enslaved in accordance with Islamic law, millions of foreigners from Europe and sub-Saharan Africa were kidnapped by Ottoman slave traders. The entirety of the Ottoman Empire was complicit in this, from Algeria to Mesopotamia. Should Arab nationalism cease to exist, then?

And why are we painting Europe with such a broad brush? There are many European nations that were themselves victims of foreign occupation and colonial oppression. Finland, Ukraine, and the Baltic states by Russia, the Balkans by the Ottomans, Italy by the Spanish, French, and Austrians, Poland by Russia, Austria, and Germany, etc.

We could go on and on, litigating oppressor and oppressed, tallying up death and suffering in some Kafkaesque historical competition of who-had-it-worse to decide who "gets to" do what, or we can acknowledge that that's kind of stupid.

The history of the British Empire shouldn't exclude the English from celebrating Darwin, Newton, and Shakespeare.

The history of the French Empire shouldn't exclude the French from celebrating Voltaire, Hugo, Dumas, and Pasteur.

The history of Russian imperialism shouldn't exclude the Russians from celebrating Mendeleev, Tchaikovsky, and Tolstoy.

Reactionary nationalism, the kind that proclaims the innate superiority of a nation or people, is obviously an immensely destructive force. But it should be considered perfectly acceptable and normal for nations and peoples to celebrate their genuine achievements, just as it is normal for my dad to bring up Henry David Thoreau every time we drive past Walden Pond.

Complexity

While I'm here, there's a kind of papering-over inherent here that frustrates me. Whenever America commits a crime, it is attributed to just 'America', or 'the American empire', as though it were a uniform monolith, ignoring the many in America who dissented, often successfully, against these actions. And I'm not just talking about student protests.

When Nixon started bombing Cambodia, he had to go to great lengths to hide it from Congress, who had explicitly forbidden him to do so. When they found out, Congress was so pissed that they tried to impeach him, and they probably would have too if Watergate didn't get to him first.

Iran-Contra was only a thing because Congress had explicitly forbidden the Reagan administration from sending military aid to a bunch of drug-dealing mass-murders trying to overthrow a democratically elected government.

Reagan (yep him again) was actually pretty opposed to enacting sanctions on South Africa (because 1) anti-communism and 2) Reagan was a right bastard), but his hand was forced, once again, by Congress, who actually overrode his veto 313-83 in the House and 78-21 in the Senate. In both houses, more Republicans voted against Reagan than for him.

Remember when politicians in this country actually gave a damn?

And that's just the governmental front. There have been millions of Americans that have been fighting and frequently dying to make both this country and the world a better place. Many of those millions have been of the privileged classes, who used their privilege and influence to affect real change.

But others were those in America who were not considered American, but who fought to be so. Frederick Douglass and Martin Luther King expressed great admiration for the Founding Fathers and their ideals, and expressed their enormous dismay that those ideals were not being realized for all Americans, even by the men who laid them out. The goal of so many of America's greatest advocates for change was not tearing America down but furthering the process of creating a More Perfect Union not merely by guaranteeing that the rights promised to all Americans be granted to all Americans, but in expanding those rights to include economic justice as well as political justice. You don't have to agree with them, but to present America as having no redeeming qualities, to say that America has nothing to be proud of, is ridiculous and frankly a bit insulting to them.

Pride

Maybe I'm alone here, but I personally think there's a lot about America to be proud of.

I, for one, am pretty fucking proud of all of the US weapons keeping Ukraine out of Putin's bloody little hands. I don't think it's nearly enough, and there are countries other than Ukraine that I think we should be supplying just as generously, but Ukraine still stands as an excellent example of the great American death machine being used for genuine good.

I'm proud of the hundreds of thousands of white American soldiers in the Union Army, many of who had no particularly strong beliefs on slavery when they joined. I've read historians' compilations of the letters of Union soldiers, and it is genuinely emotionally affecting to watch as the greater portion of an entire army of vaguely anti-slavery white supremacists choose, when directly faced with the absolute horrors of slavery, to change their minds and steel themselves to sacrifice their lives to destroy the foul institution they had grown to despise. One of those soldiers was an ancestor of mine; he suffered through years of captivity in Andersonville, a POW camp with conditions so brutal that, after he miraculously escaped and made his way back to Union lines, he was arrested as a deserter because no one could believe that he had survived as long as he did. After he cleared his name and recovered from his ordeal, he re-enlisted in the Union Army and you bet your ass I'm proud of that fact.

This is getting long enough, so I'll finish with my favorite example. In 1958, Deputy Minister of Health Viktor Zhdanov submitted a resolution to the WHO to create a dedicated, worldwide program to eradicate smallpox. The following year, the WHO adopted unanimously.

The two most brazen and oppressive imperialist states in the world at the time, the US and the USSR, together they team-carried the ENTIRE GLOBAL SMALLPOX ERADICATION PROGRAM for the first decade of its existence. Both countries would have, by the successful conclusion of the program, donated completely free of charge billions of doses of vaccine each. That isn't even taking into account American and Soviet direct financial support. Even if you cynically want to argue that they acted out of self-interest instead of altruism, it is an undeniable fact that the economic and human effects of this program have overwhelmingly benefited the poorest and least developed nations on the planet.

The eradication of smallpox is a strong contender for the single greatest achievement in human fucking history. Fuck fire, fuck agriculture, fuck the Moon landing, this, right here, the moment where humanity stared down Death itself and said, "Stop. Right. There."

Two imperialist nations built on stolen land were instrumental to this monumental, unprecedented effort, because just like all other human institutions they are as capable of tremendous good as they are tremendous evil.

