#have nothing against others getting inspired tho

[redd956]

Magic system ideas I want to explore

Language = the magic, maybe language is how you cast it, maybe everybody is born with a body language base magic, but other languages increase it. Different regions speak different languages because that magic is attuned to their way of life or culture. Or maybe the language comes first, new dialects slowly drifting into new groups of magic.

Industrial/Military inspired magical abilities and enhanced powers, that are assigned to every child at birth deciding their role in society. Soldier children are never allowed to leave the military, and dodging it is an even greater task. Imagine siblings watching the other be whisked away for war, feeling guilty that they were assigned factory helpful magics instead. They have the choice to sign up and use their fire ability to perhaps aid their sibling in war, but that would lead them down one of the most brutal military paths. (military craft = alive???)

Magic comes from killing powerful magic beings. Becoming magic from doing so doesn’t make you a powerful magic being, but instead a mortal with magic. Eventually the mortal will die and the magic will leave the realm alongside them, a group finds that magic is evenly dispersed across them. The strongest amount a mortal can get is to kill a magical being alone. No one knows where these magical beings come from, and if they’re slowly hunting them into extinction for magic to never be seen again.

Familiar magic system, simple as that children find their familiars someday, and magic and whatnot comes with that. Familiars would primarily be beautiful immortal spirits that are animals, but I'm not against the idea that perhaps they could be something else. Something even wilder.

[kirbmey]

　 ྀི︶˚̣̣̣⠀⠀⠀vacations w bigbrother!caleb⠀⠀⠀˚̣̣̣︶ ྀི

synopsis: you’re having a summer dinner with your family and friends, but caleb gets angry at an old gossipy lady ( ｡ •` ⤙´• ｡)

tw: reader is implied to be smaller than caleb, reader is very feminine, dumbification, slurs like ‘whore’, possessive!caleb, stepcest, manipulation, dark romance, usage of ‘gege’ and ‘big brother’, slightly inspired by the movie ‘call me by your name’, caleb is kinda aggressive not towards reader tho, etc.

there was this tradition running in your family where you would move to your summer villa for the whole summer season, inviting some of your parents' friends over as well; needless to say, your step brother was also included in the plan.

you were always excited about these, being able to wear your a little too short summer dresses in front of your big brother without question to every dinner, adoring giving yourself a cute look for caleb to see, only wanting to be pretty for your big brother ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

this night was nothing different, you wore this pale pink sundress that left little to the imagination along with some other pink accessories, wearing the necklace he gifted you; you never took it off.

every night your housemaid would set up the long and old wooden table in the patio with refreshing food, all the people in the villa gathering to spend time together after their tiring activities in the beach. you sat in front of caleb as usual, feeling his warm palm rest in the fat of your thigh and caressing it with his thumb in circular motions.

he loved to stare at your angelic-like features while talking about whatever thing you were talking about with your aunt, sometimes forgetting that the rest of your family was there and that he had to keep appearances to any curious eyes.

⠀⠀　　“so, caleb?” he turns his head way too fast at his name being called, getting out of the trance he got caught on by staring at your red plump lips. “how are you doing with your studies?” a friend from your parents asks, he didn’t even know her name.

⠀⠀　　“mmh, well, all good. gotta study more than expected but she helps me with that, I have a hard time focusing, you know…” he answers with a boyish smile and tender voice, pinching your skin when pronouncing your name.

⠀⠀　　“yeah! gege is working really hard for this career, and i try to help him as much as i can” you voice an answer in a sweet tone, him knowing the reality of this said help.

⠀⠀　　“i see, you two seem really close, if i didn’t know you i’d think you ar—”, “well, that cuts it for tonight i’m afraid” your mother intervenes, knowing how annoying her friend gets regarding this topic. they even argued several times about how your relationship should be checked on since it looked very inappropriate from the outside, but she refused to listen, being a blind believer on your innocent sister-brother interactions, thinking caleb it’s just very clingy and protective about you.

a fierce blush creeps onto your cherub cheeks, feeling embarrassed at anyone questioning your relationship with your gege.

wasn’t it normal, having your big brother hold you for way too long, getting kissed on the lips before going to sleep or even helping you with the strange ache between your thighs when he rubbed himself against you to keep you warm at night?

he made sure to keep you away from anything or anyone vulgar, wanting to cherish your pure mind and thoughts for himself to slowly corrupt, carefully making you believe that good girls don’t go out with boys, don’t kiss anyone but their big brothers and reaching him to ask for help regarding any small issue a normal person could take care of themselves, but not you. you were too stupid ૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱ა

and just like that, he made you his little doll for him and him alone, emptying your silly head from anyone but him. you depended on him for anything.

your nipples got hard in the winter? don’t worry, he will slowly rub them while you sat on his lap with his cock buried deep inside you, just to keep you warm. whispering sweet nothings to you while leaving wet kisses along your neck, smiling to himself when listening to your adorable whimpers. he had to use every single trace of self control to not break your puffy pussy in two right there.

he actually never properly fucked you, just played with you like adults do (..◜ᴗ◝..) nothing wrong with that, right?

you wanted to help him focus on his homework? you knew how easily distracted your gege could get and you just wanted to help! (•ᴖ•｡) so he told you to get on your knees, making sure it was on top of some soft cushion, and commanded you to start pampering small kisses on his bulge. just like the ones you gave him all over the face when you were happy to see him ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

so you kept your hands on your lap like the good girl you were to approach his big bulge hiding under his grey sweatpants, leaving sweet little smoochies all over his prince's parts (as he called yours your princess’s parts), and leaving light traces of saliva on the way.

just a few minutes like that, completely focused on the task your gege gave you to please him as you always wanted, and he came undone fully clothed. you looked up at him trough your long lashes, surprised to see that creamy liquid stain his pants, the same one he made you lick from his fingers sometimes before (⁠ᗒ⩊ᗕ ྀི)

he can’t help but laugh fondly at your expression, caressing your cheek before slipping his thumb into your mouth, feeling how you wrapped your warm tongue against the pad of his finger.

now you were both heading to your shared bedroom, the inside of the villa specially silent since everybody else stayed outside, smoking and updating on the latest gossips while drinking the leftover wine.

caleb was mad, how dare that bitch even think about questioning you two? he knew what was best for you, he was your shiny armor knight, your big brother who would always protect you. what was wrong with that?

your tiny heels clicked trough the long and empty halls, chasing after caleb as your short legs could; he was stomping, and he was truly angry.

you never saw him so mad ever since he caught you watching some filthy porn a friend of yours sent you when you told her that you didn’t do that kind of thing since your brother told you to not to. needless to say, he made sure to beat her up real good so she wouldn’t get any close to you, ever. but you didn’t need to know what he did, he’s just protecting you! (づ_ど)

once you catch up with him inside said bedroom you pout, playing with the lacy hem of your dress as you close the door behind you. he sits down on the edge of the bed, holding his head between his hands as he takes deep breaths. he had to take care of that whore later, noted.

⠀⠀　　“gege? what’s wrong? did i do something bad?” you inquisitively ask, taking careful steps to stand before him, still playing around with your clothes in a nervous manner.

no answer from him, just a deep breath and a big pair of hands holding the back of your thighs to bring you closer, burying his face in the plush of your belly while featherly kissing it.

⠀⠀　　“no, doll, you did nothing wrong.” he blurs out against the soft fabric of your dress. “it’s just mom’s friend, she made me angry.” you feel his hands creep closer to your ass, holding yourself onto his broad shoulders.

you knew caleb didn’t like the questioning of your relationship, he liked to keep things private, a secret only for you two. your silly head couldn’t find an answer, what were you supposed to say when his skilled fingers removed your cottony panties down and he kept his pinkish gaze on you like that?

⠀⠀　　“you’re mine, pips, you know everything i do is for your own good.” you knew it, that old lady’s words meant nothing to you. “what would you do without me, hmm?”

you heard the side zipper of the dress and before you know it, you’re fully naked in front of him. it’s not the first time, but you can’t help feeling a little ashamed. he’s so perfect, tall and fit, and you don’t match his toned body.

you cross your arms in front of your breasts, hiding your blushing face underneath your hair, feeling his hand once again come up to your chin to lift it up while the other one holds your wrists a little bit too hard.

⠀⠀　　“don’t dare hiding from me, princess, you know i love the sight.” he confesses in a breath, restarting the trail of kisses from your soft belly down to your pubes, rubbing the tip of his nose against the little hairs.

you can’t help but whine, readjusting your hands on top of his head, caressing his soft dark locks trough your slim fingers. “gege, don’t do that, you know it feels achy.” you complain in a peachy voice.

he falls on blind ears, paying all of his attention to your princess’s parts, making you separate your legs by holding your inner thighs before lowering his head to clit level, smothering the growing bud with open-mouthed kisses.

he slowly toyed with your dripping entrance, circling the ring muscle with his index finger while paying attention to your pearl, lost in the sweet and sour flavor of yours. “fuck, doll, what do i have to do to make everyone understand that you’re my good girl, hmm?”

you don’t even listen to him, too caught up in the sensation of said finger caressing your velvety walls, throwing your head back while you pushed your hips closer to his face, letting out an adorable moan when feeling a second one peeking in.

⠀⠀　　“i see, you’re too stupid to answer that.” he said in a condescending way, fucking you with his long fingers slow but deep, even biting your clit at times. “don’t you see you need me to do everything for you?” one harsh thrust, reaching that gummy spot. “to tie your shoes, to wash your hair, even to dress you up in the morning?”

you were a moaning mess, your hair falling like a cascade at your back and sticking to your sweaty forehead, your toes curling at the way his skilled fingers toyed with your weak spot, feeling how he curved them inside you, that strange sensation knotting in your belly. “gege, i feel weird again, stop, stop” the tears in the corner of your eyes fall away to your neck.

⠀⠀　　“let go f’me, angel, you know your big brother likes it.” and he loved it, the taste of your juices, sweet enough to be addictive. before you realize you were creaming his fingers, feeling a strong arm wrap around your waist to keep you from falling. “good girl, you did so good for me”.

his murmurs fall quiet when he laps at your pussy to take every single drop of you in his mouth, moaning at the taste. your head falls on top of his, trying to catch your breath while he wraps you with both arms and lifts you up, heading to the bathroom to clean you up.

he first washed your sweaty body and clothed you with one of his huge t shirts, you falling asleep mid-bath and him taking you to bed carefully, making sure you were comfortable before taking care of his hard dick and rubbing himself against your discarded panties, staining them with cum not many minutes later (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

he threw them inside one of his designated drawers and hugged your smaller frame into his naked chest, drifting to sleep.

your big brother loved you so so much!

a/n: let me know if you liked it, i want feedback! also, idk if this was too long, i got carried away hehe (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

— masterlist.

[seiwas]

₊˚⊹。and my body keeps saying (it's yours) | gojo satoru

wc: 1.6k

summary: gojo thinks this is different, new, almost like it’s the first time for everything.

contains: f!reader in mind but no specifics are mentioned, 18+/mature/soft-slight n*ft/w, sex with feelings (it’s really just vanilla tho!), first time!, there’s an awkward bit but that’s intentional!, lots of nervous feelings! but also lots of intimacy!

a/n: for nonie.🫧 who asked about what it would be like for their first time! title is inspired by an emotional oranges song, devotion (which i used as music inspo for the entire fic too + troye sivan, what a heavenly way to die). this is also my first time writing anything close to n*fw so please be kind! idk if i’ll ever write one again; takes place between tell me about love (show me how) and so this is what it means to be in love!

collection masterlist: conversations on love 02. tell me about love (show me how) <- you are here -> +02 (extra). look my way, you're what i crave

MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT.

It’s a touch—

—fingertips brushing the edge of his jaw, trailing down his neck, lightly, delicately.

Gojo kisses you beneath the glow of your bathroom lights and he twitches, just a little bit. 

“Sorry,” you stop, attempting to pull away from him immediately. 

His neck is sensitive, always has been since Toji. The mark has faded over the years; what used to be a line running through the shadow of his jawline is now nothing, but you know the feeling lingers, still. You’ve tried to avoid the area as much as you could—while sparring, hugging, kissing; holding him in moments as intimate as this. But sometimes, your fingers slip, and he jolts, so you move away, apologetic—

And he wishes that you didn’t, wishes that he didn’t have to react that way when all he really wants is for you to hold him like this.

He stares at you now, lips puffed and kiss-bitten, and thinks, he shouldn’t even be here—

—at 2:00 a.m., in your apartment, fresh out of a three-day assignment he caught the last train for, just to see you. 

He shouldn’t even be here, bone-tired in a black t-shirt and track pants he couldn’t be bothered with—there just wasn’t enough time to change out of it. 

And he really shouldn't even be here, except, he cut the assignment two days short, rushed through it, restless, eager at the thought of getting back soon. 

All because he missed you. 

Gojo keeps you close, his fingers splayed on the base of your spine, warm and pressing. You can’t read him, his next move, but his eyes hold lightning crackling. He takes your hand and guides it back to where he’s weakest, underneath his jaw, on his neck—healed skin and tissue, his lifeline to you.

“Keep it,” he murmurs, eyes piercing. 

He still twitches when you touch his skin, but it’s always been involuntary. You should know that it could never be because of you, your hands that hold every good thing his heart carries. 

You lean in first, tiptoeing, nudging his nose with yours and your lips hovering. His pulse point rests beneath your fingertips—can you feel how fast it’s beating? Just from having you near him? 

The tips of his hair tickle your forehead and he swallows, throat bobbing. It’s impossible to resist him when he’s this boyish, this charming, so you kiss his lips once, before pulling away, teasing. He bites his lips, red blooming against pink, and you don’t know exactly what you’re anticipating—

But he leans in. 

When you kiss again, the feeling is familiar, a memory of trembling lips and shaky breaths by a bathroom door that isn’t yours. He doesn’t tremble anymore, isn’t as stiff when he has your lips memorized among many other things, but Gojo still flushes the same way your cheeks heat up and your breaths intermingle at the same rate your hearts race.  

You follow where the lights have diffused into your hallway, this dance with him a push-and-pull you’ve done a few times before. He keeps his palm flat on your lower back, pushing you closer, while pulling you towards your bedroom door.  

His hands slide to your waist, dipping you, grip tightening as you bite his lips, tugging. He moans softly, voice low when your hands rake through his hair, the vibrations rippling through your mouth. Your fingers grasp at the short strands of hair at the back of his head, sighing when his lips are released from yours. 

There’s a moment where you catch his eyes, pupils blown a dangerous blue—a sky swallowing you whole before he begins trailing kisses down your neck, nips and licks evidence of just how greedy he is with you. 

A heat builds within you, rooted deep in your belly as you stay pressed against the outline on his crotch. 

It’s hard to imagine a time before all this, how he even struggled to hold your hand when he touches you now like this. 

You stumble over his feet as he backs into your bedroom, steadied only by his hold on you. You chuckle, a small ‘oops’, so sweet, as your collarbone clashes with his teeth. He smiles, lips curled against your skin as he teases, “So clumsy,” 

He’s kissed you this much before, has held you this tight, and touched you much more but this feeling between you now, he can tell—

Tonight is different. 

You lead him this time, to the edge of your bed as you keep him closer, hands all over him. When you lie down, lower lip caught between your teeth, you smile shyly but your eyes burn sinfully, and Gojo wonders if you know that this is what he sees when he’s dreaming. 

He moves closer, your mattress dipping as he hovers above you, arms caging the sides of your face. His head is spinning, eyes zeroing in on the skin exposed by the single button undone on your pajama top. 

When you cup his cheeks, thumb running across his swollen lips—

He thinks he might go crazy. 

You have no idea what you just did. 

He takes a breath before pressing every bit of his longing onto your neck, kissing, sucking, licking, imprinting proof that he was here, with you. It’s red and blotchy, situated right underneath your ear and it’s one too many but still not enough—for him, never enough.

You gasp, tugging at the hem of his shirt, and it’s overwhelming, this feeling. As quickly as it escalated, Gojo freezes, as if you’ve burned him, as if he’s caught up to what could possibly be happening, and it’s—

It’s a lot. 

He pulls away slowly, eyes wide and breath shaky. The air is thick, hot and heavy, and this—where this is going is something he’s never done before, not entirely. 

You sit up, alarmed, hands cradling his face carefully. His eyes are frantic, nervous, blinking at a pace that only makes you worried. 

“We can stop,” you mumble, lowering your hands to take his, gently.

He sees you, hair a mess, marked his, beautiful, and  he just wants to make sure—that you’re okay with this, that you want this, with him. Truly. 

“Do you want to?” he asks, a sky you could fall into, “Honestly.” 

He breathes out, staring. You gulp before shaking your head. “Do you?”  

And he doesn’t have to think much about it, really, because of course, he doesn’t want to stop. 

How could he, when it’s you?

He shakes his head too and you smile.

You squeeze his hand, guiding it to the buttons of your top, “Okay—”

“We’ve never…” he hesitates, trailing off.

It’s weird because it isn’t anything he hasn’t seen before; you’ve both done things at the very least, just never all the way. And now, with the knowledge that that very fact is going to change—it feels different, new, like it’s the first time for everything. 

You nod, stroking his knuckles to reassure him, “You said you’re a fast learner, right?” 

The nervous laugh you give is oddly comforting, and he remembers that first kiss and the single thought that if he doesn’t do this now, how much longer ‘till he does? 

So he takes it—

—unbuttons your top one-by-one, and he’s a bit shaky, hands clammy, but he gets it off eventually. Then goes his shirt, and your shorts, his pants, a struggle to get past his ankles until you’re both bare, cheeks hot while giggling, like first loves—and maybe it is. 

Gojo sees you stripped down, uncovered, wholly you for the first time and thinks he could die. 

It’s vulnerable and strange as he hovers over you this time, skin-to-skin, but you fit together this way, just right. 

You giggle some more, unable to hide your nervousness. It’s a habit you have—laughing in inappropriate situations, but he thinks it’s cute, so he does it right back. 

Your fingers trace his eyebrows, down to his nose and cheeks, then to his lips, still red and bitten, “You’re so pretty, Satoru. Not fair.” 

He blushes, tips of his ears and neck flushing, “‘Course,” he kisses your nose, pulling away to get a good look at you.

“Have to be if I’m with you.” 

It’s cheesy, and you roll your eyes, laughing full-on but he smiles wider and it feels good knowing that he’ll forever get to share this moment with you. 

“I, uh,” he mumbles, trying to find the words, “have to prep.” 

“Oh, yeah, right,” you move, hands reaching for him between you, but he catches your wrist before you touch him, stopping you. 

“Don’t,” he says, firm, face red as he looks straight at you. “I might not…” he doesn’t continue but you know what he means, so you nod, pulling away. 

His hand trails down your body, inching closer to where you need him to be, and it’s sweet you think, because he kisses your lips once before asking, “Can I?” as if he still has to.

You nod, before whispering, “Don’t ask next time.” 

Next time, you said and it rings, echoes in his head as a promise for more—that this is just the beginning. 

So he touches you, in every way he thinks you should be, in every way he knows you want to be. 

There’s a gasp, then a moan as he leaves another mark on your neck, and you’re so close when he stops. 

You whimper, but you know what’s next, and you see it in his eyes as he prepares himself, fingers discarding a square packet, “You’ll let me know?” he whispers, soft, concerned.

You’ll let me know if I hurt you? he means, and his eyes stare into yours, sincere. 

You nod, brushing your lips against his, and when you feel it—it’s unusual, maybe a bit uncomfortable but he’s there kissing it away. 

There’s an adjustment, a few awkward positions until he finds it, then he goes slow, rhythmic. Your sighs grow louder and he groans, withholding, then you say it—

“‘Toru,”

—by his ear, soft and breathy, and he’s gone, stilling and spilling, a part of him forever yours, irrevocably. 

thank you notes: to nonie.🫧 for asking about this in the first place, and to niku (@stellamancer) for emotional support and for reading this first!! + for helping me go over it!! i love u niku 😭

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[cirqosmos]

Did I, A Side Character Became the Male Lead's Wife?!

2023 | 13+ | ONESHOT | YANG JUNGWON × READER | -> PART 2

SUMMARY you — a side character in a royal novel doing absolutely nothing but enjoy your rich ass yet boring life, only watching over the female lead and doing your job in protecting her, only for a pair of kittenish eyes to fall not upon the female lead but on you, unfortunately.

AUTHOR'S NOTE not me writing a whole ass oneshot at 5am bcs of that sweet ask from that one anon, imma name u serotonin dopamine anon lmao- and jungwon bae u r truly my muse.. also inspired by sum manhwas cuz I binge read 90+ chapters in less than a day 💀💀💀 plus happy 900+ followers for me <333 mom wake up I'm famous even tho I'll never let u know what my secret writing blog is about 😊😊

a side character, how cute?

well, you only came to know of this very horrible (not really) fact that you're nothing close to a main character's vibes cause look at you babe, where's the sparkling shiny starry dust on you as you walked through the red carpet at the ball?

and did they even spare a glance at you? unfortunately, nope. because the female lead, Liz; was your enemy, at least in how your character was written in the novel by the goddamn author which was you.

yes, that's right!

you, a hella introverted author dwelling in the deepest corner of her room doing nothing but spent an ungodly amount of hours creating the perfect and enchanting characters after crying for major character death of a fic a few years ago. wiping your dripping tears off your cheeks in a comical way as you pull open your laptop and risk your 20/20 vision for life, just so you can reverse the aching pain in your chest that you wore a thick ass glasses now.

Liz, the female lead. Swooning over her was your religion, throwing not one but a ten whole buckets explaining how perfect she was—or how tremendously kind she was, delicate and utterly sweet. patting yourself on the back for creating such a goddess of a character, so it's only wise for you to give her a fitting male lead, right? Okay we'll talk about that later since it's about you right now.

So how did you end up in your novel? Well, because of one fateful day of you doing absolutely nothing but taking a goddamn rest, and whoever the god in heaven that just randomly decided to throw you in the novel you wrote yourself—must be utterly insane. Perfect indeed!

it took you a humongous realisation to see yourself in a dark green puffy dress that represents jealousy, envy, and betrayal—which also represents the side character standing behind the female lead on the thick cover of your book. you've originally written her as that wicked best friend that uses her seductive way of speech to seduce men, and at last turning her back at the female lead by accusing her of a horrendous crime.

her fatal fate consists of her head being snapped by the guillotine, unfortunately. but for you, not really, cause you are so in for destroying wicked characters but jokes on you—you're now in the body of that character.

pfft, can't the gods put you in a character that lives near the sea, with your straw hat on and as you drank your lemon juice away from the public drama, angsty dialogues, cringe moments you yourself have created because you don't have atleast an ounce of social skills that's why you pour it all on your characters.

"oh my apologies, milady— pfft—" three ladies sticking with each other like a super glue, had thrown the glass of wine on the female lead's gown—earning a series of gasps from everyone who saw but you were sure won't pay an ounce of consideration towards her as you had written almost everyone in this novel as "the world against the weak, fragile character."

oh, right. the hyena laughters of those you describe in episode 3 of "the flashy ball"; the three evil sisters, because why not? they added the extra spices in your tongue to the point you couldn't wait for them to get slap by the female lead or possibly someone.

ah, the tremendous satisfaction.

and you were one of that person whose hands itching to smash their skull apart, you cringed enormously at them as they were the ones that brought total trouble wherever they went or whoever are unlucky enough to get in their way. unfortunately, you seal your female lead's fate with them as she need some little obstacles, doesn't she?

you as hell were not sure what you're supposed to do, whether to just let things happen as the story goes or you do the male lead's job in protecting the female lead cause you have no idea why is he taking such a long time to appear, when he should've made his grand entrance at the freaking introduction?

and you wrote it that way cause you got fed up with male leads making their first appearance at the ball, and somehow quickly gaining the female lead's heart like Cinderella cause dear lord where's the slow burn?

just say, you're a conservative grandma type of a mindset or that you are skeptical over love at first sight. yep, you're right. that's why you ain't gonna let your precious female lead get bullied in front of your very eyes. she's like your granddaughter right now, seriously.

a shriek echoed through the entire ball, gaining everyone's attention. "oh my god! my dress! you— lady Liz! who did you even brought with you?!"

oh right, you forgot it's your first time at the ball either. "my apologies, milady. it's just that i saw a bunch of hyenas roaming around.." you rubbed the back of your neck.

"hyenas?! guards—"

"chill, what's the commotion here?" a bright dashing blonde haired man in a red royal suit came around, with sets of stars dusting upon his form which you already realise to be part of the main characters but unfortunately you forgot. you ain't having that extra superhuman memory just because you are an author.

the bunch of hyenas before you reasoned with the prince, but you slowly realise that the prince was none other than Prince Jake. Inspired by that one puppy image idol from fourth generation of kpop, you were apparently slurping your noodles in the local restaurant when you watched him imitating a dog from the tv, causing you to choke on your noodles.

it's safe to say, he's hot enough that he had to be part of your main characters. aah, that signature dashing smile of his as he defended the female lead with his wisely chosen string of words which immediately melted everyone's heart at sight.

times like this you wish you were actually the female lead, but the logical side of you beg to differ; you are not emotionally capable of spewing cringy romantic words for that's only reserved for writing. So thank you, i'll pass.

Surely, Prince Jake ain't the male lead for your precious female lead but you just let them converse with each other despite her with her absolute kindness, urging you to talk with them too, atleast a word. it sort of felt for a moment like she was trying to match you with the prince.

like no please, you'd rather not to. hot guys are hot, but they're not worth the emotional investment past the fangirling section.

plus the prince doesn't seem interested you as he doesn't spare not even one look at you which obviously you couldn't care any less, you sneakily went out the ball after a series of mishaps—for example your heavy puffy ass gown with its sole purpose to only look pretty but the reality ain't that pretty to say the least, panting like a dog as you took each step towards the entrance all while cussing yourself for ignoring your logical part of brain that you shouldn't have been adding humongous useless words to describe the gown just to make it sound extremely pleasing to the readers.

now you're the one to bear the consequences of your own writing, the fuck.

"one! two!—" a long, long, depressing sigh echoes. "three! ah!—" consequently falling upon your face, what a perfect day indeed. you just wanted to go home, tuck yourself in your comforting blanket, eat your hot cup of ramen or indulge yourself in the sea of chocolate while daydreaming of your favourite idols and fictional characters.

not this awful disaster of you getting tangled in the courts' affairs.

"i suppose, you need help, milady?"

oh no, certainly not. don't call me milady, pretend i do not exist for i certainly do not have the social skills to pretend that i like you, or form a decent conversation especially with men.

"milady?"

you curled yourself, burying your head into the comfort of your gowns. wondering quite a bit of how odd you look in the middle of the hallway.

"milady?" his voice-like whisper came closer, obviously standing beside you right now. "are you okay?"

fuck it. "please, i beg of you to kindly leave me alone as my day has been utterly ruined and—" oh wait, he seems oddly familiar. those lush fluffy hair and kittenish orbs that only softens among those he were close enough.

prince jungwon.

oh! the male lead, oh my god! your jaw hang so low it fell on the ground, your eyes sparkled in dozens of star like universe as you took in his marvelous beauty that you had spent creating meticulously after studying all the '101 rules of how to create the perfect male lead that had the readers heart evaporating & a huge ass green forest that certainly would cause blazing flames'.

"oh my god! you look absolutely gorgeous, i've done it really well didn't i?! oh my god!"

"o-oh—! absolutely, you did well!" he immediately replied back, pressing his lips tight nervously.

wait what? what did he say? oh shit, oh well, covering your mouth instantly as you accidentally let it out before the prince, your precious male lead that you solely created for the female lead. "i—.."

the prince, your very precious character—obviously taken aback with a slight blush dusting of his adorable cheeks as he raise his fist up to his lips, coughing a couple of seconds. a personality trait you very well are familiar of cause that's how you wrote him when he fall in love with the female lead.

your eyes ogled out at that familiar sight, screaming at the back of your mind—wait, wait! you're not supposed to fall in love with me, you idiot! go back! go inside the ball, she's inside there!

"that's oddly brave of you, milady. i'd certainly go as far as to say that i've never seen such traits from a lady." kitten eyes softening at you, crouching down as he lend both of his hands for you. you raised your eyebrow confusingly at what is he trying to pull at but you realise he was intending to get you up.

"u-uhm? uh, sorry. i could get up on my own, actually." yeah, that's what you did. pushing yourself back up despite his protests because you ain't gonna let him fall any further for you, nah uh, not in this life, your mission is to get him and your female lead together inside the frames of birds holding flower wreaths as they went on to their happily ever after.

not with you!

"may i have the honour to know your name, though, milady?" why the fuck isn't he leaving, what is there so interesting in you that he is still standing here asking you such generic questions.

you shouldn't be having the characters attention on you as you obviously wrote it that way, and that even though your character in the novel had tried to get the prince's heart, despite resorting to foul actions, that he never truly had been attracted to her despite this characters' seductive aura.

for you squealed so loud at the scene you wrote, with jungwon putting her in her place. "you are not her, and you would never be her." along with the bunch of your readers hosting a flamboyant celebration under the comments, screaming over how loyal he was.

so what in the actual fuck is this?

"you don't need my name." you nonchalantly answered.

"my apologies?"

"you see, my best friend is in the ball—" you gestured your hands to the entrance of the ballroom, "and she needs your help more than i do."

"wait? why would she need my help?" his eyebrows knitted together in utter confusion as you pushed him through his back.

"of course, she do! don't ask anything!"

"wait!— my name is!" he forcefully turn to face you again, but you immediately covered his mouth with your hands—kabedonning him against the wall.

an excruciating silence occured between you two in the silent hallway, Jungwon freezing to his core when your other hand shoot beside his head.

"listen i don't need your name, dear sir." you emphasise each word, you certainly don't need to know his name nor his status as a prince, not wanting to risk any possible connection with him judging by how he acted before you just now.

"b-but!" his words were muffled into the void as you cupped his mouth tighter.

"shh, shh. stop talking and listen, will you?!"

jungwon nodded slowly, what an odd situation he was in right now, he thought. but somehow he likes it.

"so first step, is go inside the ballroom. second, look for the lady in pink gown, and third—"

"t-third?"

"third is tell her your name! my best friend needs it more than i do!" you release him from your grasp as you went to swing open the huge double door, "now go!" waving a goodbye before kicking his body through the entrance, pulling the door back with your entire strength despite his protests.

oh of course, you finally let out a gag after suppressing it in front of him the entire time as you've never had a proper conversation with a male without stuttering, somewhat a sad tragedy for you, unfortunately. you felt quite guilty about your readers who swoon over the romances you wrote between your leads, weeping over how you're so good at it—not knowing you're a complete introvert with only a gigantic ass dictionary with you.

finally, the male lead and female lead's romances are about to start! you squealed with your hands clasping as you went on your way to the carriage, gesturing for the rider to embark on the way to your heavenly puffy manor with the widest big grin ever that it had him questioning you, "has any gentleman had caught your heart, milady? a couple of hours ago, you were often beyond distraught to attend the ball but insisted when you heard Lady Liz was going."

"oh, you silly." you giggled as you swayed your hand, "of course, that's one of the reasons. but there's another one.."

"may i ask what is it, then?"

you leaned in closer, urging him to get closer as you whispered. "i got the chance to become a Cupid!"

"a Cupid?" you squealed before the old man, hopping like a child for quite awhile before flying into the carriage much to his surprise, but only shook his head in amusement—appalled by how his mistress had changed so much.

"so?" you couldn't help yourself from pulling out the widest eccentric grin at the female lead, extremely curious and ecstatic over what romances had bloom between her and Jungwon.

Liz raises her eyebrow in confusion, "so?.. what do you mean, milady?"

you shrugged, falling back to your seat as you raise your eyebrow in a comical way, "that.." whispering ever so seductively, "prince."

"p-prince?

"yes!" the teacup rattles at your excitement oozing so much that you tapped the table a couple of times. "what happen? what's the tea~"

she lets out a soft giggle, a bit amused by your excitement. "i have no idea what you're trying to imply, milady."

"wait? what are you saying? didn't the prince went to you last night?"

Liz shook her head slowly, her expressions clearly stating that she absolutely don't know what and who you were talking about as a smile pulled up on her lips once again, taking a few sip from her teacup.

veins popped out from your neck as it dawned on you, your head snapped towards the castle on top of the mountain, you stupid of a prince! you cussed at him endlessly at the back of your mind, tightening your fist as your ears and nose fuming in anger. how dare he? he didn't listen to you at all? what in the actual fuck? would this somehow divert the original route? a dozen question arise into your mind one after another, causing you to let out an exaggerated sigh.

facepalming yourself as you imagined the imaginary heavenly light on top of you, weeping to yourself about how tremendously unlucky you are to have a hard headed male lead. it's impossible, you have never added a trait so irritating like this in his profile so how could this happen?

"milady?" the gentle voice of your precious female lead pulled you out of your inner desperation, you leaned in closer, whining so much over how unlucky you were and such, the rest only being in your mind as you pouted.

"ah, i remember now, the prince—"

"WHAT?—" you immediately seated yourself after giving her a potential heart attack, "my apologies, what did you actually.. remember?"

"i assume you were talking about the prince from yesterday? prince jake?"

"no not that bitch— oh certainly not him, ehem.." you took a couple of exaggerated coughs, avoiding her evident confusion. "isn't there a prince.. name jungwon with you that night?"

"oh my goodness! right! prince jungwon!" she shook her head in disbelief with her finger on her head.

right, how did you even forgot that the female lead in front of you had a "weak ass memory" in her profile description. tsk tsk, truly a forgetful author you are. you should be trying your best to remember the things you wrote before and revise it as best as you can, to avoid any possible problems in the future, atleast.

"right, how did i even forget, the prince asked me for your name, milady—"

"huh?" you look at her with confusion, as you were out of reality a couple of seconds ago. your orbs terribly widened as her words slowly sinking in to your brain. "HUH?"

ask your name?! why your name, why not hers?! what did the prince ate that night before stumbling onto your way that he had to ask for your name before the female lead—his own lover?!

laughing awkwardly, you raise your leg on top of another as you nervously swayed your hands repeatedly. "oh dear, oh dear. you might have heard it wrong, the prince?—" snorting outloud as you gestured to yourself, "asking for my name? what a funny news!"

"i didn't, milady. the prince came to me and asked me for your name, as he was immensely curious of who you are so i—"

"so what?—" you can't believe this, you really can't bring yourself to believe any words she was uttering. you should have been bestowed by the news that the prince had taken an interest in her, a hand in marriage, or anything, anything as long as you're out of the picture! "y-you didn't tell him my name, d-didn't you?"

"of course, i did!" exclaimed she did with the widest grin ever.

why are you so freaking happy over this?! clasping your head in your hands as you tragically fall on your knees causing the lady to gasp in shock, ushering to your side to get you up.

"milady?! what's wrong?"

"d-dear," you pouted as you look up to her, "you didn't tell him where my manor's at, r-right?"

she simply replied, "i did? the prince informed me that he's going to send a letter for you to be his partner to the ball."

an imaginary arrow struck back to your heart, forming a humongous hole that threatens to give you a panic attack. what? what in the actual fuck? did you accidentally did something to divert the original story you yourself created? but you didn't even do anything! you tried to do your best to keep the interaction with him as short as possible and he dared to take an interest in you?!

"milady, a letter from the royal palace had arrived for you."

"discard it. throw it. keep it away from my sight."

"milady?!" Liz and the head of the maid exclaimed in utter shock at your nonchalant answer.

"forget about it, forget about it." you clasped your forehead in utter disappointment, yet your brain were creating another plan b for this unexpected turn of events. what should you do? even more so, what would you do now that the prince had asked for you to be by his side to the ballroom?

this won't do, you won't let this happen—you had to look as unattractive and ugly as possible for him to cringe on and finally divert his attention back to the rightfully person who deserved it; the female lead.

your maids could only fall apart every single time you pluck out the enchanting gems they attached on your hair, ears and wrists. their efforts deemed futile as always as you had no mood for any sort of events, it was like a slap to their face as you initially weren't like this. you overheard them that they couldn't get used to how you were adamant in staying behind the spotlight as you often did your very best in dressing yourself up before, with the sole intention of gaining the favour of men and even more better, a prince.

of course, they are totally oblivious to your real identity. only a series of jaw gaping one after another with your change of character, at first—you had a dilemma over whether you should act like the character you created but you later scrap the idea as soon as the anxiety of being engulfed in the crowd suffocated your chest. opting to avoid as many as balls or public events as possible, but that obviously didn't work out that well since you heard of the female lead's arrival from the country side—just like you intended it to be.

and being the proud mother (writer) you are, of course why wouldn't you take one single look at her and see of how far she had came? but alas, one interaction leads to another one and so on—till finally, you became her best friend throughout her entire journey. waiting for the male lead's arrival, and watch their romances blooming and per se—but oh well, look at the situation you were in right now; total disaster.

you truly despise being in such an extravagant puffy gown and the numerous accessories hugging your skin, it's tremendously uncomfortable that you wanted to rip it off part in front of the prince standing before you right now, and right here.

asking for your hand to dance with that odd kittenish smile, that you swore you had never ever written in his personality profile; he should never have been this casual and chill over a person he had just met. he should've been cold as fuck, icy to touch, and a spiralling disaster if you dare to talk to him, so why?

plus how could he have taken an interest in you? you couldn't possibly have added a dose of the love at first sight trope, didn't you? you despised that trope to your very core.

"milady? may i?" he extended his hand before you, patiently waiting for your answer.

you had decided that you're going to reject him quick and efficient—just like the local fast food restaurant your mouth kept drooling over for, smashing a five star review for their inhuman speedy delivery.

"you see, prince jungwon. i have no desire to have a connection with you, a relationship, as a matter of fact."

he raised his eyebrow, seemingly unfazed by your bold words. "i'm curious milady, why so? have i done something that perhaps had annoyed you?"

cliché question, you loathe that. "what if i said you did?"

"then tell me, milady. i'll try my hardest to own up to you—" he took a steps forward, which causes you to immediately step back as well with a frown on your face. you can't, not in this life, to even give him a single chance to get close to you. nah uh.

"no need, and stay one meter apart, please." you pointed your index finger towards the floor and he hesitated, but complied immediately.

"i." you raise your index finger back to yourself and then at him, "don't like you. do you understand?"

"b-but?"

"stop questioning me, prince jungwon." you stayed firm in your spot, "i believe it's a common decency to step back when a lady had voiced out her opinion, a prince like you certainly would understand, am i right?"

Jungwon was clearly taken aback, the fact that you didn't give him a single chance to utter a word nor take a step closer was a hard punch to his face. It feels as if he was trying to reach for you, but you efficiently dodged it with ease. It kind of.. annoys him.

"base on how you didn't say anything anymore, i assumed we're done here! well then, goodbye prince jungwon." you turned your heels towards the entrance, not bothering to waste any time at this goddamn ball. "i hope this will be the very last." you scoffed inside your mind, eager for the story to return to it's original route, and that the prince would soon deem you useless and such—returning to the female lead's arms.

hm, now where's your precious female lead? she should've appeared right now and right here, strike the pot while it's hot!

"i'm afraid i can't back down that easily, milady." jungwon took a few steps forward, wrapping his hand round your wrist as he spun you around to face his eyes filled with blazing determination. one that you specifically added on top of his profile so that your readers would kept it in mind.

your breath hitched down your throat as you remembered there's only two reasons he could have this; one that reminds you when he was at war, shouting at the top of his voice to encourage his soldiers as they push through the enemies, and another reason of it appearing is when he have to get what he wanted, or else all hell will break loose, chaos will ensue.

right, you're truly an idiot. staying a few years in this novel without any memories, and only for it to surface back when you stumble upon the library—dozens of books flickering a series of eccentric images in your mind. It had cause you to lose all memories of important details, only emerging everytime you are presented with a situation you couldn't comprehend. such as when you forgot that the female lead had memory problems and such.

"i'll only present this choices to you, milady. since you tremendously intrigued me over how well spoken you were and fascinating indeed—" bitch, you don't even know how you had the sudden ability to confront him but you were just sure as hell that you don't want to ruin your own novel. no fucking way.

you can't let him have the upper hand on you.

"let me go." irritated to your core, you tried untangle Jungwon's tight grasp on your wrist but he won't budge even an inch which only had you fuming in anger. "i said let me go, bitch!"

the crowd emits a series of gasps and murmurs as you spun around—twisting the prince's arms which had him yelping in pain, and ultimately pinning him onto the ground. with rage consuming you that nothing was going in your way, you slammed your hands on the both side of his head. clenching your jaw and gritting your teeth as you emphasised each word. "you are one a dumb hell of a bitch, when i said i do not want to see you anymore. i mean it. so—"

"so what?" his smug look resurfaces, one that emerges whenever he was being challenged. yes, do that! he should despise you, not take an interest in you! he should loathe you so much that he can't even gaze at you for a second. excitement surged through your veins as you open your mouth, preparing for the last blow.

"so, get lost. just because you're a prince doesn't mean every girl would fall for you, idiot."

an even more louder gasp emits from the crowd as they clearly heard what you said, their jaw gaping and some covering their mouths with their hands as their mind are now bombarded with random questions over how exceedingly brave you are to insult the royal prince, and of what fate will you met now that you've done such an atrocious act.

a low giggle sent shivers down your spine, and goosebumps to riled over your neck as you realise the prince under you had the widest smirk on his face. you frowned deeply, he shouldn't be smirking! he should be fuming in anger and throwing you out of the palace at this moment. so why?!...

"oh milady, how truly fascinating you are." you let out a loud yelp when he grabbed both of your wrists, pulling you closer to his face—a dangerous close proximity against his fluttering eyelashes and lips that your breath caught up in your throat which causes your cheeks to heated up in embarrassment of what kind of position you two were in right now. "i like you, you would certainly be a perfect fit to be by my side."

"what?!" you exclaimed, jaws dropping and eyes about to pop out at his very words. "i don't want to be by your side—"

"a lady like you, i'm afraid to say, intrigues me very much..." Jungwon shots a kittenish wink right through your heart. "be my wife, milady. i'll show you how good I can be for you."

「 © talesofyuan on tumblr 2023 」 all rights reserved. do not copy or post without permission.

[dumbseee]

gentleman.

in which nothing is easy for a woman in a "man’s world."

carlos sainz jr x journalist!reader.

fc: danna paola.

note: inspired by this. sorry for the typos and mistakes :(

liked by lissiemackintosh, lilymhe, charlottesiine and 109 000 others.

y/n: living lil y/n’s dream ☁️

_

charlottesiine: missing you love!

liked by y/n.

lissiemackintosh: you’re going to kill it y/n!

liked by y/n.

fan1: i want to be her so bad

fan2: she’s living my dream

fan3: so beautiful!

fan4: good luck y/n!

fan5: what does she knows about f1?

fan6: another clout chaser… i wonder which driver will be her first victim🤣

view all comments.

_

"hi carlos! first of all, congrats on p3, you did amazing!" you smiled, your mic in hand, shaking a little and trying to stay composed as carlos stood in front of you. he smiled at you, and you swore that you could faint right now. but you had to stay professional. "thank you…?" he said so you could tell him your name. "y/n l/n, it’s my first day." you smiled again and he smiled back, handing out his hand, that you obviously shook. "i have a question for you before letting you rest, how are you going to prioritise or how is it going to work with you to test everything, do you think it will be a game changer or not?" you asked, handing him the mic, he took it and started thinking. "good question! you have great questions y/n." carlos answered first before getting cut by someone behind you. "ha! mate, if you want her in your bed, no need to lie to her." another journalist said, and you could feel your heart fall in your stomach.

you knew that kind of thing was going to happen to you during your career. because it was well known that formula one was a man’s world and women had no business in it. you took a step back and bit your lower lip to stop the tears from falling. you knew you were qualified, you knew that you worked hard for it, it was your dream! but you felt utterly disrespected and embarrassed, you couldn’t even look at carlos anymore as you tried to back up to leave. but carlos wasn’t having that, he grabbed the mic you were still holding, which surprised you and pulled you back where you were previously standing. you looked up at him and was surprised to see how pissed he looked, his warm eyes were now cold and dark, his jaw clenched and his hand flexed against the mic which showed his veins.

"how dare you call yourself a man and talk to a woman like that?" he called out, the journalist turned bright red and struggled to find his words. "she heard the disgusting words you had to say about her and it hurt her, so you better apologise right now, and loud enough for the entire paddock to hear you." the man mumbled some apologies before running away, pushing some people out of his way which made the others people surrounding you laugh. carlos looked at you and smiled, putting his hand on your shoulder. "you have a bright future ahead of you, y/n. i’m looking forward to your interview in silverstone." he winked and finally disappeared, leaving you blushing and completely lost.

carlos sainz was definitely a gentleman.

liked by charles_leclerc, charlottesiine, lissiemackintoch and 890 009 others.

carlossainz55: amazing race for us! another podium for me and charles, thanks for the support guys! we must stay focus for the next race!

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charles_leclerc: well said!

scuderiaferrari: proud of you boys!

fan1: YAAAAAAY

fan2: p2 and p3 for ferrari, i used to pray for times like this

fan3: who’s the girl on the fourth pic?

fan4: @.fan3 a random journalist

fan5: @.fan4 idk about random tho, that’s y/n l/n, the journalist carlos stood up for in autria

fan6: is that y/n l/n??

view all comments.

_

"congrats on p2 carlos!" you said with a big smile, you weren’t pointing a mic at him, you were actually heading back to your car when you bumped into the ferrari driver. he looked surprised to see you, but smiled back. "y/n! i was expecting you during the post-race interviews, where were you?" he asked, he was still wearing his race suit, tied up to his waist which had to be the sexiest sight you’ve ever witnessed. "i was feeling sick so i asked lissie to do them for me. i watched you- i mean, i watched you and max and charles of course!" you added, flustered and suddenly turning bright red. carlos laughed and patted your head which made your heart skip a beat. "haha! don’t worry cariño, i hope you’re feeling better, i need you to be there to interview me when i finally get to be p1." you smiled and nodded. "i promise to be healthy to interview you!" carlos smiled at you before walking to his car, you watched him leave and felt your cheeks getting hot when he turned around to wave at you before hopping in his ferrari.

carlos sainz was successfully playing with your heartstrings.

liked by lissiemackintosh, charlottesiine, carlossainz55 and 345 010 others.

y/n: happiness is a butterfly.

_

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[dykeomania]

PLS write smut for Hazel from bottoms..I need her so bad I fear..maybe like subtop!hazel..is her having a strap too far..I need her..

this is not. a full fledged fic. but this is the first time in a sec that ive let myself be inspired by an ask. this is weirdly switcher and just pure gay-sexier than it is subby!hazel. lmk if you want things to get subbier, bc i can probably do that. but for rn i have.. this image.. and i want you to walk with me on this but also hold my hand because i'm #supershy,

(minors [including 17 year olds 🙏🏽] dni fr, under the cut: not that proofread. strap lol (r!r), foul language, breeding... language... (my bad) (hazel has a strap tho), subtop!hazel except i could've made this shit so much worse so i guess switch!hazel but like, switch!reader, idk everyone's just a whore. there's an "i love you" (or.. multiple, i guess). there's a mirror. there's a vibrator. purely stream of consciousness, i don't even think the position they're fucking in makes physical sense fr. i was bored and i was thinking, so i wrote a lot. this whole thing is not realistic btw. i have very little confidence that hazel's blowing anyone's back out, but. it's my first day out in a min so i'm rusty. all respect to the community. next time when i pull up, i'll offer something a little more tame and saccharine as opposed to [exaggerated p*rnstar moans!!!]. reblogs and whatnot appreciated.)

so, i have this .. picture.

of you putting a bullet vibe in the pocket of hazel's strap before she fucks you from behind for the first time.

she eventually finds the confidence to blow your back out, and tbh, you think it's gonna end with you seeing stars because you can already hear the fucking lottery machines going off in your head. she's fucking you so well, and hazel's problem is that you're letting her know.

at first she thinks she's going crazy. but those fucking mewls into the pillow over how deep she is, how she's making you feel so good, how you've missed her so much, are sending shocks through her clit that the vibe keeps amplifying, everytime her pelvis hits your ass.

if she thrusts hard enough, which god knows she does, it almost makes her buckle over.

you're left clenching the sheets, and gasping against the linen while she fucks you, taking you in a way that's so uncharacteristically perverse that you don't even have the brain capacity to ask yourself why you didn't ask her to take you like this, sooner. her thrusts are quick and shallow, her words breathy and a little sharp. with every jolt of your body forwards as she experimentally blows your back out, it's like you feel yourself becoming more and more removed from this fucking planet. you can't help but cry -- sob, even -- as she makes you into a mess of limbs, leaving you tugging at your tits in one split second, and gripping at the sheets the next.

something happens, though.

where her hips rut into yours in deep, hard thrusts, spaced out by what feels like eternities, you can hear her. she's moaning now, breath quickening and chest rippling everytime her crotch hits yours at a particular angle. she's mewling, and unless you're hallucinating from how fucked up you are, you can hear her --

"fuck... f--uuh--ck, fuck, fuckfuck..."