The point of this post isn't to wash America or anyone else's hands of the blood they're drenched in. It's not to do whataboutism and say, "We're all bad, so stop whining about it." It's to try and break some of you out of this Puritanical mindset of eternal, unquenchable national sin that blinds you to the complexities of the actual fucking world we live in, to both the good and the bad in all nations and all peoples. We can acknowledge all of the good that a nation has done AND all of the bad it has done, without one detracting from the other and without having to tally them up to figure out which pile is bigger.

Fellow leftists, you need to let go of this crippling inverse American/Western exceptionalism. Treating the West as uniquely capable of moral evil and oppression is just a different kind of Americentrism and Eurocentrism. It treats the West as fundamentally, unchangeably different from the rest of the world, which it just isn't, and it denies the rest of the world their very human capacity for great good and great evil independent of the machinations of foreign powers.

For more of my thoughts of this, see post.

wouldn’t it be so funny if we as normal americans reclaimed the american flag from the fascist “patriots” on the alt-right

[moonymeloncholymoney]

˙⋆✮ will to live?

summary: You knew you would get your dream job, but you expected to work with whiny actors on drugs and skimpy wannabe actresses, not with a man who you'd give your heart to. word limit: 900 pairing: Danny Ramirez x desi!reader warnings: none, Danny and Lewis bromance ;). an: OMG this is the first chapter of my first series and I just hope you guys love it as much as I do♡.

Resume? Check.

Official documents? Check.

Cute outfit?Check.

Lipgloss? Check.

Will to live. The sound of your diary closing shut echoed through the slightly washed-out white walls of the bathroom.

The white, in contrast to your honey-colored skin, making you feel like an odd pea in the pod. You knew you had to fight for this position, maybe even harder than the other countless women and men sitting outside in the lobby.

Being proud of your culture and heritage came with a large Costco bag filled with struggle and discrimination in America, a lot of kids and adults too, still struggled with their identity as a whole even after being born and bought up in the “home of the brave” and “land of free”. However, you never backed down from being who you were and representing where you came from. and that is why you were pretty sure you were going to lose this job, because you weren’t one to adjust and you had a feeling they wouldn’t either. You stood in front of the large bathroom mirror, taking a final look at yourself before you lost yourself to the world of Hollywood. “You’re gonna be okay.”

“I am NOT okay!” Danny proclaimed as he stood on the center table of his living room as he stared into the soul of (OUR BELOVED AND FAVOURITE) Lewis, who was currently engrossed in the video game in front of him. Headphones on and an eyeroll on the way, Lewis finally looked up from the screen to find Danny in a state of distress…and on top of a table. “Yes Robert, what do you want now? More money? A check? A car? My soul?” “Haha wow super funny.” He said as he got off the table with an expression that clearly said he wasn’t in the mood for jokes at all. “okay fine, what happened? Why are you brooding bro?” considering the fact Danny was one of the most chill people Lewis had ever met, so he knew something was up and it was serious. “there is a problem, a very big one” he said as paced around the living room while looking anywhere but at Lewis. “Yes, I know that, but would you do me the pleasure of telling me what it is?” Danny looked at Lewis. Lewis looked at Danny. Both in an intense staring competition, Danny with eyes of a toddler who looked like he broke his mom’s favorite vase and Lewis with eyes of the mom. “you killed somebody” “I lost my agent”

“WHAT-no, why would i- WHY WOULD YOU THINK THAT?!” Danny was sure Lewis had lost his mind as he raised his hands in his defense. “YOU SAID YOU LOST YOUR AGENT SO I DON’T KNOW I THOUGHT YOU KILLED HIM?” Lewis stood up, both facing each other while the sheer static of the video game behind them acted as background music. Danny clenched his eyes shut and took a deep breathe before he held Lewis by his shoulders and looked him dead in the eye. “My agent, he went on this god knows how long of a leave and now I am agentless. I am an agentless actor Lewis and I need a new agent. Like now. Cause like, I have one of my biggest movie’s premiers coming up and I mean I know its wrong on my part, but I was maybe too dependent on my last agent so I practically don’t know how to handle this on my own” He sighed the longest sigh ever before ending his rant session, expecting Lewis to say something. But Lewis didn’t say anything. Instead, he walked to the kitchen, filled a glass with water, walked up to Danny and handed him the glass of water. “I’ll get you an agent.” “Oh my god I love you so much, I could kiss you right now!" “No.”

“Why should we recruit you as an agent?” the company’s executive asked, she was the toughest nut to crack, being a woman yourself, you knew how much she would’ve struggled to get where she is now. Sitting in front of you, with a stern look on her face as she asked you the most important question of the day.  

You imagined yourself in her position. With years of experience being displayed in the way you dressed and maintained yourself. Sitting in front of young girl like yourself, asking the same question she asked you. “Because I am patient. Patient enough to handle all kinds of clients. The moody ones, the self-obsessed narcissist ones, the depressed yet talented ones, the singer turned actor, the actor turned singer, the lazy ambitious ones and the ones don’t fall into any of these categories. I know my work and I do it with diligence.” You picked up the glass of water kept in front of you and gulped it all down. Your heart was beating so loud you could hear it in your ears but you couldn't let them see not when you knew how important this was to you. “You do realize that everyone who applies for this post knows that being patient is required. What makes you stand out?” the bald man in grey asks, testing your aptitude. You ponder. You analyze. You paraphrase. and then you say it, “I belong to a brown household sir, we’ve got enough personalities belonging to a person and trust me I’ve lived with more than one generation under the same roof so you best believe I get the job done.” The panel was stoic. Expressions hard as stone as if turned by medusa herself.

“Welcome to the team, sweetheart.”

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Reblog would be appreciated:))