-- silently beginning to whimper.

the girl goes from bullying your cunt to burying her strap deep enough in it to make the apex of its curve nudge against your g-spot, in a way that leaves your mouth hanging wide open with nothing spilling out of it maybe other than drool, but...

it's the slick warmth of hazel's back pressed nearly flush against yours and the heat of her breath against your shoulder that makes your eyes flutter open, facing your reflection in the floor-length mirror stationed across from hazel's bed.

hazel's in it so deep, you can't even see the strap anymore. and by no exaggeration, it's like an earthquake pulses through her body everytime she nudges her hips into your ass, making your vision blurry. she's rutting into you. greedily grinding her strap into your cunt in the effort of chasing her own high.

it wasn't a secret that hazel was sensitive. more often than not, the poor girl writhed against your mouth whenever she let you put it on her ("let you" is a loose sentence -- she begs for it, sometimes). you don't even know why you're surprised that your girlfriend is getting this close over having a bullet vibe pressed against her clit, hardly protected by fabric. "b--babe--"

what sounds like a plea, amongst the feeling of hazel's thighs trembling against the back of yours, inspires something sinister inside you.

you wind your hips against her, pressing back against the strap and the toy. the sight of your ass rolling against hazel's pelvis, combined with how good it feels is gonna actually, like, make hazel fucking--

"don't cum."

she loses her breath, entirely, and her rhythm, apparently. she slows, as if that was her body's instinct to obey your orders, despite the string of breaths that tumbles out of her mouth. "n-- wha-- fuck, no, nonono--"

you wind your hips deeper into hers, extracting a moan from your own throat -- fuck, maybe your gut, since that's how deep you could feel her. you press your ass into her until you feel the buzz of the vibe against folds, the frequency of it changing and humming as you press it further into her clit. "y--es," you grit. "don't fucking cum yet, hazel."

the dull, rolling vibrations through the fabric of the strap draw hazel's eyes into the back of her head, and then closed. she's grunting now -- or all of the above -- and she tries her best to unchap her lips, fruitlessly dragging over them. the little breaths she takes through them only brings them back to being puffy, pink, and a gateway of noise that gives evidence to struggle.

"gonna let me count you down?" you puff out your sentence in one breath, and hazel can fucking hear the grin in your still-fucked-out tone and it makes her whine louder.

"yeah? gonna fuckin' let me count you down so you can cum in me, haze?"

cum.. in you. three words that you'd never even fucking uttered to her before this, and that she never fucking thought she would ever hear and.. it looks like she can't complain, because her eyes roll into the back of her head and hazel swears that she -- at least, briefly -- meets jesus christ, "oh my god--," hazel slurs, hips rolling impossibly deeper into yours, it's a miracle she hasn't swabbed your cervix yet -- "ohmygod, oh my god--"

"three..."

ohfuck. ohfuck,ohfuck,ohfuck,ohfuck. it's the soft chorus that she whispers to herself as she starts to fuck herself into you, again, opting for thrusts as a means of trying to regain control with no consideration for your demise. the vision of her blurs in the mirror, and you feel your fists grasping at her sheets again.

"fuck--" you croak. "t--two.."

she pulls you further into her, and at this point, hazel's okay with being written off as a lost cause, 'cause fuck, it's not like she has a choice. the strap brief is soaked and it's entirely your fault, and god, she throws her head back. a mess of words, a mess of sensations, hazel just blurts, "oh my g--od--i love you--"

you burst out laughing at the random proclamation, admist everything.

she forces her head down to watch you, jaw hung open. and at this point, she's just speaking. rambling and slurring and gasping, tears-in-eyes-in-awe-and-all, as she watches you throw your ass back against her.

"iloveyou so much, you're so f--ucking hot, whatthefuck?--"

there's something weirdly sweet about it. something that makes your cunt clench around the strap in a way that hollows you out shortly thereafter, and lets hazel hit that fucking spot just right. before you know it, you're wherever hazel is, cunt fully creaming around the silicon.

"i love you--" you dumbly spit out a giggle, a gasp causing a steam of spit to cascade off your bottom lip and onto hazel's navy sheets. "babe," you warn. "ohfuck, ohmyfuckinggod, you're gonna make me cu---"

"fuckingsayone," hazel, unbelievably pleads while she unbelievably spears her strap into your cunt. "oh my fucking god, say one, please, please, pleaseplease--"

she starts begging. unprompted. "it's s-so good, it's so, so good, feels so fucking good, wanna c--um in you--" and she probably repeats it. probably repeats that she wants to cum in you until she's blue in the face and,

"o-one--"

until you let her.

the noise that's ripped from hazel's throat is .. embarrassing. virginal, almost. fully reverberates off the walls, and she trembles. her clit convulses against the vibe, twitching with every short stream of her release and she folds. poor girl was holding your hips for something -- for reassurance, to get a grip, dear life, perhaps? as her hips languidly fuck and press into the surface of your ass., rocking your near limp-frame after you've pretty much creamed all over her strap.

hazel hangs over you for god knows how long, dark hair shaggy and some strands stuck to her forehead in wavy wisps. cheeks flushed, and lower lip bitten to hell. the bullet vibe fucking dies, thank god almighty, because god knows she was not in any shape to reach down and turn it off.

she stays like that for a while, until she you feel her again. this time, only gentler, and much more like herself. soft hands caressing the skin of your back, her breath warm and shaky as she peppers a splay of kisses across your skin.

as you come from the surface of your own high, you feel yourself hum. still full of her, and dizzy with it. despite it, you manage -- slurring, slightly.

"haze?"

there's a hum, somewhere.

"did that really feel that good?"

hazel distantly nods, brown locks brushing against your back.

"uh.." hazel frowns, letting out a weak laugh. "y-yeah, honestly."

the mental note gets filed away somewhere deep in the haze of your brain and you grin, when you press your ass one against her just for shits and giggles and hear her gasp, from the sensitivity of it alone.

"that's my girl."

[sniigura-archive]

imagine that somehow adam runs into judas or lucifer, and since adam is alone standing there (he is waiting for his family) they make fun of adam thinking that his relationship with reader in college didnt work "ha!, that bitch couldnt stand youre lazy ass, i knew it" and before adam could tell them to fuck off, reader appears with all of their 8 kids that go to hug him and judas or lucifer has the most WTF face ever and adam is SOO smirking while pics one of his kids in one arm and holds reader waist with the other. This encounter fills up his ego so much worse

that inspired me to write this. it’s like roughly 5/6 years post college graduation

cw/tw: pregnancy, children

Even though it was close to dinner and bed time for the children, the sun was still mercilessly beating down on Adam. He stood under the shade of a tree, his bag laid by the tree trunk.

The boys were on the playground, while you and Eden were at the restroom right now.

„No way! Adam, is that you?“ A familiar voice called out.

Adam turned around, Judas and Lucifer were really the last people he expected to see. Great.

„ 'Sup?“ He tried to sound as casual as possible.

„Adam, my old friend, what are you up to these days?“ Lucifer asked him, taking a good look at Adam. Since Lucifer and Lilith have been completely cut off, it must be hard for them to keep tap on him.

„Eh, you know. Have been here and there.“ The last thing he wanted was to share any personal details with the demons.

Judas smirked, which was a bad sign, „You here to pick up chicks? Lots of hot single moms around.“

Ah. His wedding ring was getting cleaned right now.

„You speaking from experience?“ Adam asked him back with a raised brow.

„Sure, buddy.“ The way Adam wanted to punch Judas for calling him buddy, „It sucks being single, don’t you agree?“

Why can’t they ask if he’s still banging you like normal people?

„Daddy! Do we really have to go home now?“ The 4 year old, curly headed girl asked him while running up to Adam.

Adam immediately went to bend down, picking up his first born. He gently pushed the hair out of her little face, smiling at her. Her hair was neatly put into french braids.

„Sweetheart, when your Mommy says we have to go home it’s time to go home.“ The girl pouted at Adam’s answer, resting her head against Adam’s shoulder.

She sighed heavily and mumbled out a detached Okay. The way Lucifers and Judas mouths fell open wasn’t missed by Adam.

„The children are too quick for me now. Being outrun by toddlers is really embarrassing.“ Lucifer and Judas whipped their heads back to look at you.

Your sundress hugged every curve perfectly, while your hands rested below your very pregnant belly. You’ve perfected the waddle at this point. Brushing past Judas and Lucifer, you let Adam wrap his arm around you to give your forehead a kiss.

„You remember Lucifer and Judas, right?“ Adam said to you.

You bit your lip at that, stifling your laughter, „How’s it going guys?“

„They’re here to pick up hot single moms.“ Adam told you with laughter.

You sided eyed both of the men, while they fumbled for words.

„It’s not like that!“

„Adam is just messing around…“

The silence was painful. Adam enjoyed it tho. You shifted around on your feet, while Adam went to rub a hand over your stomach.

„…How is the family life treating you both?“ Judas asked, his eyes focused on your stomach.

„It’s good. Nothing is more satisfying.“ Adam told them.

Eden started to squirm around in Adam’s arms.

„Can we gooOooo?“ She whined, rubbing her eyes.

You and Adam nervously exchanged a look. She was close to a tantrum, since it was getting late and she was tired and hungry.

„Boys! Let’s get going!“ Adam called out to the playground.

„There are more…“ Judas mumbled under his breath.

„Lili and I are also trying for a child right now! How long did it take you guys to convince?“ Lucifer tried to keep the chat going. He couldn’t come home without information for his own wife.

„We…never really tried?“ You nervously said.

The twin boys kept digging in the sand, not a care in the world.

„I fucking swear they have selective hearing.“ Adam grumbled out.

Putting your index and thumb together, you placed them under your tongue to let out a loud whistle sound. The boys whipped their heads to you immediately and started running towards you immediately. Even Eden turned around to look at you.

„Good boys! Thank you for listening! It’s time to go home now.“ You ruffled the twins heads.

„Aww. Really?“

„Mama, five more minutes?“

„No. Get going.“ You pushed them towards the way to the car.

The boys immediately started running again, pushing each other while screeching. Eden whined some more, and Adam let her down. She immediately forced her way in between her brothers, easily out running and pushing them.

„Let’s go. I’m pretty sure I have to pee again.“ You groaned, wrapping your arm around Adam’s. Pressing your cheek against Adam’s arm you looked up to him.

„Yeah, we also need to get those little terrorists into bed. It was..Sure fucking something seeing you chumps again.“

And with that you and Adam went after your children.

[sweet-honey-tears]

▪️I am Your Safety▪️

Villain Deku x Quikless!Fem!Reader

OverView: Villain Deku with a quirkless reader who ends up calling on him for help.

Warning: Swearing, kidnapping if you squint

Inspiration: I recommend watching this short! Give them some love! It’s very good.

-🍯

It was a mistake, a rookie, quirkless mistake. One that could leave you dead, hurt, or worse. To leave the safety of your home for a pointless ingredient for dinner, one you could easily go without but stubbornly won't. Ginger root, a simple ingredient for stir fry, had led you here. Barely 5 minutes from your home, yet in a completely new area.

Hidden behind your cozie apparent laid a maze of buildings, dark alleys weaving between their roads. It wasn't the best part of the city. But with what you could afford, it was the best for you and closest to your work. It was lucky you even found housing in the bustling city of Musutafu. Tho, with the constant casualties, maybe not so much. It seemed the city took an odd turn when pro-heroes DynaMight and Deku left hero society. Intern, causing considerable other heroes from their graduating year to also leave. The news turning many of the streets, especially yours, into less-than-stellar areas.

"You shouldn't live there; I could pay for you to be where the stars are." Izuku had told you, his green eyes shining against his dark circle.

"I'll be fine Izuku! Plus, I know you'll be there to protect me!" you had cooed. It was dangerous, both to live in that area but talk to the leader of the 'New Age' with such a teasing tone. Anyone else would be dead, but not you. Izuku signed, placing his hands on your sides and looking down at you. He searched your face, trying to find any possible crack he could talk you into his idea.

You'll be the death of me, doll." he groaned dramacitly. His wild green eyes glanced back down at you. "Just don't leave the house at night, okay, doll? Promise me." "I promise ZooZoo!" you had so gleefully said, finger fixing his red suit tie.

The old conversation rang in your head; that was before you both got into a heated fight. One that caused you to leave the house in despair.

He had called you weak, and a joking argument turned heated quickly. "I'm not helpless, Izuku!" "buy you are!" It'd been a lonely few days at your small apartment. Sitting on the decrepit couch that had begun to seem too big. Maybe it was your depressed stupor that led to this rooky mistake.

"Fuck fuck fuck!" you whispered. What was the point of getting an ingredient for a dish if you'd never get to even make it back home? You had been too stubborn, and it was only dusk at the time. You had time to run down to the store and grab it before it turned dark, you debated. You had managed to grab the ginger, quickly cashing out and beginning your trek to your apartment. “Come on… come on…” you whispered, begging the sun to go slower. "C'mon!" your feet picked up their base.

"Hey, pretty!" a voice called from the ally.

"Crap". Your feet picked up their pace.

"Come on! We just wanna talk." you waited for the sound of Izuku's voice to help you, to tell them you're both busy, and flash his neon eyes, but there was only silence. Right, he was gone.

"Sorry, I need to go. Have someone waiting for me." it was a lie, but a hopeful one. Maybe if they knew you were expected somewhere they leave, you'd have someone looking for you; you weren't worth the trouble. You were wrong.

"Oh, cmon I'm sure they can wait a bit."

Your eyes squeezed shut as you pressed your hand to the brick wall. In your panic, you had lost track of where you were, instead ending up in a place you knew nothing about, in an ally with a dead end. "Fuck fuck FUCK!" you cried, palm slamming on the wall as you slowly slid down. Tears burned your eyes as you sat on the ground, watching the predators creep ever closer to its prey.

The scruffy ally light above you barely made the two men visbale. You watched one's arms turn sharp as skin-colored blades as he inched closed with a sickening grin. The others, you couldn't tell what their quirk was, if they had one at all, but he held a gun tightly. That was deadly enough to a quirkless user civilian like you.

"Now come on pretty, just come with us peacefully, and ya won't get hurt. I'm sure your family will pay to get you back." "and if they don't, well, take great care of you." you had long dropped your canvas bag and, ironically, the ginger root you ventured out for. Yet they hadn't stopped for the bag, and considering neither held it, their intentions had never been to get the bag. Your body shook, and Li quivered, face becoming hot with fear and horror. You watched as they inched to you, your body caving in more. "Izuku…" you whispered as though a small prayer.b "Izuku!"

You screamed, your throat raw from tears and its pitch. The men seemed to pause at your sudden outburst before appearing to become angered at your choice to yell. "Fucking whore- shut it!" "Izuku!" you wailed, body caving as you waited for pain. "IZUKU," you flinched as you heard a loud pop and felt something small shower your body. The dingy ally light shattering as something sharp and quick hit it. Another boom sounded, a shriek leaving your lips at his proximity to your head. Green light slammed into the wall behind you, sending cracks up the foundation. "Doll…" "Zoo-coo" you rasped out. You opened your eyes, staring at the ground below you, watching it light up with the lumination of green flicker lighting. Slowly, your body sat up, your tears blurring the gory sight before you. He stood there, dressed in a suit vest and shoes, green hair not even out of place. He seemed more displeased and worried than angered.

"I-km sorry! You were right!" you shuffled, body caving again as tears raked your body. Fear still gripping every bone. "I should have listened! I'm sorry I left! I'm sorry I yelled!" you cried. The realization of how helpless you were fully settled itself upon you.

"Sh shh, Dolly, it's okay."

His body bent forward as he effortlessly picked you up. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you squished yourself closer. "I've got you." he calmly coded, kicking a limp arm out of his path as he walked you both out of the ally. "You're moving in with me tonight." it was firm, a demand, no room to argue, not that you could or would. Your tearful state leaving you in hiccups. "I need to keep my doll safe, and you're only safe with me."

[imrllytootiredforthis]

for the submissions thing, could u write something w/ needy!gyu who acts like a brat to get ur attention at dinner with u and txt? :) no worries if not!

Behave

pairing: beomgyu x reader

warnings: sub gyu, dom reader, nipple play, begging, slight overstimulation, exhibitionism, oral fixation, think that's it, there may be more tho

word count: 2.6k

a/n: this took so long, bc i am perpetually procrastinating and inspiration hits once in a blue moon so i'm sorry anon but it's here now!

It's been happening all night.

His hand sliding up your thigh, fingers dancing along the waistband of your pants, just enough to make sure you notice. You brush him away every time but he doesn't seem to be getting the hint.

Or, more likely option, he got the hint and decided to actively ignore it and continue on, the little brat.

"So what's been up with you guys lately?"

And all while he keeps trying to rile you up you also have a conversation to juggle.

"Oh nothing really," your words are too composed, too put together for Beomgyu. You're supposed to be struggling, trying to catching your breath as your face goes red-how he looks when you tease him. "The same old. What about you though, how is it trying to control these minx's?"

You gesture to the rest of the boys, taking the opportunity to slap Gyu's hand away, pushing off of you.

"Oh, you know," Soobin says, glancing meaningfully at the boy beside you.

The boy in question takes no notice, instead 'dropping' his fork and a little too happily proclaiming that he needs to pick it up, climbing under the table.

"Brat." you mutter under your breath, feeling his soft hair come into contact with your skin before it's his lips, peppering kisses over your leg, nose nuzzling into your heated flesh.

"I definitely know." You reply, taking a bite of food to cover the groan that almost escapes.

What motivation does he have? What's driving him to do this? All while you're out at dinner with all of the rest of his friends.With his bandmembers.

Desire. Want. Pure horniness that he's been harbouring all day long, imagining sinful things all while you try to hold up a conversation.

He needs you so bad.

Ever since this morning, ever since he watched you slide your rings onto your onto each finger while getting ready for the day.

He felt saliva pool in his mouth as he fixated on your hands, on the metal and pretty jewels that coated them. In the lithe way that your fingers moved.

He'd gave an experimental grind against the bed at the time, holding back a desperate moan.

But you'd heard him. You'd heard him and you'd known, with the way his eyes were fixed intently and what exactly they were on.

You'd known and you'd teased him, played with him like the little toy he is for you, stepping closer and dipping down to wrap your hand around his jaw, pushing it up to force him to look at you.

"Are you needy, Gyu?"

He'd nodded desperately, hips working against the sheets below him in a futile attempt to gain a sensation that would replicate you.

"From my fingers huh? From watching them?"

His eyes had flickered down to your ring-clad hand and he nodded, mouth falling open, drool coating his lips.

He'd wanted them in his mouth so bad. He still wanted them in his mouth for fucks sake but you'd just smirked down at him before leaving a peck on his nose and telling him to be good while you were gone.

Telling him to behave.

This was payback.

For making him horny and needy and desperate.

He ought to be ashamed of his behaviour now as you tug him back up into his seat. His cheeks are flushed pink and drool creeps down from the corner of his mouth which you quickly brush away.

The others continue to talk as if they don't notice anything. As if they aren't vaguely aware of the tension between the two of you. Acting as if it's so thick you could practically cut it with a knife at this point.

His hand slides up your thigh, getting a touch too high, agile fingers sweeping to rub over you. Your teeth sink into your lip.

"Behave." If only you knew the things that one small word does to him, setting something alight inside of him, burning hotter and hotter and hotter.

But he doesn't. He won't. He enjoys this too much to even consider it.

So his quick fingers will continue their exploration as they begin to slip under your shirt, palm flattening against your skin to grab onto your hip.

"You better stop right now if you know what's good for you." The hiss is low and only makes his body hotter.

You should really know this by now.

A small smile curls at his lips and a faux innocent look enters his eye as he hooks the thumb of his free hand towards the bathroom.

You sigh, trying to turn away from him and continue the conversation you had trailed off in.

He doesn't let you though, instead he slots his mouth right beside your ear, warm breath sliding across your neck, "I’m not wearing any underwear." fuck, you can hear the shit-eating grin you're sure is on his face, knowing that he's succeeded in his endeavor to rile you up. "Thought you might like to know."

Your breath comes out sharply and all you can imagine is everything you're not supposed to right now.

Shameless brat.

You should really know this by now.

You have learned. A long, long time ago that he was like this. That Beomgyu is something outside the realm of common decency and wouldn't care if any one of his friends were to catch him in the act right here and right now.

"Hello, are you guys okay?"

You turn to Kai, a blush coating your cheeks.

He's probably the only one who doesn't have some kind of idea of what's going on right now.

The only one that doesn't put the pieces together. Of your red face and Beomgyu's smirk and the fact that he's using his non-dominant hand to clumsily eat because his dominant hand is the one that's on the side that you're on.

The others watch, amused. Yeonjun whispers something to Taehyun and he whispers something back and you're ninety percent sure that they just made a bet on how you're gonna dig the both of you out of this hole this time.

You blank.

Shit.

"Yeah! We are, completely fine Kai. Beomgyu uh, just remembered," a low escapes your throat as his fingers rub against you, up and down and relentless. You cover it with a cough but just barely. "That-that he forgot to turn off the stove, so we have to get going to y'know turn that off, so the entire apartment doesn't burn down."

"O-kay then?"

It's not a very believable lie, not with the way you scramble to grab your things, the others nearly laughing as Taehyun tries to discreetly slide something under the table to Yeonjun.

And definitely not with the way you shove Beomgyu, hissing into his ear, goosebumps rising along his skin. "Don't you dare look back, just keep walking."

"Um, guys! You know the door is that way-"

"We parked out back!" you call back.

You pass the door to behind the restaurant and head straight for the back to the bathroom instead, pushing the door open and leading him inside.

He's whining, nearly dropping to his knees the second the door is shut. You don't let him though, fingers digging into his hair, pulling him up and he hardly minds.

The lock clicks and he whimpers at the sound.

And then your lips are on his.

A downright disgusting mix of spit and teeth and tongue, a sinful mess that makes his head spin, his hands flying to paw at your body, searching for something-anything to hold onto.

It's hungry and it's consuming, moaning and messy, sucking his tongue into your mouth to which he gladly accepts. His body going limp in your hold, leaning against you, into you.

It's almost as if you're trying to devour him alive, taking and taking and taking everything he can give.

Until he feels lightheaded and floaty from lack of oxygen and the weak grip he hold around your bicep goes completely lax. When you're both out of air and your own lungs burn is when you pull away, heaving air in huge gulps as he looks at you with dazed eyes.

He's in shambles and it's one of the hottest things you've ever seen. The attitude he had been harbouring before melts away into something pliable and easy and so cute.

Your fingers brush over his cheekbone and he eyes them. The rings, your rings glimmer in the lighting of the room, calling him in like a crow to a shine.

Your touch is light, almost a brush. Like he's made of glass or porcelain, fragile and dainty, a precious object to be treasured and cared for. Over the slope of his nose right to the and down to his lips, so soft and so gentle it's like you're afraid that you're going to break him.

"You're so pretty Gyu." This kind of gentleness surprises him, but he won't reject it. Not when it's you touching him, making his head feel fuzzy and warm.

But he wants more, needs more. "You can be rough with me. I can take it." The words are drunkenly slurred, intoxicated off of your touch and voice and taste.

Your eyes harden in an instant, as if you were waiting for this. Waiting for the little shit to brat out again.

He's flipped so quickly his head is left reeling, moaning as his body is roughly shoved against the counter.

"You're such a brat." open mouthed kisses trail down his neck, teeth scraping against his skin, leaving marks and claims he'll appreciate later and appreciates now. "A fucking brat, who doesn't know how to fucking behave." His nails claw at your scalp as his head falls back, mouth opening to let out raw hearty moans. "I'm gonna ruin you."

It's a promise. A threat. Everything in between. Everything he loves. Everything he's been longing for.

Hands fumble, rushed and wanting, trying to tug his shirt over his head as quickly as possible, unbuttoning his pants to see that he is, indeed, not wearing any underwear. Not regular boxers or decorative panties he wears to rile you up. Nothing.

And you can almost feel back with the fact that he's had to go all night with his poor dick just rubbing against his jeans but then you remember exactly who's fault that is.

Beomgyu waits. Waits for you to touch it, put it in your mouth, do anything but you don't. And he gets impatient.

His hips roll forward and you roll your eyes. "How about tonight," you leave his pants open and crystalline tears run over his cheeks. "I make you cum with only your nipples, huh?"

It's a rhetorical question. You don't care what his answer will be, you'll do whatever you want anyways. But you do know how much it messes with him to tell him exactly what you'll do to him.

"You have the most beautiful tits, don't you baby?" he pants at the words, at the way your eyes sweep over them obsessively. Only looking, letting the suspense build before even you can't bear it any longer.

"Be good for me." And then you're twisting them and pinching them, cupping his pecs in your hands.

His breath hitches when you lean forward and lick over one of the red hard buds pervertedly, tracing it with your tongue and basking in the way he tastes, in the way he sounds. Pausing to listen to his whiny gasp.

He keens as you wrap your lips around his nipple, giving it a careful suck, swirling your tongue around it. Spit starts to coat his chest, he doesn't care, he just wants more, needs more. "Ple-I-i need, i need."

You give one last lick and look up at him, pupils lust-blown, lips puffy. "Need what Gyu?"

He doesn't know. He can't think, he can't decipher which way is left and which way is right when you do this. He's so sensitive, his nipples are so sensitive. It's one of the things you love so much about him, how something as simple as this could cause such a reaction.

"Ne-" He tries to talk but his tongue only lolls out, trying to keep his eyes focused so he can see straight. "Need," He whimpers and squeezes his eyes shut as tightly as possible.

"Shh, relax, I got you."

He gasps and grabs a handful of your hair as your lips attach to his chest once more. You begin to suck again, this time you carefully let your teeth graze his skin, circling around.

Mindless babbles and incoherent words fall from his lips. His eyes squeezed shut, blocking out the sound of chatter outside and the bathroom counter cutting into his spine. Blocking out the world entirely to focus on you.

You and your mouth, sucking harshly before licking over it softly and switching over to the other in a tortuous pattern.

He pushes your head closer, arching his back, urging without words to be a little more rough with his chest, to stop being so nice.

You growl and it vibrates against him, making his head fall back, debauched cries and porno worthy moans escaping.

"M-more," He gasps, "More!"

It's an obligation, one you could hardly ignore.

And so you bite him-hard and he sobs out, tears dripping down his cheeks.

He's so sensitive, his nipples are so sensitive. It's one of the things you love so much about him, how a simple bite could cause such a reaction.

Because to him it’s ecstasy, all encompassing and overwhelming; it’s pure bliss, a drug pumping straight into his veins like the teeth that dig into his flesh, the blunt nails that sink into his back to keep him in place while he nearly screams, the sound only muffled by his shirt that you quickly press into his mouth.

His teeth dig into the fabric as ropes of cum cover his chest and pants. He doesn't care.

Pleasure and pain, mix together like euphoria stealing the breath from his lungs and making his legs tremble in the best way.

His jeans are probably ruined. He's vaguely aware that he's going to have to leave the restaurant like this. Cum-stained pants and a look on his face that tells that he's been fucked. His shirt drool-soaked and rumpled.

The bite inevitably stops, your head coming up to look at him. He feels so sad. He wants more. He wants everything. You look almost smug at the utter ruination written across him face, the way his eyebrows scrunch together, the way his hips rut forward.

Kisses are placed all over his neck and collarbone, sweet before getting rougher and rougher.

Your lips curl against him and he realizes his mistake.

Made a hundred times worse by the fact that he's been a menace all day long.

"I didn't hear you ask for permission pup."

A squeak escapes Beomgyu as your fingers pinch at his nipples once more. Mean and unrelenting at the oversensitivity they now have.

"Now I'm gonna make everyone out there hear you beg for it."

a/n: enjoy this bc it's the last thing i have queued until i get back, which hopefully won't be that much longer than when this comes out

but besides that, hope you enjoy! it's partly also influenced by this post here and the dialogue prompts!

--

taglist is open here: @hobihearteu, @shincode, @lemonhongjoong, @d7dream, @laylasbunbunny, @maru-matt, @xcookiemonsteer

[sungjinhos]

WESTERN WIND

Vernon is on the verge of freaking out - Vernon is chill, Vernon is calm, but everyone has a limit, and Vernon's limit is when he complains 3 consecutive weeks about his front wing and the engineering team doesn't do a thing about it.

✦ genre: F1 Alternative Universe, almost enemiers to lovers (but really just have a fight in the workplace now we are weird), smut, they do it without protection so - be safe guys love you.

✦ word count: 8.9k+ ✦ title inspired by Carly Rae Jepsen - Western wind

✦ Thea note: okay, this was a challenge!! This was written for a friend who enjoys the f1 world and isn't a carat - but we are working on it. I write for me and I write what i like to read and to me, Vernon screams lazy sex so that's that - that's really nothing more on this subject. reminder 1: i am not an english speaker so i am very sorry about any mistake but you don't need to be a bitch about it. Also, I may try to write every member but gooooood some are harder than others, and vernon was hard for me so i am sorry if the characterization is weird or when you are reading this you think shit this is not Vernon lol I reached a point where i was like yeah i'm giving up.

Vernon has always been obsessed with the idea of flying. 

Not taking an airplane-flying, but actually flying. The closest he got to this was behind a steering wheel. And he got so obsessed with the feeling - first the wind against his face, then the whiplash of going too fast.  He loved it so much that he just made a career out of it. 

And Vernon was good at it, one of the best really, first drive in his new team and all. But it is the seventh grand prix and the car still lacking and there is so much he can do with pure strength and strategy. 

He can't fight aerodynamics. He can't, and to be honest, he shouldn't do what the engineering team was supposed to. But he is one step away from getting out of the car and breaking the damn front wing with his bare hand in the middle of the box. Vernon, a lot of people don't know, but he has this kind of superpower when he gets incredibly mad his face is still calm, and nobody knows he is on the verge of freaking out.

But Vernon just handles the steering wheel to the guy next to the car and jumps off it without making a scene. On a scale of Fernando Alonso to Kimi Raikkonen Vernon leans more to Kimi's side, even though right now he may pull off a Nico Rosberg or psychological warfare like Michael Schumacher against the engineering team, he is not above it today. 

He is no Kimi Raikkone though. Vernon does prefer just being in the car. He enjoys being on the circuit running laps. He is chill with being on the go, traveling around, jumping on airplanes, and Vernon developed a near to perfect packing method - he travels with just a backpack, thanks god. Vernon doesn't love press tours, sometimes they are just insufferable. He doesn't love to have a run down when his week has been shit - trashed car or broken really. But otherwise, Vernon is cool with it, he laughs a little, he goofs with other pilots, he has friends - sometimes he goes out with Lee Chan the Haas pilot. Sometimes he cracks jokes with Mingyu and Wonwoo - the Red Bull duo. So sometimes press is actually fun, and even tho Vernon is an accomplished guy in his field pole and race win on his name he also still has idols on the paddocks because he is against names like Choi Seungcheol and Hong Joshua.

So Vernon enjoys his life really, he isn't one to overthinking about what choosing this type of life made him lose. He gained so much that it would be unfair to do that, to wonder what it could be.

But when Vernon feels like his team is not even hearing his complaint about how the aerodynamics of the car is fucked up Vernon wants to just crash the car and scream in the box. What the fuck? Fix the gooddamn wing for fuck's sake. 

But Vernon doesn't scream in the middle of the box, it wouldn't be good for the press, and Vernon is calm he is chill, but he isn't dumb. He does this when the engineering team, himself, and Choi Minho, his team principal, are in a more private area.

"What the hell? I've been complaining about the front wing since the Australia GP."

"We have been working on the wing." The engineering girl slash prodigy answers.

"And why the fuck is not working properly? This car will fly out of the track if a single drop of rain falls." Vernon continues because he is the one putting his life on the line really. Why no one is giving a fuck about what he has been saying.

"We are trying, you know about regulations we cant-" You try to say as if everybody doesn't remember that FIA is actually the worst ever and it is your job to care about regulations too.

"Oh my fucking God. I gonna crash this car in the first fucking lap I am not even kidding." Vernon says pacing around the table, he hates the whole can't do won't do FIA-related frustration. 

"Ok, Vernon you know we can't really do anything about it right now," Minho says arms crossed. "So stop bitching about it, and no you will not crash my car in the first lap you are not stupid." And now Vernon knows he can't really crash his car but he feels the urge to do it nonetheless, Minho can scrap his bank account he doesn't care, he can go fucking penny less but he will have his front wing fixed up.

 "You," Minho says pointing at you and you are actually relieved, you can take the screams of the team principal - even tho Minho is not near screaming, but taking shit from the pilot? Not gonna happen "For fuck sake take his complaint and actually do something about it for the next GP, you have like 5 people that could have been working for NASA in the team if he complains again about this mothefucker wing again I gonna have a stroke," he says leaving the room.

"Why do you guys only act when I bring Choi Minho to the room?" Vernon asks feeling dumb and to be honest disrespected. He knows he is young, he knows he is new, but he was brought to the team for a reason.

"Not that it matters," You say already picking the things around the table, probably from a previous meeting. "But he is my boss, not you Vernon."

"I am the one inside the car," Vernon says trying to attain some kind of respect or authority.

"Ok, that's not relevant to me whatsoever. I work designing a car that if we put a dog behind the wheel is gonna be fast so-" You say because you are tired this front wing nightmare has been going on for more than the australia grand prix actually, it's always the same problem, again and again, your team fixes it but it always comes back to life like a zombie or something.

"Did you just say that I am not relevant? Are you kidding me?" Vernon actually scoffs because of course he knew when he arrived in Mercedes that the team is bigger than him, he knew what all the critics said, but being treated that poorly by a co-worker? Fucked up man.

"That's not what I meant-"

"Yeah yeah yeah like Im just a dumb kid on the wheel, that's what you meant. I really thought we could build a nice relationship and all-" Vernon cuts you already opening up his overall because it is hot as fuck, like one step away from dying hot. "I guess the civil war thing going on wasn't in my plans but if you guys on the engineering want that I have no problem whatsoever in being a fucking dick."

Vernon says almost dashing to his trailer, fucking stupid overalls dangling around his waist because if one of the journalists asks him something about his wing or his time or how Kim Mingyu got the pole, Choi Minho is not the only one who will have a stroke. Health care plans and his life insurance will skyrocket.

After Vernon takes a shower, he realizes how dumb and idiotic he is. This happens a lot. Vernon doesn't really know how to deal with his rage, so when the anger dissipates, he just ends up regretting everything. 

Regretting is not even close to the proper word. When Vernon analyzes the chances of him fucking up his entire year because you simply do not rage war on your engineering team - that was like a rule, not a rule scratch that, it was a dogma. A rule you can break, if you try that shit on a dogma, you will root in hell. The hell being Vernon's worst nightmare - having the team ask him to pull aside to the other driver because he can't keep up, the reason? His shitty ass front wing.

But when the actual race comes and Vernon starts the race in third and finishes up in 5th place, he doesn't know who will drop dead first, him or Choi Minho. 

"Do we need a meeting between grand prix to fix this hellhole you guys have been calling a car?" His boss asks and Vernon can see you just rolling your eyes. Dude, that's crazy. Did you just roll your eyes to Choi Minho? That was insane. 

And Vernon coped the only way he knew - developing a wealth obsession fueled by hatred, all because you didn't give him his wing and a roll of your eyes at Choi Minho.

Before that, Vernon really didn't have a problem with you. Since he moved to Mercedes everything was great! Great team! New and more powerful car! Great teammate - Lee Jihoon, who actually took Vernon under his wing. The pre-season was great, and he didn't have problems with you whenever you two had to talk about the development stage of the car. 

Actually, Vernon finds you interesting really, that's not a lot of women in F1, and the majority of the women actually deal with public relations or team management like Kwon Boa. He always saw you around, really, always in jeans, tennis, and a Mercedes shirt. Sometimes with glasses, sometimes with a cap on. Always chatting with someone, sometimes writing things down on a notebook, sometimes explaining something. 

He didn't actually have any problems with you. He didn't have a reason, but now? Now Vernon can't really back off, can he? God, he was not a fighter and neither a hater, but he wasn't a coward either. 

So when his one-week break is cut short and people send him to Northamptonshire Vernon is angry because really: 1st he could use a few days off, 2nd between the Emilia-Romagna and the Monaco GP he had booked a crazy Airbnb in Cannes.

Now he was stuck in this hell hole of a place, in a way too cold meeting room, with like the whole engineering team and his boss. Not ideal. So Vernon's mind just wonders really, he thinks about how he needs to catch up on his favorite TV show, maybe he can check on his family later, or call his friend Boo Seungkwan - maybe he would call Seungkwan to Monaco is bouge enough for Seungkwan.

“And that's why we try to fix the front wing, but it seems like the aerodynamic problem is always back. Lee Seokmin actually did design another front wing at the start of the pre-season but you guys said that this one had a better grip” You finish the whole ppt-presentation, sometimes you hated your job so much, and by sometimes you meant the whole ppt presentation of a problem that we can`t actually fix because of regulations and because you guys main driver didn't do proper feedback in the first place. And now you have a problem in your hands, that to begin with, it wasn't even yours. 

“So the best thing we can do is?” Choi Minho asks and you laugh because right now you are not the one treating Vernon like a damn child on the wheel, it is Choi Minho, but Vernon is too engrossed in his own mind to notice or he feigns ignorance because it is Choi Minho who is talking, not you the mere translator girl for the engineering team. 

“We can try always the wet tire even if it's just light, and we can always use the soft tire at the beginning of the race it is the less durable but if he is in a good position to start with we can always call him back-”

“So, we did this three-hour meeting” Vernon actually checked his watch. It was a tree hour meeting for god`s sake. “for the resolution being soft tire and pray for a good pit stop? Are we crazy?”

“If you heard about FIA rules we cannot-” You try to speak but really, you don't even know why you start when you know you gonna be ignored by the man in the room and it’s F1 there is always a man in the room, always.

“Ok ok,” Vernon interrupts. “Just so you know that’s crazy, everything about this wing situation is crazy, we are just handling the championship, we are not even close to being - I don't know? 5th fucking place.” 

“We need to make the legal team re-analyze the rules,” Minho says contemplative and not really angry, and to be honest you wouldn't be either because it is true, but Vernon could be less bitch about it because it is not your fault either

“Just that? Ok,” Vernon says and he gets up because when Minho talks about the legal team it`s gonna take 4 to 6 days to actually find a loophole in the damn manual, but hey ok, it's fine, Vernon it’s chill, but not chill enough because the next moment his mouth is moving. “Maybe you could ask for the engineering team to work on that too I don't know just a thought” 

And you laugh, loud and clear. And Vernon is truly spooked. What the heck? Are you going crazy? Has the excruciating work and the insane hours with the weekly jetlag made you crazy? 

“Yeah Minho,” you say, picking up the papers. Why do you always pick up? Are they top-secret papers? Vernon never thought about corporate espionage, but it may be a thing. “Maybe you can ask your drivers for proper feedback when I ask them about grip and wings and start making them say whole sentences, not it's bad and a sad emoji. If we did send a form about this shit we wouldn't have this problem,” You actually leave them room, but Minho and Vernon continue listening to your voice down the hall. “Oh Vernon, how it’s going with the car. Make them say 4 whole sentences and not it's chill. Maybe that would help” and then you scream. “Just a thought."

“I mean” Choi Minho starts getting up too. “Nothing against a rivalry in the workplace, dang in my times, it was worse. But if I get an actual complaint - Humans Resources or Legal Team involved - I am so firing both of you, and I am not even caring about labor law or whatever.” 

And Vernon thinks it's weird how he was the first one to get up and the last one out of the meeting room.

So when Vernon actually arrives in Monaco - Boo Seungkwan, his best friend since birth, on his side, the civil war in his team is still going on at full speed. The tire strategy is still in place. Choi Minho still looks at him every five minutes like a babysitter. You still give a side eye every time you both share a room, Vernon is even more aware that you roll your eyes at everyone. Are you just discontent with everything?

But he doesn't think so when he sees you and Jeonghan, the team strategy, and Jun, one of the mechanics, laughing while eating lunch. Vernon is puzzled really why the fuck is he, Choi Minho, and the whole team getting side eyes and Jeonghan and Jun receiving beautiful smiles and even laughs? That's weird, more than weird, that's unfair really.

"What's going on in your head?" Boo Seungkwan asks, actually stealing a bite of Vernon chicken's breast. 

"Just, you know the whole war in the team. That's the girl that is actually making my life hell." Vernon says voice low like he is telling Seungkwan a secret, trying to be discreet. 

"That one?" Seungkwan asks loud and not caring about the top secret war going on, apparently. "Oh, Vernon, she is pretty."

"And?" Vernon thinks puzzled because really he never stopped to think about it. "Ok, ok, stop looking," Vernon says when he sees Jeonghan looking back at his table, grabbing Seungkwan and almost getting up and turning Seungkwan`s head himself. God.

"You didn't tell me she was pretty." Seungkwan acts like it was the most important thing ever. Missing the point, really, because the most important thing ever in this whole ordeal was Vernon's career and the probability of it ending abruptly. 

"Yeah, because it is not important, I mean…" Vernon trails off because again, he never stopped really, but thinking about you are pretty. Or at least not recently. Vernon thinks back when you two met in the pre-season and he may have blushed once or twice talking to you in the first days, but he wouldn't call it a crush.

"Hey Vernon," Jeonghan says, stopping at his side. "We will go over the strategy at 3 pm for the first free practice, so if you need anything, just give us a heads up before."

"Oh, sure man, actually I was thinking about the ty-" Vernon starts.

"Bye guys, if I hear one more driver talking about how they don’t want to start with a soft tire today, I'm gonna jump the nearest cliff." You say, lacing arms with Jun and just dragging him.

"Oh, she is feisty today," Jeonghan laughs. "Okay, anyway, you can bring everything to the team, right? I need to actually get some information with her so-" 

"Sure, sure man, no big." 

“Yeah," Boo Seungkwan just laughs, and laughs, he actually almost falls backward type of laughing “When was the last time you got laid?"

"Hm?" Out of nowhere? What the heck was going on in his friend’s mind? But Vernon actually needs time to think about it, fuck, when was the last time? Vernon didn’t even remember with whom. "I don't know a few weeks?"

"Months right?" Seungkwan answered in a heartbeat, chewing on a long French fries.

"Maybe dude, you know it is hard when I am always on the go." And it was hard, Vernon wasn’t lying. He didn’t enjoy the whole no-string attached really, and after he got a little famous - in a very niche type of famous he knew that, he was no rockstar type of guy, but still, he enjoyed it even less.

"Yeah didn't peg you for doing in the workplace kind of guy, always talking about how it is precious and nothing can disturb the paddock’s energy,” Seungkwan says making Vernon almost choke on his food.

“First, that is the rule that applies when you want to bring your boyfriend Kwon Soonyoung because last time he almost broke my trophy,” Vernon can actually feel the chill going through his body just remembering the scene that his traumatized brain conjures up, it was his first grand prix win and Seungkwan boyfriend almost knocked it down. “second we are not doing anything. We are actually enemies” 

“Oh,” Seungkwan stops, truly stops, dropping his fork and knife, and he stares at Vernon, but Vernon knows it is not a stare, Seungkwan is analyzing Vernon like he always did. “Well, that's even worse, because when it happens - see not if, I said when it's going to be a nuclear bomb, thanks good I am not going to Spain with you and me and my lovely boyfriend will be having a few days off in Monaco so…” 

The problem was that Seungkwan was always annoyingly right. Seungkwan was right when he said Vernon's last relationship wouldn't last more than 3 months. Seungkwan was also right about Vernon's first love and second. Seungkwan had this superpower really, Seungkwan was always there to see the picture better before Vernon did.

But Vernon always just shrugged and went to his next task, now free practice. And Vernon did slightly better than he thought - 4th place. So he wasn't actually totally dejected after the press asked him about the probability of rain. Everything was fine until Vernon saw the little orange cat hiding in the corner of the Mercedes trailer.

Vernon squatted and tried to call the little kitten really, it was tiny and made Vernon's heart break a little because when the cat was approaching him Vernon saw how he was limping, front paw looking hurt. Also, the little dude looked muddy. He may hate Vernon for it, but he needed a good wash.

"Hey," You say looking at Vernon who just started stroking the orange cat fur. "I was just-" You point at the water container.

"Ah yeah," Vernon says, giving you a nod. "I was thinking of finding something so this little guy can eat but-"

"We don't know anything around, same." You say squatting on Vernon's side and putting the container on the ground, little dude giving you both a meow.

"Could we-" Vernon starts but you just cut him.

"Make a trainee do the hard work? Make them go to the nearest supermarket, " you say, laughing a little, like you laugh with others. And Vernon thinks that maybe your brain is too fast, two-step forwards already, ahead of everyone, always.

"Yeah, I was thinking about asking someone or even the Grand Prix organizers to even get a vet around. I think something is wrong with his paw." Vernon points at the cat, and he stops for a minute thinking about how he is so used to being in the paddock but not really knowing his way around it. He strokes the cat again, almost feeling the urge to pick him up and go around asking if anyone knows a vet.

"You shouldn't be touching him." You say and Vernon feels a little offended. Did you enjoy telling him what to do? Vernon could take it, he didn't like it, but when it was about the race he could take it, but about a cat? Really? "Like, for health reasons." 

"Yeah, I was thinking about taking him to the trailer, but if he has fleas, that would be a nightmare," Vernon says hand still scratching the little cat like the rebel he was. 

"Can you-" You trail off, looking around, and Vernon can almost see your brain working inside your skull.

"What?"

"Look, we have like two options.” You say getting up and fixing your pants. And Vernon thinks that Seungkwan was actually right shit, you are actually and objectively pretty. “You can be an asshole and make someone do the job just because you are throwing a i am a star fit"

"Or?"

"You could totally do your I am a heartthrob bit on the communication team newbie, she kinda has a crush on you, so she would totally find Seb a vet place. Just don't let Minghao know.” Vernon just feels like a lot of what you just said goes over his head because it really doesn’t make sense to him, Heartthrob what? Crush who? Seb? 

"Are we calling him Seb?"

"I mean he just gives me Sebastian Vettel energy all around you know, he is kind of shy and orange," you say trying not to sound dumb, feeling a little anxious - because Vernon always made you feel this way, an uneasy feeling paired with his low voice.

"Yeah, I can see that” and Vernon smiles, dude the cat really looks like Sebastian. God - in that exact moment Vernon knows that his life is fucked up, he is picking a stray cat when the next 3 weeks he will be jumping from airplane to airplane. But look at him, Vernon can't leave Seb in a freaking paddock, in the end of the week everything will be gone.

"So? Which one? I'm pretty sure we can try just telling Minho you went rogue as the third option but…"

"The heartthrob one just-" Vernon can feel his forehead itch and the beginning of a headache. He can't do a heartthrob bit. What is he talking about? "Just show me the way."

"I need your keys," you say to Vernon, hand open in his direction "First we need a box and a towel. We can't let little Seb on the loose."

"He is a little difficult, though. Pretty sure he won't stay in the box," Vernon tells you already giving you his key.

"I think I can steal a few eggs for him on the way. If they are boiled, it won't be a problem. He seems hungry enough."

And Vernon actually plays with Seb until you arrive, a box filled with Vernon's towel - probably the one he used this morning, and a plastic plate full of eggs. And then you are already dragging Vernon around to the second task - the heartthrob bit. And Vernon thinks about how quick on your feet you are - figuratively, and literally, you walk really fast. Later, you tell him that is a job thing, not a you thing. Apparently to be an F1 engineer you need to think fast, walk quickly, and solve everyone's problems.

Vernon did the heartthrob bit - it actually ended up with the newbie taking Seb to the vet, you gave her a to-do list (1 - check his paw, 2 - check for fleas, 3 - don't forget the shots!!!) and Vernon's credit card. But Vernon still with a weird taste in his mouth. How did you know the newbie had a crush on him? That's totally weird.

But hey the trainee actually found a vet, and she brings Seb back with shots and a bath. And now Vernon is staring at his cat, thinking about how if he needs to call the hotel to check about the animal policy, maybe he could do the heartthrob bit to the hotel manager. Or he could leave Seb unattended, he could eat something, chew his race boot, or - then Vernon hears a knock, which is weird of course because Vernon doesn't actually receive visits in the motor home, people know that Vernon is sensitive about that - no fans, no press, no knocking when he is in the motorhome.

"Hi," you say as soon as Vernon opens his door, "just came to see the little guy."

"Oh, yeah sure," of course it was you, the only person who doesn't actually care about Vernon’s word and maybe well-being, but Vernon kind of understands, Seb is cute, "he looks tired tho."

"It's okay, I just came to give him some love." You say one digit going between Seb’s ear, squatting on the floor, letting Seb chill in his place, "Are you going to the hotel?" 

"I don't know,” Vernon scratches his kneck because it is true, he doesn’t actually have any idea what he is about to do, maybe he can take his race boots and everything essential so Seb doesn't chew on it, "I need to go but I can’t leave him alone but also I can’t sleep on the couch, it will fuck up my neck and also can’t just not sleep."

"You can go, I can sleep here on the bed, not a problem." You say sitting on the floor, Seb little groggy but wake, you pick him up and put him on your lap, and he just purr. What the hell? His cat is purring? For another person? What?

"I can’t let you do that,” he can’t because his cat is already in love and because he also knows that his motorhome bed is just uncomfortable. 

"Don’t worry, we are just-" you say finally looking at Vernon’s eyes, "co-parenting" You say and Vernon feels like a bomb just dropped, and the whole humanity just vanished, he can hear a pin drop.

"Co-pareting? A cat?" Vernon says like his brain is not really functioning.

"Yeah Vernon,” You start, and Vernon can see a small smile across your face, “people have different family arrangements. You, me, and Seb, divorced people with a kid, it's okay." 

"Divorced?" Vernon actually lets out a laugh, a scoff really. Why are you trying to mess with him ? This is not even close to normal.

"Yeah we are not on great terms but we sacrifice for him."

Vernon leaves - not because you said he could, not because you found a solution, but because it was the right thing to do for his performance really. Vernon leaves because his neck is a prized possession, and because he needs to sleep , he needs his best reaction time. And Vernon is an athlete. People may say that driving a car is not a sport, but people don’t know how much the g-force makes his neck almost break. But when Vernon lays in bed with his special pillow, Vernon can’t actually sleep. His mind goes back to his motorhome, to his just-for-stretching bed, and never actually sleeps. His mind, Vernon finds out, is going back to you sleeping in that awful bad, to the way you treat the little cat like it can break, and the way that every time your hand goes against the cat's fur Venon can actually feel the love.

Vernon is so fucked.

He starts to think that Seungkwan is actually right.

And Vernon can't actually sleep because you are tormenting his mind and Seungkwan's voice telling him 'I told you so' echoes in his mind.

Even tho not getting the eight-hour sleep Vernon gets what his system needs to be quick on his reactions -  Wonwoo and Seungcheol actually crash in front of him, debris over his head and Vernon has control enough to just not crash in the crash in the narrows streets of Monaco. Nightmare, really. Vernon finishes in third because of it, and even tho he is in the podium, he can't actually feel happy about it.

Maybe that's really why Vernon can't have his car with a fucked up wing because it can mean life and death. Later that day he makes sure to go check with both drivers - halo is ugly as fuck but saves lives.

Vernon is thankful that he doesn't have time to actually think about life and death because you are shoving him into a funny bag and telling him to put Seb inside and telling him that you actually are about to sit next to him. So Vernon ends up with a cat bag on his lap, Seb strangely chills about everything, your hand going inside the bag just to stroke his fur.

He ends up sleeping the flight, which is only about 1h40 minutes, but Vernon feels like he needed that nap.

The perception of time in the world of F1 is really truly bizarre. Vernon is always running, always thinking about how he can go faster, even when he is doing the press talk. Minghao walks faster, and explains everything for Vernon in 3 sentences, if it is a sponsor or if it is a journalist, if he needs to actually talk about the car, or if it is a 'content' bit. 

But when Vernon is going around the paddock and see you leaning against Jeonghan smile bright and full Vernon actually stops on his track, it is late, and everything is figured out in the paddock why the hell are you and Jeonghan laughing about?

"Come on, Vern," Minghao calls him, making his neck turn. "Come on, we have three more, and if I don't arrive in time for my dinner with Mika, she is going to kill me."

So Vernon lets Minghao drag him across the paddock. But his mind is still on the scene, you leaning and smiling against Jeonghan, and Vernon doesn't want to, but he feels jealous. He wants to be Jeonghan so fucking bad.

Vernon really doesn't have much time to think about it, he needs to sleep, watch his water intake, and think about his neck - his neck is his most important body part as a f1 driver, and he did think his neck was feeling a little funny. But every time Vernon sits and has time to himself, his brain conjures the image of you and Jeonghan in his eyelid.

Vernon doesn't think it was because of his neck or because his sleep was extremely shitty but the next day, his car crashes against a brick wall. Not great. Not ideal. Not fun either. So Vernon does what he needs to do. Even if he feels fine and got out of the car on his own, he needs his trip to the hospital. Turns out a few hours later, the medical team is sure that Vernon is not dying, but he may have a concussion.

When Vernon is back in his motor home to pick Seb back to the hotel (this time he actually made sure it was okay with the hotel's policy) he founds you lying on his useless motor home bed.

"Hey," you say getting up the bed "are you okay?"

"Yeah yeah," Vernon drops his bag on the floor and sits down by your side. "Just a concussion."

"Okay," you say, looking at Vernon, like actually looking at him searching for something. "I was scared it wasn't a pretty scene, Vernon."

"I know, but I'm okay," but Vernon is so so tired, he is okay and he feels okay but he feels the urge to just lie in this horrible bed and just stay in it, he doesn’t even care about his neck really - he can call for physiotherapy or something. 

"Still, the whole team was worried, you don’t need to act like it wasn’t scary,” you say and Vernon just feels so heavy, like his whole body is made of bricks, even tho he is ok with it, he is used to it really, but the crash still takes a tool on his body "and you should have gone directly to the hotel"

"I was just picking Seb up," Vernon just lies on that horrible bed and it doesn’t really seem that bad, or he is just so tired that even lying on the floor seems like a good option now. His mind is tired too - Vernon can’t even think.

"You didn't need to do that. You could've ringed me up, you know, co-parenting,” you say, voice small, and Vernon's hazed mind almost doesn’t catch it.

"Yeah," Vernon scoffs. Really, he didn’t even think about texting you,  "I don't think I have your number"

"Oh shit," You say picking up Vernon's phone and putting it in front of his face to unlock his phone, "ok gonna save my number you need to send me Seb pics I don't think you should bring him up, we have a week off you are probably going back to England right? You should hire someone to go see him daily or-" 

Vernon just feels the urge to actually kiss you. You are just there, cat on your lap, thinking about how Vernon shouldn't bring Seb around anymore, you are so so worried about his health and if he is getting stressed, and you go on about how Vernon just needs to let him rest in his place in England even tho it would be super hard for you because you are getting used to distress, every work day you pop up in Vernon motor home to say hi to the cat - and to Vernon, it all feels like a freaking lullaby, he actually nestles himself in the bed, searching for the better position to just sleeps. 

"See," you say to Vernon when you see how dozed off he is "you never pay attention." 

"I am paying attention," Vernon answers, eyes still shut but not actually sleeping. 

"You are not. You are zoomed out," You say, lying on his side, legs dangling out of the bed.  "What were you thinking?"

"Nothing really," Vernon says because he is not really thinking about anything concrete really, his brain is all over the place.

"Vern," you actually whine, "I thought we were becoming friends parenting the same kid"

"We are becoming friends" Vernon laughs because that is weird right? “I have your phone now we are definitely friends”

"See? So tell me, what's on your mind lately?" You try again, but Vernon just hums."You seem actually stressed lately. Is Minho bothering you? I  know the results are not great, but i promise we are trying" 

"I know, I know, don't worry about that." And Vernon feels actually bad because it is the first time he can feel that you are a little guilty, no scratch that, tired? Vernon can’t really catch the feeling, but he knows that you care. 

“I am not worried about that, I care about the results but you crashed today, the med team said you may have a concussion, and I don’t know if you are just zooming out in an ok way or zooming out in a concussion-induced way.” 

“It’s not the concussion the hospital let me go, it is just, I’m just tired” Vernon feels your hand on his hair, petting him, almost like you do with Seb, and Vernon just let himself sleep feeling the affection in the way your fingers travel in his skull. 

The thing is, even when Vernon is in his house in England he doesn't really feel at home, because it is a company provided apartment, and to be fair Vernon didn't put a lot of effort in it. So in his week off Vernon tries to focus on his physical training, on his neck, on his diet, on sleeping, but every time his phone vibrates Vernon just feels giddy and excited because 80% of the time it is just you reacting to Seb's pics Vernon sent.

Vernon tries not to think about how fast you answer his messages or how sometimes you send audio snips, and Vernon doesn't feel angry - he always hated audio message god. Vernon also hated calls but one night he actually video calls you and you are already in bed but you said you wanted to say goodnight to Seb but you and Vernon spends more than an hour chatting about nothing and everything. 

When the time comes, Vernon ponders; leaving Seb behind or actually flying with the cat. So he just calls Boo Seungkwan to babysit Sebastian - the hours of flight and the jetlag would just make him stressed, even tho Vernon thinks he is the worst person ever adopting a cat to just let him stay in an empty apartment even tho Seungkwan will make sure he is eating, and Vernon actually begged 3 times to Seungkwan check Seb's litter box.

To everyone's surprise, Vernon actually gets a pole position. To be honest, even to Vernon and his team it was a surprise, too. But it was a good one. You congratulated him, and that night, you and Vernon called Seungkwan and spent like 45 minutes talking to a cat and cooing together - like parents on a holiday.

Vernon thinks it's kinda weird really - how you two fell into this dynamic of sharing a pet, and in a way, you two turned into friends too. So when Vernon is ready to get out to his car you are the last one to greet him, and Vernon is not really superstitious but he thinks he will make sure that this turns into a new team ritual.

When Vernon crosses the finish line, he feels it - the feeling that Vernon always chased in a way. When he hears the screams and laughs on his radio, he feels he can actually let go and just enjoy. He did. He won a grand prix again.

And when Vernon is showered with champagne, hears his national anthem, and jumps to the crowd he thinks about you. He tries to find you really but Minghao just directs him to the press area.

“Hey,” you say, popping your head in the door crack after knocking on his door. “Heard you were looking for me.”

“Yeah yeah.” And Vernon feels sticky. His whole body is covered in champagne. He is looking like a mess, but god, he is so so happy. “Didn’t see you in the celebration.” 

“I was around. Saw everything, don't worry" You move and close the door acting like you guys didn't accomplish the best thing in the whole world because that's how Vernon feels like he is on top of the world. 

“No no-” Vernon's smile is so big, and he touches your arms, and he actually stops, and he looks at you. “We did! We actually did it!” 

“You did it" you say almost shoving him, but Vernon's hands don't leave your arms - hot and sticky against your skin, "don't need to be humble it was a great race on your side-”

“No no no listen, we both did it. We did it together. We are sharing this," Vernon says - smile still big across his face, he is so sweaty why do you think that seeing Vernon happy is the best thing ever? “Come on, say it”

“We did it” You say smiling, not even because you are happy with his win - you are, you are happy for the team, and you are happy for Vernon, but Vernon is so happy and in a way is so infectious you just can not smile like him.

“We sure did,” and Vernon hugs you, head dropping on your shoulder, “god-”

“What?"

“You smell nice," Vernon says voice muffled.

“Thank you, you smell like really nice champagne," you say with a laugh, god Vernon is so happy, and there is only one thing that would make him happier -

"And-” He tries to master his courage to say, “and I wish I could kiss you.”

When Vernon kisses you, he almost feels the breeze, almost feeling the physical sensations that involve flying, because, in his head, he is already 10 thousand feet high. He feels so out of it that Vernon just let you take what you want for him. God, you want so much. 

Vernon can feel it. He feels in the way your fingers hold his jaw. He feels in the way your mouth goes together, like two pieces made to fit each other. He feels in the way that you react when his hands hold your hips so tightly, whimpering in his mouth.

Vernon is not one to complain about speed, but when his whole world is spinning and everything is going so fucking fast he wishes he could stop the time, make it go backward, make it go slower. 

His whole life, he fought against the clock. If he was two seconds faster if he didn't waste milliseconds in the second curve. Vernon was always running, but now, fuck Vernon wishes he could go slow.

So Vernon chooses to take his time, not hurry. He kisses you slowly. The way that he trails his lips against your jaw is slow, and the way that his hands travel to your ribcage is slow.

"Vernon," you try to call his attention, to make him hurry, to make him speed up, but the only thing that Vernon gives you is a non-committal noise.

And Vernon thinks you are in a fucking trailer, with a not-great bed, and he has one better - bigger and with his trusted neck pillow but everything just shatters when someone knocks on his door.

And when Vernon opens the door and sees Minghao he thinks two things: Minghao is his worst enemy really, Minghao must hate him. The second one? Vernon asks himself how many wins he needs in his career to do a contract clause saying he is never doing press again, if someone asks him to do an interview or youtube content he is allowed to change teams before the end of his contract.

Vernon goes back to everything needs to move fast behavior. You two jump on a plane, and again, Vernon has his week off - while you need to go to Austria to check everything related to the engineering team. So when Vernon arrives and Seb purrs against his leg, he films it and sends it to you. When Vernon is chilling on his bed and Seb acts like Vernon's body is his personal pillow, he films it and sends it to you. When you say you are crying because you miss the cat, Vernon calls you and says you can knock on his door anytime. 

When Vernon arrives in the paddock the first thing he does is ask Jun where you were - meeting room, you had a meeting with Jeonghan and Minho, but when Vernon knocks on the door you are alone.

"You really did it." It's the first thing you say to Vernon.

"Yeah" He shrugs. "it was a promise."

"It looks good on you," you say, sitting in front of him at the table, hand touching Vernon’s hair, feeling the urge to ruffle it. 

"So, like, my last meal was airplane food, so I was thinking about taking you to dinner," Vernon says, and you just think how it is unfair that even tho he is not conscious of it, he is doing the heartthrob thing, the lazy eyes, the small smile, the unkept hair - now blonde.

"Hm-" you try your best to not just throw your papers and forget you have an actual job just because Vernon smiled at you, "I don't know if I am free, actually Minho was talking about going over the strategy with you so-"

"Yeah? Ok, I can call him and say the airplane gave me a headache so," Vernon picks his phone up and starts typing something, "I don't know Austrian food that well but we can always go to an Italian."

"Italian, I prefer Italian," you say, chin resting on your hand and just admiring Vernon. You are pretty sure if you were a cartoon, they would draw you with heart eyes.

"Nice."

You let Vernon wine and dine you. The restaurant was nice, and it was even nicer that you and Vernon sat side by side in low light, and you can just rest your head on his shoulder because you were truly tired and because every time you did that you could actually sniff Vernon a bit, and he smells so so good. 

You guys just chat about everything, and at some point, Vernon actually unlocks his phone and just lets you browse his gallery (90% of it is Seb's pics or videos, and the other 10% were the pics you sent him about your day - a coffee, a building, anything silly that made you smile), and looking at it made your heart melt.

In a silent agreement, you just hop in Vernon's Uber and end up on his hotel bed, with Vernon on top of you. 

Vernon kisses you slowly like he has all the time in the world - and you are weak enough for him, so you don't complain, you don't hurry him. To be honest you don't want him to hurry either, you are enjoying the way Vernon is nested between your legs, the way you can feel his weight on your body, and the way that his hands feel against your neck.

The way Vernon touches you makes you feel treasured, makes your heart full, and makes you want to make him feel the same way, and you try your best.

You try when your hands travel to his biceps, squeezing it the way his hands tighten against your hips. You try when your hand goes through his hair when he kisses your neck. You try when Vernon's hands travel under your shirt and you kiss his cheeks because it's the only place you reach.

Vernon doesn't think, and he doesn't try. He just does, and he accepts what you give him.

When Vernon outright grinds on you and you whimper, Vernon accepts it. When your hands claw at his shirt, he accepts, and when he gets off, you take his shirt off and see you doing the same. Vernon thinks that maybe you gonna give him more than he can take.

You don't rush him, you let Vernon watch you, but you feel rushed, so you get up as well, mouth. chasing Vernon's while you take off your bra. 

The way Vernon holds you makes your mind spin. The way his firm body feels against yours, and how his hands feel against your back. And even though you try, Vernon still kisses you slowly.

Vernon holds you when he makes you lie on the bed, "baby lemme just-" he says, giving your hips a small kiss, and opening the button of your pants, when he takes your pants off you can feel his digits traveling against your leg and you are sure he can feel the goosebumps on your skin.

Vernon's fingers close against your ankle, and Vernon brings it against his mouth, "Vern " you try to call him, and you feel dumb enough that you just beg. And Vernon kisses you again, one hand on your chest and the other grabbing your hips.

And you think you can take slow when Vernon is on top of you, legs tangled, his lips now on your neck. Every time your hips move together Vernon hums against your skin and you wish he was naked already. But when Vernon's lips find your chest you can't really complain because you feel so lost, he takes one of your nipples in your mouth, and he gives attention to the other one too, taking your nipple between two fingers and toying with it

When Vernon releases your breast with a pop you remember to call him, "Vern please"

"What?" He says hands toying with your panty line, digits hot against your hips.

"Your pants," you say, feeling your mouth dry, body buzzing.

"Oh right," Vernon says and you already feel remorseful when Vernon detaches his body from yours. 

You try to reach Vernon with your hands, palms against his skin, on his chest, on his abs, on his thighs. Everywhere - trying to placate the lack of the feeling of his body against yours. 

When Vernon finishes getting his pants off he holds your head, hand against your nape and jaw and he kisses you, and you feel a little better thinking he suffered like you did in those milliseconds that your bodies have been apart from each other.

And Vernon did, and when he stops to look at you, to really look, tracing his thumb against your mouth and you open just enough for your tongue to lap at his digit Vernon thinks he is going crazy. 

God, you are just so pretty on his bed, hair messy, trails of his kiss against your skin. Vernon knows he is so fucking lucky, and if he could he would stop the time, he would treasure every second - he would go so fucking slow he would make the clock go backward. You, however, don't really care, you just touch Vernon, hand under his underwear giving his dick a few pumps while Vernon's hands leave an imprint on your ribcages.

Vernon helps you a little, one hand on your hips and another one lowering his underwear, his dick finally free. When Vernon looks down, he can see how red his skin is - a blush coloring his chest, he can also see how your thumb just goes smoothly against his cockhead and Vernon thinks he might go insane.

"Do you need to-" Vernon asks while trying to return the feeling, hand going to your clothed pussy, pressing against it and making you whimper.

"No, no, I am ok," You say, almost in a way to make Vernon hurry up, "You can just fuck me."

"Yeah yeah ok," Vernon says, and you can feel the way his dicks enters you while Vernon's tongue lick his lips.

Vernon fucks you slowly, body pressed against yours, one of his hands holding your head - almost pressing you against his, his lips never leaving your cheek. And it is almost excruciating - the way Vernon fucks you, so slowly and yet so fucking good.

You try to tell him in the way your hands hold his neck, the way you feel his shoulder blades under your hands, the way you want to touch the expanses of his back. 

It's good, and you could live like that - in Vernon's warm embrace. But you are feeling desperate enough so you just beg, "Vern, faster", and not a second late Vernon is fucking you harder. He picks himself up, knees on the bed, holding your legs on the side of his waist. And god he hits you so deep, you just need a little more.

"Fuck you are so hot," Vernon says almost there when he sees your hand toying with your clit.

"I am so close," You say to him and you can feel how his hands tighten against your thighs, how he picks up his pace, how he fucks you harder.

And then it washes over you, and it hits Vernon - because of the way he continues to fuck you after it, but then you can feel his body against yours, his mouth chasing yours, and you just laugh between kisses because yeah, Vernon is a lazy kisser, that just how he is, but goddamn you love it.

In that weekend Vernon makes a ritual of kissing you, he kisses you every time he can really, but he makes a point of stealing a kiss before the free practice - in his motorhome. He does it again before the race, he ends up in second place. He kisses you again when you jump at him saying that he is the best - and he wants to argue because he just ended in second place, but it's you so he just takes it.

When Vernon is showered, clean, and not sticky from champagne he sees you sleeping in his horrible motorhome bed, and he just can't let you - you guys have a flight to catch.

"Hey, come on let's go home, Seb is missing you," Vernon says trying to wake you up.

[dwindlinghaze]

a flight to paris

(remus lupin x reader)

summary: you and remus have been in an established relationship for years but one day you received an unexpected break up call from him.

contents: she/her pronouns, modern!au, angst (?), break up, inspired by a barbie movie, my horrible english, i wrote this out of boredom, oh and this is a multipart :)

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

on most days you enjoy your summer holiday. you have a part time job in which you worked for a magazine, having your own personal workspace in the office headquarters and all.

your days are mostly surrounded by the latest style, magazine covers, hollywood gossip, and beautiful photoshoots of women. it was fun, really. that is if mr. wellins wasn't your boss.

he's a walking patriarchal figure. hate is not enough to describe your feelings towards that man.

"i don't think that's a good idea to put in there," you spoke during one of the meetings.

"what do you mean? it's a good one, everybody will be intrigued!" he scoffed.

you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, glancing at the others but they just gave you a warning look. no one dared to go against mr. wellins. "it just doesn't feel right y'know- to put that in there considering it's just an allegation and not confirmed?"

"but we focus on marketing here! who will pay your wage if it weren't for these nosy people who read and buy our magazines? we have to find a way to get our sales higher!" he said sternly, glaring at you with cold eyes.

"look here, if you put that article, surely our reputation will be stained. you don't want that to happen do you? we just need to find something else- something more positive and harmless but still eye catching. like the new box office movie that everyone has been talking about lately. it doesn't harm anyone, in fact it's supporting them. what do you think?"

every one of your co-workers nodded in agreement, waiting for the boss to reply.

he looked bored. "you know that flapping thing you just did with your mouth?"

"you mean- expressing my opinion on what's better for the sake of your company?"

"yeah that," he rolled his eyes. "stop doing that."

"i think y/n's right, makes me wish she were the boss," one of your co-workers mumbled under her breath.

he looked sharply at the girl, "i can easily fire you."

"oh no no, i feel like we just- need to discuss about this more you know?" you defended.

"oh get off this place. end of discussion!"

"we can talk like in the coffee shop, or the commissary-"

"not me getting off, you getting off. get out you're fired!" he slammed his fist.

"wha- what? fired?" you said breathlessly, eyes widen in shock.

you got to your car, speeding to get home and just curl up in the arms of your boyfriend- remus lupin. you needed him. his constant whispering of sweet nothings, his warm embrace, his smile that can rip away all negativity.

just like magic, your phone started ringing with remus in the other line. screen lighting up, his pretty face on the screen. you smiled, so big and decided to stop at one of the parking lots nearby.

"hello?" you heard the sweet voice of remus lupin.

"oh rem! i'm so glad you called!" you exclaimed, heart warming at his comforting voice.

"things aren't right with us and you know it. they haven't been for a while," he said. his ever-lovely voice that makes you feel safe was nowhere to be heard. your heart dropped, chest hurting all of a sudden.

"what?" you choked on the verge of sobbing. "remus come on."

"i'm breaking up with you... right now." he said it like you don't matter to him at all. you clenched your phone, eyes already hurting from the incoming tears.

"you're not... are you serious? what are you saying?" you thought your day couldn't get worse, but the universe said otherwise.

"it's over. and if you're smart, you'll forget i exist."

and just like that, the line disconnected. you couldn't stop the tears from falling out of your eyes. not only have you lost your job, you also have lost your remus.

you never thought he would ever break up with you. especially since you both were in a strong relationship of four years. no matter what problems appeared on the surface, they always got resolved.

wiping your tears away, you tried to drive safely to lily's house. your best friend. you needed someone to talk to. someone to pour your heart out.

"i lost my job and he broke up with me," you said in shame when she opened the door to see you with red rimmed eyes.

"he broke up with you because you lost your job?" lily gasped.

"no... separately," you sobbed. then you told her the whole story of how you've had lost your job and how he broke up with you on the phone in your car just then.

"what kind of guy does that!" lily said in disbelief. it's so not remus to break up with you like that. knowing how much he loves you since forever ago. you two are perfect for each other. nothing could ever compare to the bond you both had.

"i guess a guy with no real emotions," you huffed, reaching for lily's tissue.

lily suggested for you to call remus again, 'cause no way is someone like him said something like that to you. there was no response though, he's not answering.

"maybe you misunderstood. what did he actually say?" lily asked once more.

"he said that it was over, and if i were smart i'd forget he ever existed," his words ringing in your ears.

"does he speak another language where it means 'i love you'," lily tried, you shook your head.

"that's it," she picked up your phone. "i'm blocking him from your cell, e-mail, everything! you do not break up with anyone like that! when i'm done, we're gonna go somewhere that you love. a place where you feel happy and good about yourself."

"i wanna go far away," you mumbled.

"that's right, you should go far away and clear your head! forget about them. men are getting harder to like these days," lily agreed, snapping her fingers.

"i'll go far away... like aunt milicent's!" you said.

"aunt millicents?" lily asked.

"yeah she's a designer in paris. has a fashion house and everything. i always loved being there. tons of people, energy, fabrics, and dresses... and my aunt in the middle of it all! oh how i want to be like her when i grow up. that's it i'm going there!"

"super fun!" lily exclaimed, truly happy for you. "when are you going?"

"right now! i can spend the last weeks of summer vacation with her," you managed to crack a smile, "i don't need remus. what i need is to book a flight to paris."

"remmy, you can't help me with our summer project if you're on the phone all the time," jessica said, snatching remus' phone out of his hand.

"i just don't get it, i can't get through y/n at all!" remus said in exasperation, brows furrowing in confusion and worry clouding up his head.

"i'm sure she's fine," jessica said, fluttering her lashes.

remus was unconvinced, he couldn't focus the whole time. "it has been since yesterday."

"y/n is a busy person. she'll call when she gets the chance... in the meantime...," she jerked her head towards the script.

"do we have to tape that again... i'm not an actor, i probably sounded stupid," remus scoffed.

"you sounded beautiful," she said, smiling flirtatiously at him.

remus was too fogged up on the thought of you to notice her behaviour. you never ignore him like this. no matter how busy your lives were, you two always made time for each other.

"lils look!" marlene gasped, pointing at remus and jessica sitting together on the table across the room.

"oh no. don't tell me that boy dumped y/n for jessica," lily said in annoyance and disbelief.

the two of them walked over, crossing their arms. "are you kidding?" lily said coldly, shooting daggers at remus.

"lily, marlene! where's y/n?" remus asked, sitting up from his chair. he didn't know why they looked upset.

"why do you want to know?" marlene questioned.

"i can't reach her! i've called, i've texted, i've emailed. nothing worked. is she okay?" remus said desperately.

"y/n's fine. she wants nothing to do with the twat who dumped her over the phone!" lily scolded.

"wha- huh- dumped her?" remus asked in shock. he would never dump you. you're everything to him. "i would never do that, c'mon you guys know how much she means to me!"

"you know what uhh i actually need to run, see you," jessica said, slipping away from the table. nobody paid attention to her though.

"don't play dumb! she told us what you said 'it's over and if you're smart you'll forget i exist'."

"wait what?" remus exclaimed, eyes travelling towards jessica who was chuckling guiltily. "that line... a part of the script i read yesterday. don't say you recorded it and play it back to y/n," he said, eyes closing painfully.

"i'd be happy to tell you that," jessica said, batting her lashes. oh what a nerve. "it was a joke. i never thought she'd actually believed it. she must have serious doubts about the relationship."

remus ignored her, turning towards lily and marlene. "where's y/n? i need to see her now," he said, heart racing at the thought of you.

"uh- she's kind of..." lily slowly replied, eyeing marlene, urging her to finish the sentence.

"in paris."

"paris? paris, france? since when was she going to paris?" remus was panicking. he knew he messed up and he's willing to make it right again.

"uh a long story..."

"what should i do? i need to talk to her as soon as possible," he scrunched his hair, brows knitting.

"y/n went through a lot yesterday... you know what you can do to make her feel better? a grand romantic gesture! don't just call her. go book yourself a flight to paris, show up to her aunt milicent's doorstep, and prove how much you love her!" lily said.

"she'll love it!" marlene agreed.

"i'm on it," he opened his phone to search for a plane ticket. "i'll book the next flight out of london."

[unapologetic-and-aesthetic]

A crule dream

Ace x gn!reader

Series: Telling them they are pretty

Description: You and Ace have been close friends, sharing companionship on the Moby-Dick for a long time now. As Ace seemingly finds himself in a dream of you, his bottled up feelings for you bubble to the surface, he has nothing to lose in a dream after all.

Header: by me ✨

Themes: Friends to Lovers, kinda; Idiots to Lovers, kinda; first Kiss; Angst with open ending; but its hinted at to be a happy ending; drunken kissing; mentions of alcohol and drunkenness; Ace is alive and well, what is this Marineford you are talking about.

Note: This has been sitting on my iPad since Febuary?! What is time even?! Its been a while since i posted a fanfiction of mine on the World Wide Webz, so i am a bit nervous about this. Also my first time writing gn!reader, so i‘m still getting used to it. This was supposed to be a little drabble but it kinda went of the rails :‘), this poor sad-boy needs a hug so badly.

It will be the first entry in a series about telling One Piece characters they are pretty. I am no native englisch speaker so please be kind in the comments. I appreciate every bit of feedback from you! Enjoy! ✨

And thank you to @fanaticsnail for being an inspiration to me for the past month or so, you are amazing!

-

The atmosphere on the Moby-Dick almost felt like a dream, it was all so effortlessly light-hearted today. The soft pinks and blues of the sunset faded perfectly into the dark night sky on the horizon, already dotted with softly shining stars.

You sat in the crow's nest together with Ace and enjoyed some quietness away from the lively party that was unfolding on deck down below. The crow's nest has always been your spot together.

Ace had one too many already, he read about Luffy in the newspaper today. It got him sentimental again, you knew it all too well. His laughter was always a little too loud after that. You wouldn‘t press him to talk about it, instead trying to comfort him with your company. You two were friends, close friends, you had each other's backs in any situation, even tho he was your commander. He never let you think for a moment this hierarchy was standing between you two. He valued your input and asked for your opinion on things frequently.

You and Ace stared off at the horizon in comfortable silence, sitting shoulder to shoulder, knee to knee, leaning against the mast. He could feel his thoughts drifting away, eyes wandering from star to star, the laughter of the crew down below fading into the background. There was only your warmth beside him now.

„Hey Ace, you are pretty! But you know that, right?!“, that snapped him out of his trance. He slowly turned his head towards you as you grinned up to him cheekily.

„Like how?“ his face turned into a confident grin as well. He was sure you were just joking around. The next thing you‘d say would be something along the lines of „pretty dumb“ or „in pretty deep shit“, and you both would laugh.

But instead of quipping a joke, you were quiet for a moment, studying his face intently. Why were your eyes suddenly so serious? He blinked, feeling your eyes on himself so intently made him a little nervous all of a sudden.

„Well… I like your freckles and your sharp nose… I think that's pretty.“ you said, taking a sip from your bottle. „Oh, and your hair!“ you reached up to touch the tip of a black hairstrand, that was closest to you. A small giggle escaped your lips at his dumbfounded expression.

He was quiet for a moment, his dark eyes looking into yours, seemingly searching for something. This must be one of his dreams, he must have dosed off again.

Sometimes when that happened, his dreams would be so realistic and sometimes so cruel. Like this one. He would dream of Sabo, Luffy and himself reunited and having a drink together, or seeing Yamato again or… well… for you to finally reciprocate his feelings. When he would wake up, he would remember most of it, which left him with a somber feeling for a few hours or even days.

Despite his tender feelings for you, he would never make a move, his position as devision-commander made it difficult, not to mention your close friendship. You were too important for him to ruin it all just like that.

This must be a dream then. Everything felt so light and soft right now.. and you would never say these things to him in reality. Pinpointing his insecurities as something you felt were beautiful? That would be too good to be true. He didn't deserve this to happen to him, he thought at that moment. He studied your face, taking in all the little details he had put to memory so many times before. The soft light of the sunset making your features soft, almost dream-like.

It was a dream, he was sure of it! So why not indulge?! Nothing had consequences right now, it was a dream after all. And he felt so lonely lately, the longing he felt for you has been eating him up inside.

You blinked at him, your face slowly becoming warmer with any moment he stared so intensely at you. You opened your mouth to say something, but he beat you to it.

„I see…“ his low voice was merely a whisper as he leaned in and gently took your face into his hands. His heart skipped a beat at your surprised expression. And was that a blush around your nose? So cute, he thought. The rough skin of his thumb caressed softly over your cheeks.

Your name fell from his lips, quietly, longingly, as if he could scare you away if it was any louder. He leaned in further, his nose brushing against yours.

„I want to kiss you for so long now…“ he all but whispered before pressing his lips to yours. It was a bit rough, but he wanted to pour every ounce of longing into this kiss he had harboured for the past year. Ace wanted to relieve his lonely heart of some pain. You froze up for a second, taken aback by the sudden feeling of his lips against yours, but you quickly found yourself enjoying it.

Your hands wandered behind his neck, as he moved his soft lips against yours. He wanted to know how you taste like and what beautiful noises could fall from your lips. You where gently holding him close, searching for something to hold onto while he pressed you closer to his chest and deepend the kiss.

A sigh fell between the two of you as he coxed your head to the side gently. You completely gave in to his kiss as his tonge brushed yours, letting him dominate your mouth. A million butterflies erupted in his stomach, a tingle went up his spine as you two moved in sync. He softly explored your mouth with his tounghe, brushing with yours in the procces as you did the same, which made him gasp into your mouth.

Yes, he thought, this feels right, kissing you felt so natural to him. Your body fit so well in his strong arms. He gently bit your lower lip as he slowly left your lips, both of you gasping for air, still close to one another.

His heart was banging against his ribcage, an intense blush spread across his face. Oh, he never wanted to let you go. His thumb gently brushed over your lower lip, red and swollen from the kiss you‘ve shared. You where at a loss for words, looking up to him throuhg your eyelashes bashfuly.

„Gods, I want to do this with you all the time, not only in my dreams.“ his gaze held an intense longing as he watched the soft light dance around your features “You are so beautiful right now…“ he whispered to you. „No. You are beautiful all the time,“ he corrected himself.

You gasped at his words. Shocked by his sudden outburst of passion and by yourself, indulging in a drunken kiss with your best friend. The kiss has left you lightheaded and it took you a moment to gather your thoughts to respond. He looked so dreamy right now, and so happy, you haven‘t seen him like that in a while. It made your heart soar.

„Ace, what…?“ you wanted answers, what dream was he talking about. Where was this coming from? But you were incapable of forming a straight sentence right now.

Suddenly, his eyes fell shut and his head lulled forward onto your shoulder, still holding you in his arms. „Ace?!“ you looked down to him, his head almosed nuzzled into the crook of your neck peacefully.

That bumbass dared to fall asleep right now?! After what just happened?!

Your head became clearer as you lingered in this position with him. As you began to think, your chest tightened, what was that all about?! And for how long would he sleep now? From experience you knew, that was unpredictable.

But you have an important mission tomorrow morning! You couldn't wait until he woke up and talk this out with him right now. It was already very late for you and you didn‘t wanna mess up tomorrow.

And would talking even be feasable? He might not even remember any of this. Maybe you could go back to your friendship as it was before then!

Thought after thought crashed down on you. And the worst one was: Would he regret kissing you, his close friend, if he remembered? Now…that would break your heart.

The waves didn‘t stop crashing, taking you with them into a spiral. What would your Crewmembers think?! What would Marco think!? Or your captain if he ever found out?!

Your breath got quicker and the fuzzy feeling in your chest quickly made way for a tight knot, making it more difficult to breathe.

„I am so sorry Ace“ you whispered to him as you gently leaned his sleeping body against the mast. The waves of emotions took you with them, you had no chance. The coil in your chest was unbearable now, you felt like crying. After one last tearful look at his peaceful sleeping face, you stood up and ran to your quarters, hoping no one saw you leaving the crows nest.

-

As the questions and thoughts flooded in, you barely took in your surroundings. The mission was so unimportant to you right now. Absentmindedly, you trotted after your team members, just going through the motions. It was a simple scouting mission anyway.

You tried to stop the thoughts and the guilt that where flooding you, but it was no use. Your head wandered to Ace and the kiss time and time again. You could still feel his lips on yours, his soft voice saying these sweet things to you and is warm embrace holding you so gently. What would happen now after this? You clutched your cest to stop your heart from beating so fast, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment.

"Hey, did you hear!? Ace made out with a crewmember yesterday!“ your head snapped up at your teammembers comment. How did they know already?!

Another one laughed “There is always a rumour about him and some crewmember making out at a party. You shouldn't believe everything you hear!“ the elder one gave the newbie a pat on the back.

This fired up the storm of anxiety inside you. So it was just a little makeout for him then!? No… you knew it was more. It meant more to you, at least. And you wanted to believe it was more for him as well. You knew about his little flings here and there.

What if he was just in the mood, and you where the next available option? You frowned at that nasty thought about you friend. Ace was better then his. But what would the crew think about you when they figured it out? What would they think about Ace?!

- Ace had slept until midday, waking up in the crow‘s nest, still in the position you left him in the previous night. He felt disoriented and had a terrible headache from the booze he had the evening before.

And something else felt wrong, it felt like he had had a dream inside a dream, that had never happened before. Ace scratched his head, tilting it to the side wondering. One of the dreams was about Luffy and a giant snake. They fought it together and then ate it. The other one was about you… and you two had kissed. That one he liked the most out of the two.

He sat up and stretched his arms and upper back, looking around for you in the process. But you weren't there with him in the crow‘s nest, unlike in his dream. As he looked around taking in his surroundings, and it slowly dawned on him. The exact place he was in right now seemed so familliar.

Oh no.

He jumped up with a scream of horror. That with you was no dream at all! He kissed you and said all these things for real. And he didn't even ask for your consent before kissing you! His breath got quicker as he tried to remember what exactly had happened yesterday.

Ace really kissed you… he grabbed you by the face even to hold you in place. And you looked surprised at that. Or was it shock on your face?!

He grunted, a feeling of dread creeping into his stomach. His memory was failing him, everything was so blurry.

Did you kiss him back? Or did you say anything at all? That's where it was all blurry for him. He remembered how good it felt to him. But what did you say to him? What did you do? He also remembered you tensed up when he smashed his lips to yours. That wasn‘t a good sign. The dread crawled up his spine lowly.

„Fuck… no,“ he took his hat that was laying on the ground where he slept and raged a hand through his hair before putting it on, just to shove it deep into his eyes.

“No, no, no!“ he wispered to himself under is breath, frozen for a moment and unsure what to do now. Go look for you and talk to you? And then what!? Admit his feelings and possibly destroy your friendship?!

He didn't deserve someone like you at all. You were way too good for him. So brave, and kind. You gave out your love so freely, without fear. Unlike him. You would never accept the feelings of a downer such as him.

Maybe he could backpaddle and say he was just very drunk? That might save your friendship. But he still kinda forced himself onto you. So the friendship was likely unrepairable already.

And it was all his fault. If someone would have rammed a knive into his chest right now, it would likely have hurt less.

Ace felt sick to his stomach, horrifyed as he imagined how you might be feeling right now. His mind filled in all the gaps his memory left open with crule things. Pictures of you trying to push against his chest to get him away from you, but he was too strong and helt you in his firm grasp. Tears in your eyes as he paused his advances on you for a moment. You running to the sleepingquarters, scared and probably disappointed in him, crying.

And you might not tell anyone about it. Ace was your superior and a well-respected member of the crew. He knew you didn't want to destroy his reputation, you would honour your friendship even after this. So you would stay silent with no one to turn to. And then you would leave the Moby-Dick!

Ace grabbed the mast with one hand, knuckles white, his body shaking. He wanted to throw up, wanted someone to punch him in the face. That was what he deserved.

„Oi! I‘ve been looking for you everywhere,“ it was Marco, coming in to the crow‘s nest behind him. Ace was just standing there, unable to move.

„Are y-,“ Marco stopped talking as he saw Aces trembling back. „Oi, what's wrong!?“ he asked, bridging the gap between them with two long steps. When his comrade didn't respond, Marco grabbed him gently by the shoulder to make Ace face him. His brows furrowed at the horrified expression on the other man's face.

„Ace?! What happened?“ Marco shook his shoulders in an attempt to bring him back to reality. This can‘t be good. „What happened last night!?“

At the question, the black-haired man snapped out of it. Did Marco know something about the incident? Did it already make its rounds? No, that couldn't be! He felt like someone was choking him.

He wispered your name „I kissed them….Marco," Ace confessed "I don't remember everything,“ his voice was shaking. Saying it out loud made the stone in his stomach heavier. „I am a superior….and I forced them to kiss me“ he looked to the ground with empty eyes, flinching as he saw Marcos's face scrunch up out of the corners of his eyes.

Marco was at a loss for words. He was rooting for you two to finally stop being dense and confess your obvious feelings to each other. But this was not what he had in mind. He saw you ran to the bunck with a sorrowful expression last night. With that last puzzle piece, it all made sense to him.

The older man gently pressed his fingertips into Ace's shoulders, trying to ground him. That poor boy was still trembling. He tried to find the words to break the news to him, but Ace was quicker with his question as his head snapped up „Where are they? Did you see them today already?“ he asked with a sense of urgency. „I- I need to apologize!“

„Well… you have some more time to think about what you want to say“ It hurt Marco to see Ace like this, and what he was about to say would hurt him even more. „They have been injured on the mission today and collapsed when they came back – from exaustion and bloodloss."

"What?", the other man's voice sounded dead. This can't be happening. Ace felt like his body was floating.

"It will be okay! It wasn‘t fatal, Ace. I already took care of it all" Marco added quickly, shaking him again as he noticed Ace empty gaze drift off. "Stay with me! I'm here with you. You're not alone." Ace, staring into space while Marco talked to him, bareley registering what he said "Talk to them when they wake up, i‘m sure its going to be fine." Marcos voice sounded far away.

Nothing is going to be okay. Ace had just lost a very important person to him, due to being a drunken mess. He must try everything to do damage controll as soon as he came down from the crows nest.

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

No Pain, No Gain | Part 4, Final | PersonalTrainer!Aemond x fem!reader

A:N: Thank you all soooo much for joining me on this one, it was a blast to write. This chapter kinda made me feral writing it ngl. Cheers to my hype mama @ewanmitchellcrumbs <3 And I know I mentioned it in the first part but really it’s Ange as well as @valeskafics​ @oneeyedvisenya​ and @sapphire-writes​ that inspired me to write this from their AMAZING modern fics, so please give them all the love as well.

Series Masterlist | Warnings under the cut!

warnings: SMUT, 18+, MINORS DNI, pussy slapping, p in v sex, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, Aemond being mean during sex lowkey love it tho

Lucky for you, the flight wasn’t too long.

 Even though you had Baela on your shoulder snoozing, nothing could tear your mind off the sheer idiocy of the previous week.

 You’d fucking kissed him.

Or he’d kissed you? At this point the whole memory was foggy.

 All you know is that you were mere seconds away from tearing his fucking clothes off in his home gym and letting him have you on any flat surface there was.

 You thought how wrong it was. You were paying this guy!

 And yet there was a lingering feeling in the back of your mind, a heat clawing its way up your neck, like a constant ache almost at the thought of what would have happened if you hadn’t bolted. The endless possibilities were…vividly playing on your brain the entire plane journey.

 ‘Fucking perfect’

 Even his voice had made a permanent home in your mind, his hot breath against your ear as he pinned you against the wall, allowing you to feel just how turned on he had been.

 You obeyed Baela’s wishes and only told Maris about the kiss.

 It turned out that Baela’s Dad, Daemon, had really gone all out for this retreat. In a place called Lys (which you’d scarcely heard of) on the other side of the island from where the airport was, it was quiet, with only the odd resident along the streets, but for the most part it was completely remote. You’d have to thank him for the personal taxi later.

 Baela had slept through the plane journey entirely so now she just looked out the windows tiredly.

 “Is your Dad and Rhaenyra already there?” you ask, seemingly breaking her from a tired trance.

 She stretches, “Yeah they’ve been here ages already, the rest of the fam are here as well, we’re the last”

 “Why’s that?” you ask.

 Baela smirks mischievously, “There’s some tension at the moment, flights were staggered for the sake of people’s sanity”

 “Oh right”

 You can still hear his voice, the breathy tone he’d used.

 ‘Fuck…’

 Bad girl. Stop it.

 At least it’d be nice to have the better part of a week abroad, miles and miles away from the man in question who was making every thought sinful. You could finally relax.

 “Is it a big resort?” you asked.

 “Oh it’s not one big place, we’ve all got separate little villas. You and I are with Rhaena and her boyfriend, Cregan. Alicent and her fam are in the one next to us. Dad’s done us the courtesy of being the furthest away so we can’t hear him and Rhaenyra going at it”

 “Ew Baela” you scrunch your nose, “Is Alicent nice?”

 “Nice enough to us. Look out for Aegon though”

 “The manwhore one, right. The one we ran into?”

 “Yeah, I didn’t tell him you were coming for a reason. The slut will be all over you”

 “Yeah no thanks, I might get syphilis” you joke, smoothing your hands over your legs.

 You’d changed on the plane to a pair of black shorts and a tank top, and it was a good job you did. It was hot in Lys. Bloody roasting. And if that wasn’t bad enough. It was humid as well, which meant the forgoing of a bra. But c'est la vie, you supposed, you were on holiday, you looked great, felt great and couldn’t wait to get in the sun and just soak it all up.

 You and Baela spent the last 30 minutes of the journey installing Tinder on your phone to check out the selection of men (and women, just out of curiosity) in Lys. But being a small island, you were picking up on people who lived hours away, in places you’ve never heard of either. 

To your dismay, not many people on Tinder in Lys, shockingly. So you stuffed your phone away as you pulled up to the resort. The resort, or at least the one which you’d share with Rhaena and Cregan, was a single floored villa with what you assumed was two bedrooms on each side. It was nice and quaint.

 “Cute” you comment.

Next to that little villa was another bigger one, two floors, slightly more bedrooms you’d wager. That must be where Alicent would be staying.

“She still came even though Viserys died?” you ask Baela, but she only raises her eyebrows.

 “It’s not like they were in love”

 Fair.

 Between the two villas there was a large shared pool that was separated into two sections and a tiny kiosk in the corner where a bartender was packing away stock. Rounding the taxi, you pull your luggage out with a huff.

 “Bartender is not too shabby” Baela wiggles her eyebrows and you shove her playfully.

 She’s right. He ain’t bad looking at all. Suitably tanned, perhaps even a native to the island, his white shirt only serves to emphasise the way his arms are so toned. It’s a nice distraction for sure, even if nothing ends up happening.

 It’s still early afternoon so plenty of time to get dressed and soak up the sun. But as you’re pulling your suitcase out of the taxi, you’re ogling the bartender so hard that it falls out the boot of the car.

 “Christ” you whisper.

 A woman from the bigger villa rounds the corner with long, curled auburn hair. You assume she must be Alicent, but she looks far too young to have four kids all grown up. She gives Baela a polite wave and turns, “Boys, help them with their bags, would you?”

 “Oh no, we’re fine!” you say back, giving her a wave and kneeling to the floor to pick up all your bags.

 “Thanks Aeg” Baela says as her bag is plucked from her grasp easily. You pull one bag over your shoulder and attempt to pull your suitcase to its side.

 “Struggling?”

 You froze.

 Oh fuck.

 You knew that voice. But you dare not look up.

 You stand with your hand on the handle of your suitable, eyes fixed solely on anywhere but where you know he is stood, smirking.

 An involuntary breath manages to escape when his large hand, the one you remembered pressing against your waist last time, brushed against yours to wrap around the handle of the suitcase. He takes it effortlessly, making you finally look up at him.

 He makes no secret of eyeing every bit of you, savouring the parts he’s never seen before, like the expanse of your legs, having previously always been covered by gym leggings. Smooth and leading to the spot where his eye pauses for a moment. To the tops of your thighs sneaking out of your shorts, he eyes them as well with a dark, determined look. The corner of his lip curled up somewhat once he saw the tank top and your lack of anything underneath.

 He looks disgustingly good, at least since the last time you saw him. Hair once again, in that slutty fucking bun.

 He’s only wearing shorts, perhaps he’d been sunbathing as well, but clearly not had much of a tan yet. His chest, which you’d never seen bare before, was glistening under the sun, toned and well defined with lines running all over. You caught yourself from looking at the dip of his hips, at the lines leading down to where you knew you wouldn’t be able to not look if you did. So you painfully refrained and looked back into his mismatched eyes, at the glowing pride sitting there at your obvious ogling of his form.

 He chuckles quietly and takes your suitcase to take into your room, as if he just needed an excuse to see the inside of it. You stood stock still in your position, watching the muscles of his back move as he walks, as if he just knows you’re watching him.

 Which of course, you are.

 You bite the inside of your cheek, both ragingly horny and annoyed at the same time.

 And when you look over at Baela, she bites her lip, mouthing I didn’t know.

 “I’m gonna fucking kill you” you whispered and she laughed nervously, as if really believing you’d do it.

Once the two Targaryen brothers had evacuated your rooms, you pushed Baela inside your shared room and slammed the door.

“Woah woah chill, what’s the big deal?” she asked, searching your eyes.

“Baela, why the fuck is he here?” you whisper, clearly stressed.

 “The fuck is up with you?”

 “Fuck’s sake, Baela, we kissed!”

She’s quiet for a moment and you expect her to freak out, but she just raises an eyebrow, “Is that it?”

 “Baela!”

 “You didn’t bang?”

 “Fuck’s sake, no! I mean… we might have if I hadn’t run off…but it felt too weird-I was paying him-”

 “You ran off?” Baela snorts.

 “Shut the fuck up”

 “What are you afraid of dick now?”

“Baela, I just-I couldn’t, it felt too weird-it’s not like I didn’t want to but-fuck”

 Baela puts her arms on your shoulders, “Babe, calm down. Listen, he's not your personal trainer anymore, mm’kay? He’s just ‘creepy Aemond’, now get your ass in that bikini so we can see the fruits of your labours alright? Get in that fucking sun”

 “He’s not creepy, Bae” you reply, exasperated by the situation you’ve been put in.

 “Regardless, get out there. Show him what he’s missing” Baela winks, zipping open her bag to get her swimming stuff, “You’re hot, y/n. Show him”

 With an annoyed sigh, you shed your clothes, not caring about whether you’re naked in front of Baela or not. A few years in a house-share with her meant you’d walked in on each other nude more than once.

 “Well?” she grins, you look over, bottom half of the black bikini now on, and your jaw drops.

 “Oh my god” you say, looking over at her. She has a bikini of her own, pale blue in colour and one that compliments her skin tone well. Hers has ties that she’s double knotted, “You look fit”

 “Thank you” she says with a smile, as if she knows it anyway.

 You pull your bikini top on, making sure your boobs are well rested and adjusted inside the top. The bottoms are double knotted at the hips, the top a classic one that ties around your neck and back. Once the girls are where they’re meant to be, you look over yourself in the mirror, and you had to admit, the one month program did a number on you. Thighs and legs, slightly more toned, curves smoothed over, arms had a bit more shape to them, but nothing that screamed ‘ah yeah I work out’. And more than anything, the ass looked amazing. You knew you had an ass anyway, but now…

 “What do you think?” you ask Baela, pulling your hair up messily.

 She looks at you in the mirror, “I give it a day” she says as she smears lotion over her body.

 “Until?”

 “Til Aemond’s had you on every flat surface here”

 “You’re fucking gross, you know that”

 “Bet you 5 gold dragons”

 “You’re on,  bitch”

  Once suitably sun-creamed up, skin glistening with it, you rest your sunglasses on top of your head and take a deep breath, going out to be greeted by the warm, humid air. Luckily, only Aegon seems to be sat outside on a sunbed at the moment, his hat resting over his face. Baela happily passes you a bright orange cocktail, and not quite ready to get into the pool, you sit on the side and dip your legs in, the smell of chlorine making you feel like you were finally on holiday.

 Aegon lifts his hat, squinting, “Hello ladies”

 Baela dips into the pool, “Manwhore”

 “Well that’s not very nice”

 Aegon doesn’t make any further effort to speak, plopping his hat back over his face, one airpod in his ear. Sipping the cool drink you scan the area. The villas are cute and luxurious and from here down the cobbled path you can see the beach that backs onto it all, the glaring white sand calling to you and the rush of the waves against them are somewhat calming.

 The little bar in the corner plays some quiet music, not loud enough to disturb anyone from their sunbathing or other holiday-like activities. Alicent sits on the other side underneath a parasol, she’s wearing a classy one-piece and for a woman with four kids grown up, she doesn’t show it one bit, slender and youthful. She reads a book in her lap, sunglasses rested firmly on her nose, a diet-coke in one hand.

 The only sound at the moment was the quiet music and the rippling of water as Baela swam leisurely in the pool, careful not to get her hair wet.

 It was nice.

 Down the cobbled path, you hear the grunts of what sound like two male voices. Arching an eyebrow and tipping your sunglasses up, there’s two men, suitably broad, making their way up to your villa.

 “Ah, my favourite cousin has arrived!” this guy is shorter, but not short by any means, he has wild curly brown hair and wearing shorts that reach to about his knees. Not a red flag per se but…

 Baela splashes him from her spot in the pool, “See you two are getting along famously”

 The other guy with him you recognise as Cregan Stark, Rhaena’s current boyfriend. You’d seen him around when you were at university, but the years had been kind to him and he’d broadened significantly, with a dark beard and a smattering of chest hair covering his torso. At least he’s opted for more stylish shorts though. You give him a polite wave which he returns, he’d always been a softie, it seems that hadn’t changed. Good for Rhaena.

 Jace flashes a smile your way, “Is this the infamous y/n?” he asks, rounding the pool to come and stand beside you to introduce himself, “I’m Jace”

 It’s at this moment that Aemond comes out of his villa, towel in hand. You try your damndest to not look in his direction as he throws his towel at the sunbed next to Aegon, but when you break and do, he’s not even looking at you. He’s staring daggers into the back of Jace’s head, gaze dark as if he wants to take the poor guy’s head clean off. And he makes a fucking meal out of his, only briefly flitting to you before looking away.

 Oh.

 Oh.

 You bite back a smile.

 “Nice to meet you” you say, shaking his hand politely, looking back to Baela and pulling an awkward look. She’s doing the same thing with her eyebrow raised.

 “I’m the other cousin, my brother’s Luke and Joff are in the villa over” he says excitedly. Gods he’s like…a puppy. Even though he very well could be the same age or older, he’s vibrating with excitement. It’s kind of a turn off.

 “You’re Rhaenyra’s kids right?” you ask, politely pretending to be interested.

 He nods, “Yeah, you probably won’t see her. Her and Daemon are always in the cities being tourists”

 This attempt at conversation is…taking it all from you. He’s cute, but not fuckable cute. And with Aemond in your peripheral pretending to be on his phone, but secretly watching every word that’s exchanged, it’s kind of exciting to see him…jealous perhaps.

 You just nod and agree to whatever he says. Aemond visibly bristles, tongue poking the inside of his cheek when Jace signs off with, “You’re welcome to come to our villa whenever you want”

 A bit…forward if anything. But you thank him politely and Jace eventually retreats down the cobbled path to his villa, which he’s helpfully stated is only about a 2 minute walk.

 Cregan asks, “Where’s Rhaena?”

“At the beach”

Cregan gives a polite smile, going off to the white sandy beach in search of his girlfriend. Baela swims up to you, leaning on the side of the pool as you sip the last of your cocktail.

 “Is he always so adept with women?” you ask with a smirk, Baela snorts, “several times I caught him looking below the chin”

 “Can you blame him” Baela returns, “Nah, he’s harmless really, you coming in?” she asks, swimming on her back to the middle of the pool.

 Sighing, you pull the sunglasses from your head and put them aside, padding over to the ladder.

 Even though you don’t look, you feel the intensity of his gaze. Raking all over your skin, as if the more he stares, the more skin he’ll be able to see. Perhaps he’d wondered what you looked like beneath the black fabric of the bikini, what it might feel like to undo the ties of them and let the fabric peel off your moistened skin, exposing your most intimate areas to the humid air.

 Your skin blossoms at the thought, even with how hot it is. The sun makes it no easier to cool off from these musings, only serving to intensify the electric bolt that radiates between the both of you, becoming stronger the closer you are to him.

 He watches as your legs dip into the pool the further you descend down the ladder, the water moistening your sun-cream lotioned skin, slipping away in waves as the droplets lap against your toned thighs. Aemond thinks he might die on the spot when the water surges against your breasts, instantly making the supple skin there glisten in the sun.

 And if that wasn’t enough, you reach up in a surprisingly tempting gesture and pull the clip from your hair. He’d rarely seen your hair down, but here with the ends dipping into the pool, each strand glimmering a soft halo around your head with the afternoon glow, the reins he has pulled taut inside his head are slipping recklessly.

 Pretending to scroll through his phone, his brother Aegon smirks beneath his hat, shamelessly watching Aemond’s resolve slowly crumble. But you do a good job of barely looking at him for the remainder of the afternoon. The same cannot be said for him.

 He realises he’s fucked when Baela, the ever playful person she is, dunks you below the water and every bit of you is wet, water cascading off every curve as you laugh and wipe your eyes. Even when you pull yourself onto the ladder out of the pool, giving him the perfect view of your ass, pulling the bikini a little bit up your hips as you do so, he manages to somehow hold it together.

 Being late in the afternoon, the sun’s beginning to make its way down, so with a slight shiver you pull a towel around you, raking some fingers through your wet hair to get the chlorine-induced tangles out. You lean over the bar, waiting for the bartender to turn around,

“Baela, what do you want?”

“Whatever you’re having!”

The bartender flashes a smile once he recognises your presence, eyes flitting to your chest pressed between your arms as you lean over the bar before returning to your eyes.

 “What can I get for you” he asks lowly and your head cocks at the accent. It’s kinda hot.

 “Do you have gin and tonic?” you ask politely,

 He braces the bar, the vein in his arm visible from this angle, “We do, but I think for a pretty woman like you I can make something better”

 You raise an eyebrow, “like what?”

 He twirls a glass of something behind his back, clearly showing off his bartending skills, “How about something with ouzo?”

 You shrug with a smile, “Never tried it but sure”

 As he mixes the drink, you peer over your shoulder at Baela and then to Aemond. He’s already watching you. It’s that look again. The one he’d given you last time in his home gym. The one where it feels like he’s looking right inside you, the darkened, determined look. You keep his gaze, thinking he will just look away like he had before. But he doesn’t.

 A muscle in his jaw twitches with annoyance. Or perhaps not even annoyance. Something else.

 Once you’ve polished off several cocktails, Aemond leaves with Aegon to go inside, presumably to change clothes, but not before giving you a look over his shoulder. Anyone else would have thought he was livid. To be honest, for a second you thought he very well could be. For what reason he had to be livid? You had no idea.

 You spent the night slathered in mosquito repellent and sat outside with Baela, Rhaena and Cregan. You’d wanted to be comfortable so decided on a dress with spaghetti straps. It was a comfortably warm evening, with fire-lit torches illuminating the space around the villa. Rhaena had arrived back in the late afternoon, flushed in the face and hair tousled and you and both Baela had noted that Cregan’s shorts were untied. The sun was clearly getting to Rhaena. Her and Cregan was a fairly new thing and she’d been both shocked and giddy when he’d offered to be her plus one for the trip.

 Sometime in the night, a figure that was clearly Aemond and another white haired girl walked towards their villa.

 “Helaena!” Rhaena shouted over with a smile. Both figures stopped and your stomach fluttered with nervousness when Aemond’s eyes landed on you briefly. Then a slight pang of disappointment when he said goodbye to the woman next to him to slip inside the villa.

 The ethereal looking woman comes over excitedly, sitting beside you, “Oh my gosh, when did you guys get here!”

 “Cregan and I came yesterday” Rhaena smiles,

 “Yeah but they were probably in bed all day sleeping, right Rhae?” Baela murmurs into her drink earning a smack from her sister.

 “Well it’s nice to meet you, Cregan” Helaena smiles politely before turning to you, “And you are?”

 “I’m y/n, Helaena was it?” you ask, shaking her soft hand. She was really pretty, like a fairy just floating around. She had dangly earrings with ladybirds on them and was wearing a flowy cream dress.

 “Oh so you’re y/n, I’ve heard so much about you!”

 It catches you off guard slightly, but you nod and then turn to Baela furrowing your eyebrows confusedly. She’s heard so much about you? The hell does that mean?

 The rest of the night is really pleasant and Helaena stays with you all chatting for the remainder of it. She’s really nice it turns out. It’s a wonder she’s even related to her brothers. She tells you all about the family drama, which piques your excitement and that her youngest brother Daeron, didn’t end up coming since he’s studying abroad, so she came instead. And you’re grateful she did, it’s nice to have other new female company.

 In your shared bedroom, you and Baela chat well into the night, about a plethora of things. But one subject you refuse to broach is him. Nope. Can’t talk about him. He’s only a few metres away, if you let your mind wander too much it’ll all be over.

 It’s a restless night’s sleep and your subconscious certainly doesn’t help. All your mind can allow you to remember is the way he touched you, how he had pressed against you, how his lips were slotting against yours almost desperately, his low moan.

 The next morning, after having a continental breakfast, Baela puts on a long maxi dress.

 “Everyone’s going to the city for a shop around, wanna come?” Baela meets your eyes in the mirror.

 “Shopping? Nah, that’s fine I’ll just stay here, want to relax a little bit and get some more sun”

 “You sure? Feel bad leaving you here on your own”

 “Is everyone going with you?” you ask, pulling some shorts over your black bikini.

 “Nearly, except for Dad and Rhaenyra. Sure you don’t mind?” she asks,

“Course not, have a good time”

 Pulling a shawl over your shoulders you see Baela and everyone off before trudging down the cobbled path to the white, sandy beach, plopping yourself on the sand and opening a book you’d borrowed from the shelf near the bar. You let the sun beat down on your shoulders, the soft wind blowing through your hair and listening to the waves in the quiet hair while reading a book just seems so calming.

 You’d already gotten quite a bit of sun yesterday and your legs had glazed with a sun-kissed colour, as well as your arms. So much so, the bikini had left a few lines where the straps were, if only very faintly. It was always easy for you to catch the sun. Pulling off your shorts, you lean back on your elbows to read some more and get some colour on your thighs.

 Early afternoon came by quickly and before you knew it, you could feel the tingle of pinkness on your shoulders, where your bikini was tied at your neck.

 Fuck.

 You’d forgotten to put suncream there, Baela had been the one to reach the difficult spot yesterday.

 Packing up your things, you carry your shorts and shawl in one hand and trudge back to the villa. It’s quiet, everyone must still be in the city. Your hair had somewhat curled up from the sea breeze so you ran your fingers through it once inside, snagging on some tangles.

 Now, where was the aftersun. Baela had it…

 “Not a fan of shopping?”

 Your head swung around at the sudden, familiar voice. And there he was, looking annoyingly hot, leaning against the doorway to your villa, a toned arm supporting his weight. Again, he wasn’t wearing a shirt and his shorts hung on his hips, making your eyes dip to those lines that lead…

 No.

 He has a lazy smile on his face, happy to have got you flustered and allowing his eyes once again to look over you in just the black bikini once more.

 “No, not really” is all you can muster, going back to looking for the aftersun with urgency. But really you didn’t want him to see the pink flush on your cheeks. Seeing him like this, no less being alone with him, especially looking as good as he does, was about to drive you to madness.

 He hums and walks forward into the village, hands in his pockets, “Looking for something?”

 “U-uh, just the aftersun” you struggle, clearing your throat and cursing yourself for the shake in your voice at being in his presence once again.

 “Ah” he responds.

 You gasp when one of his arms braces the counter in front of you and he bends down to the mini fridge, opening it to produce a bottle of said aftersun. You could feel his presence at your back, broad and warm, all encompassing. Swallowing thickly, you take a breath. It must be the smell of something on his skin that gives off a subtle scent, but whatever it is makes your stomach flutter and a warm bloom settles in your abdomen.

 You go to reach for the bottle, but he pulls back, and you meet his gaze. His look is soft, but dark and steadfast.

 “Where”

 Jesus fucking christ. My heart is beating so fucking fast right now.

 “Um…back of my neck” it comes out a whisper, and he doesn’t miss the way your breasts move in the bikini as you nervously breathe slightly heavier.

 “Difficult to reach by yourself” he muses, his voice rumbling in his chest as he is standing right behind you. You bite your lip. Is this really fucking happening right now.

 You shiver when his large hand moves your hair from your back to one side of your neck, the feeling of his fingers brushing against the skin there almost makes an involuntary sound come out your mouth. But you repress it, closing your eyes to grab hold of your reins.

 One hand fiddles with the single knot of the tie at your neck, slowly, his breath steady. And he finds the one he needs and pulls slowly, unwinding the bow until the bikini top is loosened. Your hands move to hold the front of your bikini up to cover your breasts as the fabric falls. Your mind is at war with itself, stuck between thinking this is wrong and it should stop, and then the more dominant side thinks, he’s here, doing this, you might as well see where it goes.

 Even though it was only one thin strap, when he sees your almost bare back right before him, you hear him exhale lowly and you only know because you feel his hot breath against it. He deposits some cold aftersun in his hand and slowly reaches out to the slightly pink skin of your nape, to spread it across. Your body prickles with anticipation at his touch, coupled with the chill of the liquid. Nobody says a thing as he massages it into your skin, not quite feathery but he applies pressure, making sure to roll his fingers into the muscles there, so that you really feel him.

 He continues for a moment and then his other hand joins. You’re unsure if there is actually any aftersun left at this point and he is just finding an excuse to touch you, but you don’t stop him. Desire pools in your stomach as his hands drag south, down the expanse of your back, to the sides, nearly touching your own hands where they are covering your breasts. Your eyelashes flutter as you sigh at the feeling, his large palms working the moistened skin. It is this point your eyes open when you feel his very obvious erection, pressing firmly against your buttocks.

 You feel his breath close to your nape, and it all seems to fall apart as he presses his lips there. Once, twice, three times…and then again as he drags his lips up your neck to behind your ear.

 “It’s not fair…you getting to walk around like this…” he whispers next to your ear, his hands trace the contours of your breasts, “...every fucking guy ogling you…”

 One of his hands smoothes down your side, resting at your hip, fiddling with the single knot of your bikini there.

 “...wanting to fuck you…”

 He just lets his hang rest there, neither touching you where you need him the most. Your blood is rushing around your body, humming with desire. Frustrated at not being allowed the pleasure it so desperately needs.

 “...but you won’t let them, will you. You’ll just let them look, like the needy attention slut you are”

 His words are unexpected but they have their effect, and you can practically feel your arousal at what he says. One of his hands sneaks beneath yours, to grab one of your breasts tightly, almost possessively, pinching the nipple between his dexterous fingers. It makes you breathe out a quiet moan, your body slowly giving in.

 “Do you have any idea how much I wanted to fuck that stupid little attitude out of you?” he says, his breath hot on the shell of your ear.

 He moulds your breast in his palm effortlessly, waiting for an answer.

 But you moan louder in both surprise and arousal when he squeezes it harshly, “I asked you a question”

 “Fuck-no, I didn’t…” you somehow manage, cracking your eyes open slightly. You see him only a little in your peripheral, expecting him to be smirking. But he’s not, he is dead serious. Which somehow serves to awaken your desire even more.

 His other hand slips beneath the fabric of your bikini and he himself lets out a guttural moan feeling how turned on you already are, the pads of his fingers collect the wetness already there, moving up to circle your slit with your own slick. Your mouth falls open slightly, body trembling with anticipation. God why does it feel so good.

“I would have had you in every way imaginable…if you’d stayed…” he murmurs against you, speeding up the motions of his finger.

“Fuck…Aemond-please”

 He spins you around quickly, the top of your bikini falling in a useless mess to the floor and he quite literally growls at the sight of your tits, as if he’d imagined what they might look like for a long time. His jaw tightens at the sight and he pushes the bottoms down to the floor, sinking to his knees almost instantly so he is staring hungrily at your cunt, wet and dripping for him.

 His hands remain at your hips, his fingers bruising red marks into them.

“Please what”

 Shit.

 Your face flushes red at the sight of him so close to your intimate area, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t a little embarrassed, but his pupils are so dilated with pure lust, it almost makes you forget.

 Your body jolts when he slaps your pussy hard, sending a jolt of pleasure through your clit and clawing up your spine, a desperate sound escapes you. He need not say anything else.

 “Please, I need you” you whine pathetically and he huffs, as if annoyed, using his large hands to part your legs even further, the counter biting into your lower back.

 “That’s what I fucking thought”

 He dives into your pussy with his tongue, swirling the soft, wet muscle around your clit a few times deliciously before venturing down, fucking you with his tongue and lapping up your slick like a man starved. He grips your hips as if you might move away from him, keeping you right where he wants you and all the while your desperate whines and the lewd sound of his mouth are the only thing that fills the otherwise quiet villa.

 You pray nobody returns, because what you’re doing right now deserves to be loud.

 God, how long had it been since a man last treated you this way. Since a man had known what to do with you so confidently, to have you a moaning mewling mess.

 It’s here when you look down, that you realise he’s fucking moaning while eating your pussy, almost sounding as if he’s enjoying this far more than you are. Enjoying your taste, your scent, everything. He briefly looks up at you, drinking in the indulgent look on your pinkened face, before delving deeper, his sharp nose rubbing against your clit with every move he makes with his tongue within you.

 You nearly lose it entirely when he presses two fingers inside, immediately crooking them to rub against that delicious spongy spot that makes your mouth hang open.

 “Ohfuck” you whimper as he doubles his efforts on your clit while pistoning his long, slender fingers within you. It feels like so much and your hand comes down to his wrist, feeling your climax curl in your gut and threatening to explode faster than ever. But he groans and uses his other hand to push it away, blissfully ignoring you and going faster in an effort to make you come apart around him.

 “You gonna come on my fucking tongue” he growls into your pussy, his ministrations never stopping for a second and in fact his lips lock around your clit to suck. A desperate moan spills from your mouth, not even passing your brain.

 “Yes, yes…” you pant, “Fuck-Aemond”

 Your hands brace the counter as your climax is ripped from you by the force of his fingers and mouth. Pure, white hot pleasure wakes every nerve in your body, prickling up your back and into your limbs, making them go numb. You barely register the sound you even make as Aemond continues to fuck you with his fingers through it, lapping up every bit of your essence that comes out, moaning and chanting ‘good fucking girl’.

 It genuinely takes you a moment to recover from it, your chest shining with sweat from the effort. But before you know which way is up, he rises, hands under your thighs to pull you up onto the counter, which is good since your legs were starting to give in from the force of your orgasm.

 “Aem-”

 His lips are on yours before you even have a chance to speak, allowing your legs to part so he might press flush against your weeping cunt. You feel his erection, hard and thick against you and it only makes you want it more. He takes you in with his lips as if it’s the air he breathes, a mess of lips, tongues and the taste of you, sweet like nectar.

 “Fuck, want you so bad” he breathes between kisses, outright moaning when your fingers card into the hair at his nape and grip.

 “Fuck me, I want to feel all of you”

 His eyes peer open down at you, his chest heaving with desire.

 “Please, don’t make me beg”

 At this, he does smirk, pushing his shorts further down his hips and freeing his cock, “I’d like to see you beg, baby”

 Christ.

 He’s much bigger than you’ve had before, definitely bigger than your pathetic ex was anyway (not like it’s hard). You take him into your palm, hot, weighty and heavy and he tilts his head back at the feeling as you give his length a few languid strokes, although there really is no need since he’s been constantly hard the second he saw you come out the taxi the day before. The way his face contorts when you rub your thumb over his weeping tip makes you think he is painfully hard, aching for any kind of release.

 God, if this is what he looks like now, you want to see his face when he is fucking you stupid.

 You guide him to your waiting core, his head barely kissing your entrance.

 “I’ve got an IUD, please-”

 He doesn’t need to hear any more, his hands reach out to grip your waist, pulling you forward as he pushes, letting out a guttural moan as he sinks into you to the hilt. He moves your leg to hook around him, trying to get as close to you as possible.

 “Fuck…” he moans with a shudder as his cock is squeezed by your tightness, “god you’re so fucking tight”

 Everything about this has your blood on fire. His cock fills you so perfectly, his moans, his words, the way his hands are holding you apart for him to use you. One of his hands moves to your nape, grabbing the hair there in his grip tightly, and the tension against your hair makes you moan out as well.

 But he doesn’t move.

 “Aemond…”

 “Beg for it” he orders, his stomach taut with the effort it takes to hold himself back. Frustrated and turned on beyond belief, you try and move your hips for friction. His hand flies from your hip to your jaw, fingers bruising into your cheeks, making you look directly at him and your eyes meet his, wide-eyed and heavily dilated, “Beg for it like the fucking slut I know you are”

 Once again his words ignite that fire that creeps down your spine, and you feel every bit of him. Every vein on his cock, how it twitches within your heat and how it kisses your cervix with how big it is.

 “Please fuck me, just move Aemond-please”

 You don’t have the resolve to deny it now. You want it so bad, more than you’ve wanted anything ever.

 He wets his lips, “That’s it” he coos.

 He pulls almost all the way out before slamming back inside, watching the way your tits bounce when his hips snap against yours with need. He doesn't start gently, too pent up for that, nor does he build up to it. He fucks you on the counter like he’s not been able to get a moment’s rest from thinking about this for weeks. The hand in your hair tightens impossibly, holding you there while his cock drags against your walls, still sensitive from your previous climax.

 Aemond watches his cock disappear over and over again into you, coated in your slick, revelling in the filthy sounds it makes when he slaps against you. And when he delivers a particularly hard thrust, brushing against that spot inside, your hand flies to your mouth to contain your moans, concerned that if anyone did come back, they’d be able to hear you.

 “None of that” he growls, ripping your hand away from your mouth, his eyes glimmering with mischief, “I wanna hear how good I make you feel”

 It’s impossible to hold back. He sees it all as a challenge now as he takes your hips with both hands, fucking you even faster if it were possible. He adjusts his hips and his stomach muscles, toned and hard ripple with the effort, his strong arms caging you completely in and he looks down at you as if he wants to see exactly the moment it happens.

 You grip his forearm tightly, “Aemond-I’m-”

 “Fuck I can feel you squeezing me…you gonna cum for me, hm? All over my cock” he breathes.

 You nod desperately, “Yesyes…please…cum inside me-”

 His brow arches smugly at this, a smirk etching on his features, “You want me to fill you up, huh”

 “Gods - yes”

 “Hm” he hums, allowing his large hand to encircle your throat, only barely squeezing, “gonna make you work for it”

 It’s when he squeezes your neck that you shut your eyes, face contorted in pleasure and that coil inside snapping forcefully. You can practically feel the rhythm of your heartbeat through your clit as you let go completely, gripping onto him for dear life. You don’t know what he means by ‘work for it’ but you don’t really care right now. The pleasure comes in waves over your body and Aemond pistons in and out through it, a lazy smile on his face watching you as you orgasm.

 You realise in all this that he’s not stopped. His hips continue to press into you faster and faster, now bullying the overly sensitive spots inside that have been decimated by your climax.

 “Aemond?...” you manage with a breathy moan, quickly feeling overstimulated.

 “Told you I’d make you work for it” he muses, moving his thumb to circle your clit.

 You gasp out, back arching against him as he tries to work yet another orgasm out of you, “I-I can’t-”

 “Give it to me” he orders, all while keeping that breakneck pace as he fucks you, sparking white-hot and borderline unbearable pleasure in two ways against your body. He leans forward to lick a fat stripe up the column of your neck all the way up to your ear and the change in position has his cock once again directly drag against that spot inside, one that makes your eyes shut, face contort and stars begin to appear behind them.

 “Give it to me like the good girl you are” he whispers as he bites down on the skin of your neck, marking you for himself.

 With a strangled cry, you give in, thighs trembling against his muscled sides and you feel another gush of arousal coat his cock by the loud sounds it's still making. He fucks you through this one, his strokes becoming sloppy, and you go limp in his arms feeling that he may also not last much longer.

 “Good girl-fuck” he cums with a shattered moan after that, his head buried into your neck as you feel his hot spend paint your walls, giving a few desperate thrusts until his cock twitches from overstimulation, still seated within you. Still coming down from the two close orgasms he’d given you, you take a moment to come back to earth, eyes cracking open after a while.

 Even with him still inside you, you can feel the combination of his spend and your own arousal leaking out of you, coating your thighs. He pulls his head tiredly from your neck to look at you. And he looks amazing, so blissed out, a bit pink in the face, but there’s a new softness there now where there wasn’t before.

 “Gods, you’re so perfect…”

 You kiss him desperately, not wanting this feeling to end as you both come down from your respective highs. And there’s a part inside of you that is self-conscious that perhaps all he wanted was sex, and that he doesn’t like you at all, so you savour this moment, concerned that after all this…there might be nothing.

 “Go on a date with me…” he says suddenly and you look up at him. For the first time since you’ve known him, he looks nervous, “please…”

 Combined with the thoughts you were just having, his words are so overwhelming that for the time it takes you to think of an answer, you just laugh breathlessly, which makes him arch a confused brow.

 “Date?” you ask, wondering if you’d heard correctly, “not to the gym I hope”

 “No, not at the gym” he laughs, “I…I’d like to get to know you better” he confesses.

 You huff a laugh, “You’re literally inside me right now”

 He lets out his own laugh, and it’s nice to see him genuinely smile, “not like that”

 His chest is still moving with his breathing, still slightly laboured, and your eyes glance over him for a moment, taking him all in. His hair has somewhat come free of his bun, so you tuck a strange behind his ear in a gesture that makes Aemond’s heart squeeze.

 “I’d love to”

 The smile on his face is unmistakable, and not a hint of smugness to it.

 Once he’s pulled his softening cock from your core and you’ve both cleaned yourself up, it overcomes both of you that you can’t keep your hands off each other, can’t spend a moment without lips locked. Everyone’s definitely going to notice.

 “I don’t want to hide it from anyone, if you don’t” you say in a whisper.

 He squeezes your ass lovingly, giving it a playful swat, “I certainly don’t”

 A few hours later, once the sun has started to hit the tops of all the buildings and the sky turns a hazy red with the sunset, you sit beside him, legs dipped in the pool and a shawl pulled around your shoulders from the slight chill. You let your head rest on his shoulder, utterly content as he kisses the crown of your head, in a shockingly loving gesture despite how he was railing you earlier. One strong arm wrapped around your waist.

 “Fuck” you whisper.

 “What” he asks amused.

 “I owe Baela 5 gold dragons”

taglist (sorry if I missed anyone, I’m crap, bold means I couldn’t tag)

@jacevelaryonswife​ @lovelykhaleesiii​@urmomsgirlfriend1@iiamthehybrid​ @namelesslosers​  @chainsawsangel​ @warmfieldofgrass​ @mynameisbaby9​ @afro-hispwriter​ @tempo-rary-fix​ @toodlesxcuddles @definitelynotsatans​ @svtansdaddyx​ @tssf-imagines​ @darkenchantress​ @vrtualfairy​ @fan-goddess​ @skikikikiikhhjuuh​ @helaenaluvr​ @sarahkimtae​ @blackxisxmyxcolour​ @castellomargot​ @girlwith-thepearlearring​ @julczimozart​ @amazingdisneyfansblog​ @slutforaemond@thedamewithabook@Iiamthehybrid@sahvlren@Whoknows333@cosmoeticss

[ihopesocomic]

You said that I Hope So is not a "My Pride but better", it's an original story of yours. Fair. I don't disagree. But do you really think you're SUCH a better writer than tribble? 😭 Because every time someone PMs you in a way that isn't negative, you start to completely shit on it, and compare it to how you decided to do it differently in your own story and how it's so much better. Hold on there. I just think artists/writers should be careful when they worship and praise their own works too much while shitting on others works that often were born from a similar idea. But I'm not hating, it's just funny tho.

It's not about us "thinking we're SUCH better writers than Tribble", it's more that's your interpretation of what we're saying. I'm willing to bet that if we didn't have this comic, the argument would be more along the lines of 'well, I'd like to see you do better!' instead. This is just the flip side of the coin, I feel.

I say this because you seem to have this idea that she and her writing are untouchable to criticism vs. something like Warrior Cats, (which is where a lot of MP's narrative structure is inspired from), which even the self-admitted fans can find fault in. Still doesn't mean they can't find the potential in those books and make their own AUs or w/e without also suggesting they're better writers than the Erins. (Either way, certain expectations come with being a professional writer.)

Even without the badly-handled topics, her show just isn't written well. Dialogue is clunky and non-conversational, things get mentioned but never get followed through on, character motivations are all over the place. We have a whole three hour video talking about this if you'd care to watch it. But there are other things that I feel make Tribble an objectively bad writer. This isn't us "shitting on her". These are just fundamental factors that go against How to be a Good Writer 101:

Tribble never listened to criticism and she used serious issues as entertainment value. No one can argue that even highly-rated writers can produce incredibly sloppy work when 1) they feel they don't have to listen to criticism and 2) they feel they don't have to do proper research with a topic they want to cover in their work while knowing next to nothing about it.

As well as being a professional in her field, Tribble also had resources at her disposal that most indie creators cannot access. She had an editor and beta script readers helping her. In short, she had plenty of opportunities and guidance to stop and look back on what she had produced and make improvements. She did not and, what's more: she put on a show of doing so via asking for criticism but not taking it on board.

We know this because I tried to give her advice on several occasions, only to be shot down. For example, Tribble was very much aware of some of the underlying issues within the show (i.e. how bad it looked that Hover allowed Nothing to be assaulted by Quickmane in Episode 5 with zero reaction) because we brought it to her attention, she proceeded to not take our suggestions on how to improve things on board for one reason or another.

And I don't think I need to go into how it feels very backhanded that an able-bodied creator is producing a "pro-disability" show and yet refused to take on criticism by disabled viewers. (I would say that thinking so highly of oneself to the point where advice goes ignored even when asked for does not a good writer make.)

I also don't know if you're under the impression that we're tearing into some hobbyist's passion project but that's not what this is. My Pride was a professional production, made by a team and it had a budget of around 140-150k CAD, which was funded by Canadian taxpayers. We've had to repeatedly point this out because Tribble has failed to gone out of her way to make this clear. Presumably so people like you feel bad for her.

So, I'm sorry but it's perfectly fair game to criticise MP and how Tribble went about producing it. She had plenty of opportunities to improve what many deemed to be shortcomings. She did not. She thought she knew better, even better than those who have experienced the actual oppression she sought to depict in an edgy, disrespectful manner.

And that's why we feel she's bad writer. Her fans are free to disagree with us, but I've yet to come across any real argument outside of 'y'all r just mean!', even though we've been courteous enough to not get personal when criticizing her as a writer/director.

Our writing isn't perfect. We've always consistently made that clear. We have had several instances throughout the process of making this comic where readers have made good points that we have brought on to improve the writing. Hell, I've discovered things I didn't even know about my own conditions via some of the readers of this comic. The overreaching lesson is that you should listen to your readers, because they just want you to produce a better narrative. Unfortunately, I feel Tribble did not feel the same way about her audience, and I'm also getting the same vibes from you, anon. Purely by your notion that criticism of a show or not scolding our fans when they say they have a preference like the MP fans do = "shitting on MP". Which is fine but I'm going to have to say I disagree. It's not mean or problematic for me or any of my disabled readers to have strong opinions about a show that misappropriates our oppression.

Or that I think my writing is amazing when it's more that I'm improving what I personally feel needs to be improved. Such as how the disabled are always depicted in mainstream media. And I'll continue to do so. You can come at me with the reductive gatekeeping that is that I - as a disabled person - do not have the right to have an opinion on an able-bodied creator writing ableism badly and how it can be improved all you want, but I think that's ultimately more of a commentary on you than me. c: - RJ

[the-haven-keepers-collective]

local Piglin goes on unhinged rant /silly

aLRIGHT FUCKERS buckle up I'm gonna scream about exomemories, noemata, and Piglin culture and general Piglin fuckery. Some stuff about Enderfolk in our canon too, just a very small section.

Preamble real quick: Yes, we know some of these things in the "worldbuilding" of our noemata/exomemories are likely or even undoubtedly subconsciously inspired by Tumblr posts or media. If you notice it, we probably already know. Please don't comment on it, it kinda bothers us for reasons that are hard to articulate. Also, plz be mature about the bits that could be read as kink-coded. It's not a kink it's literally our version of marriage. Nothing against kink tho shout out to kinky alterhumans.

Oh also, post written by Techno. I am the local Piglin in question.

So for one, Nether culture is very cutthroat. "Learn fast or die" in the words of Avatar. It's home and I love it, but it's not the sort of place most people are able to get comfortable in. Comfort requires safety, safety requires resources, and resources are very few in the Nether. Survival is priority in the Nether; a lot of the culture within stems from that base fact.

Hair is super important to Piglin culture. It has nothing to do with hair itself and everything to do with the result of it- long hair is an easy handle in a fight, and sometimes a braid someone can get ahold of is the difference between life and death. It's the norm to keep your hair short; from maybe chin length to properly against-the-head levels of short. Long hair is considered to be a sign of a skilled warrior, since they're skilled enough to have an active hindrance for the sake of aesthetic. The longer the more of a threat they are. If you challenge a Piglin with waist length hair. Hairstyles have some significance too- high ponytails are the most dangerous to have with how much they stick out, so they're the "fuck you I'm a badass" of hair pretty much.

I've already mentioned this in a post before, but it's pretty common for teens to try and grow out their hair and end up with shitty, choppy haircuts from a fight. It's considered normal- kids get cocky and they're kind of assholes to each other. Everyone in the Nether knows this aspect of Piglin culture, so the danger isn't unique to fights with other Piglin, either- long hair as a Piglin makes you a well-respected individual at best, a potential target at worst. That's not as true in the overworld, where most people don't know about the hair thing. It's also not that uncommon for those with long hair to cut their hair before a battle as a sort of symbol for "going all in" so to speak. They're taking away the hindrance they've gotten used to- that means they're going to use all their force, all their skills, and typically means they're willing to die in this fight.

In source- skip this paragraph for source talk- my mother did this when helping me escape the Nether. Our village wasn't very fond of The Blood God, and for reasons that'd take up more space on an already very long (and not even near done) post, they went after me. Lemme tell y'all when a Piglin woman cuts her hair in front of a full village of people ready to kill her and grabs her axe, you motherfuckin' FEAR HER AND RUN. /silly

Alright hair aside! I'm finally done yelling about hair. Enderfolk! For one, they're called Enderfolk in our canon. They have zero concept of gender and frankly we just like the word better anyway. This is a tidbit that'd probably be better on our Enderfolk's post when/if they write it, but it's necessary context. Enderfolk, in our canon, are only creatures of the End. The End is completely closed off- which we'll get to in another post I'm sure, Kip can explain that one. Enderfolk aren't naturally found in any other dimension; They're "raptured" into the nether. Think, if you've heard of or seen the backrooms, how you just sort of clip into the backrooms. One step on seemingly solid ground and suddenly the world spins around you as you fall, and you're in another dimension. They appear, consistently, in warped forests.

The Nether doesn't naturally have warped forests either- they just started bleeding through, spreading, one day. It was one day thousands of years ago, to be fair, so most societies in my source memories had long since adjusted. We're not quite sure how much of Ender culture is even left for the Enderfolk in the Nether and overworld, since most of it is just reframed Piglin, Blazeborne, Pheonixkin, etc. culture. Most Netherborne are actually really fond and protective of Enderfolk nowadays because... I mean, really 99% of us have a memory of meeting one who was still adjusting and very clearly confused and stressed about losing their home/being plonked unceremoniously into a completely different environment. A lot of them take at least a year just to adapt to the temperatures, and the language barrier is... messy at best for a while. Gods forbid the village doesn't have a translator on hand.

Anyway; ROMANCE, HUH? Yeah we've got that too. I had forgotten until recently that Piglin do actually use the term 'mate' in our canon. I'm not sure there's a term equivalent for "dating" though? If there is I don't remember it. Which is kind of funny, because there is absolutely a major difference between being someone's spouse and being their mate. For a Piglin, at least, a mate is a much bigger commitment than a spouse. It varies from person to person obviously, but the general consensus as far as I remember was that a spouse spends their life with you. A mate makes a vow that a spouse does not in most situations; they will die for you. They will fight along your side to their last breath if they must.

Like I said earlier- a lot of Nether culture is based in the cutthroat nature of the dimension. The very act of the mating ritual- here's where my preamble about kink becomes relevant- proves that better than anything in my opinion. Piglin give each other weapons. A ring is shiny and sure gold is a huge deal, but most Piglin have already collected about five million of the things. A blade, or perhaps a bow on the rare occasion, is far more valuable in the Nether. In my Noemata, the blades are usually daggers and very ornate, but it depends on the culture of the area because it varies and just personal taste. Sometimes a useful but boring-looking weapon for their mate to fight with for life will be treasured far more than a fancy weapon that will ultimately never see any blood.

Anyway, the mating ritual is entirely about vulnerability; something that, in the Nether, gets you fucking killed. Funny, I use the word cutthroat to describe the Nether- that's literally what you do, though. Usually it's done in private because it has a borderline (or outright) spiritual tone to it, and the whole thing vulnerability that you don't want to be seen by anyone other than your mate or mates. The blade gifted to propose is used- and if their mate responded with a gift of their own that's used as well. The response gift is up to personal preference; some feel like it's too transactional, others feel it's about equal respect, others just want an excuse to give their mate a pretty knife. Throats are bared, and very gently ever so carefully blood is drawn. Dangerous? Yes. I'm genuinely not quite sure that the specific points in my mind could have blood safely drawn on a human. That's the point; the trust in each other to not be cruel or even just accidentally fuck it up is immense. This is not only trusting someone to stand by their vow to take their last breath for you if they have to, but trusting them to not take your last breath.

Some tidbits I couldn't fit in easily anywhere:

Proposal blades are purely meant to be for the tastes of one's mate, not for the one proposing. It's considered pretty rude to propose with a blade that's tailored more to your taste than theirs. Unlike wedding rings, no compromises have to be made- that knife is purely for ONE person. Hence why some Piglin prefer to give a blade in response.

TW FOR (IN-SOURCE) GENOCIDE AND DEATH, RELIGIOUS THEMES IG. Y'know the way we're REAL trigger-happy, attacking on sight if you don't have gold? Yeah there's a reason for that. Piglin are hunted. It's a clockwork sort of thing; done annually. Skywarden, in the words of the person who created them (we have permission to talk about them) are "Toxic Minecraft Christians." I'll get into their lore some other time maybe, if we do a chonky post on the mythology and history of our canon. Skywarden are, essentially, angels. For a species of empaths, they aren't very empathic. They have a white and gold theme- guess where they get all that gold. -_- Piglin are violent but we have good reason to be. Anyone that isn't clearly Netherborne (or Enderfolk) is shot on sight lol

OH MY GOD DID I MENTION PIGLIN ARE SORT OF COLD-BLOODED IN OUR CANON???? I DON'T THINK I DID. YEAH WE'RE COLD-BLOODED. Living near lava lakes will do that to you.

We have boats btw. Like fucking boats made of Nether brick type shit. I'm still not sure how the fuck that works I just know we had boats.

Most of the bit about mates is using monogamy as an example but monogamy isn't considered "the norm" and polyamory "a deviation" in Piglin culture. It's just sort of there. No one gives a shit.

ANYWAY HAVE ALL THAT get hit with a wall of text nerds. /silly

Feel free to ask questions if anyone has them! I don't expect any, but I also don't want anyone to feel like asking questions is bad. We actively want to delve into our sources and what we know or remember about our personal canons more. "Doubles" and such are welcome as well we don't care lol.

[buckyispunk]

Better Man

Alcoholic!Joel Miller x Reader

masterlist

Summary: Falling in love with Joel Miller is heaven. It's leaving him and forcing yourself to move on that's hard. Inspired by Taylor Swift's "Better Man."

A/N: Very angsty, please don't read if you're not a fan of heartbreak! Huge shoutout to one of my fav authors, @macfrog, for the beta!

Warnings: alcoholism, smoking (cigarettes), Joel yelling and throwing things (he never hurts reader tho), Joel being mean, littering (just for the sake of the fic, please don’t in real life), idrk what else lmk if I'm missing anything please

Word Count: 2.2k

All lyric credit goes to T-Swift!!

Rain beats down against your car window. You watch water droplets roll down the glass. You’ve got the radio on, waiting for the storm to let up so you don’t get soaked on the walk into your apartment. A glint of red from the passenger side floor catches your eye. A carton of Marlboro cigarettes - Joel’s cigarettes. How long had they been there?

You’re walking into the bar with your friends when you see him for the first time, cigarette hanging between his lips. He’s leaning up against the brick wall, clad in faded jeans and a worn flannel. His grey hair is curling at the ends. He takes the cigarette between two fingers and pulls it from his mouth. His broad chest expands as he inhales deeply before blowing a cloud of smoke past his pink lips. Grey wisps linger in the humid Texas air as he calls out to you. 

“Hey darlin,’” he drops the cigarette and stomps it under a work boot, leaving a black, ashy stain on the concrete beneath. “‘S a nice outfit,” he nods his chin in gesture, “Can I buy you a drink?”

You had spent the rest of that night curled into his arm in a sticky booth seat, discussing childhood crushes, family trauma, and everything in between. The rest, as they say, had been history. Joel had picked you up the next weekend, flowers in hand and nervous sweat on his brow. His southern charm had you falling for him dangerously quickly. Luckily, he was just as head over heels for you - you could tell by the fascination in his eyes as he hung on to your every word whenever you offered up new information about yourself, like he was a starved man and your words were his sustenance.

I waited on every careless word Hoping they might turn sweet again like it was in the beginning

The day Joel asked you to move in with him was one of the best of your life.

You open the door to his house to find him standing in the entryway, bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand. His other hand is clutching something small, concealing it. 

“Hey, hon,” he shifts from foot to foot, “How was work?”

“Fine, babe,” you gesture to the flowers, “What’s all this?”

“I-um,” he scrunches his brows and hesitates for a moment, “so, you’re almost always over here already anyway. I want to spend as much time as possible with you. Want you cuddled up with me in our bed every night. Want to come home to you after a hard day at work. Want to be here to take care of you when you have bad days, too. I love you and I guess what I’m askin’, darlin’, is if you’d move in with me?”

He unfurls his other hand, presenting a key. You quirk a brow in surprise. 

“Oh my gosh, Joel,” you stare at him in disbelief as his expression turns into one of nerves and anticipation. 

“Yes!” you practically screech, excitement flooding your body. 

You run over to Joel and wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face into his strong chest. Joel sets the flowers down on the nearest surface and embraces you with one arm. His other hand lowers to slip the house key into your pants’ pocket. 

After that, he had carried you upstairs and made love to you. You fell asleep in Joel’s doting embrace as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear. Living with Joel had been everything he’d promised. Until it wasn’t. It had been when he and his crew were working on a particularly rough job that things started to change. 

He transitioned from drinking on special occasions or when out with friends to having a beer or two every night with dinner. You didn’t think too much of it at first. It was only when he started downing several glasses of whiskey a night that you got concerned. You asked him about it, wondering why the sudden change. I just need it to help me relax after work, hon. He’d promised you that it wasn’t an issue, this is just a really hard job. He brushed you off every time you’d tried to talk to him about it.

His drinking started to come between the two of you. He would opt to have a beer and watch football rather than spend time or share conversation with you. On nights when there wasn’t a game on, he’d go out to the bar - sometimes with buddies from work, sometimes alone. 

He was too tired to take you out, too stressed to do anything more than press a chaste kiss to your lips once in a while. He began to get irritated easily - the two of you found yourself arguing over meaningless things often. It seemed the only time he wasn’t complaining was when he had a drink in his hand. He’d passed out in his recliner watching TV nearly every night during that project. You’d lie in bed and fall asleep waiting for his side of the mattress to dip with his weight, only to wake up the next morning and find him gone for work.

When the project ended and he had some time off, you expected him to lighten up on the drinking. With all the extra time he had, things only got worse. You’d leave for work and he would still be asleep. You would come home every night to find him with a beer bottle in hand and empty ones at his feet.

Talking down to me like I’d always be around Push my love away like it was some kind of loaded gun

One night, you’d tried, for what seemed like the hundredth time, to talk to him about it. 

You come home after a long day of work to find Joel snoring in his recliner. He’s wearing boxers and a t-shirt - he hardly ever gets dressed anymore. It’s times like these when you could almost pretend everything is normal. That he’ll hear you and wake up. That he’ll jump up and give you a hug, make you dinner, ask you about work. Instead, you watch a string of drool run down his chin.

You make your way over to him and gently remove the bottle from his hand, setting it on the table. You run a hand through his hair and shake his shoulder, rousing him. 

“Oh, hey,” he hiccups. 

You can smell the alcohol on his breath. You hear his stomach rumble and wonder whether he’d even bothered to eat anything today. 

“Hey, babe,” you muster the most sincere smile you can, foolishly hoping that you might get one in return. 

He looks past you and grabs the bottle from the table. 

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough to drink today, baby? How about I make us some dinner, we can sit and eat together like we used to,” you offer. 

You reach to take the sweating bottle from him, but he raises a hand to stop you.

“I jus’ wanted to finish watching the game, babe. How ‘bout t’morrow?” he slurs. 

“Joel I really think you should see someone about the drinking. It’s not healthy for you. I love you and I miss you. I want to help you, baby.”

He stands from the chair, grip tightening on his bottle.

“I know my own fuckin’ limits, thank ya very much,”  his sharp tone makes you flinch. 

“Can you at least eat something? This isn’t good for you.” 

“Jesus, will you just leave me alone?” his lips wrap around the opening of the bottle and he turns the bottle up, letting the rest of the alcohol pour down his throat. He turns to walk away from you and you reach a hand out to grab his forearm.

“I’ll make you your favorite dinner, Joel. It’s been months, baby. You said you’d lay off the drinking after the one job, but it’s just gotten worse. You haven’t been working and it’s not healthy for you to stay in the house and drink all day,” you try to reason. “I’ll make dinner for us and we can go to bed together.”

You look into his eyes, searching for a sliver of the man you love. You remember the way he used to look at you as if he would gladly let his heart break into a million little pieces, as long as you were the one shattering it. As if he would do everything in his power, and then some, just to put a smile on your face. As if he would face his demise head on if you were the sight burned into the back of his eyelids as he faded.

Your search is futile. The only thing you find in his dark, bloodshot eyes is something you’re too afraid to call contempt. He lets out an exasperated sigh and mutters your name, “I just want some time to myself. You’re always nagging me about the drinking. It’s not a big deal. I’m just stressed all the time and you’re really not helping. Could you just quit being annoying for once?” He runs a hand through the scruff on his chin.

You drop your hand from his arm as if his skin had scorched you. His words settle like a heavy weight on your chest, keeping you from drawing a full breath. It’s as if his heart holds nothing but distaste for you. You look up at him with watery eyes and try to remember the last time he had even told you he loved you.

“I can’t keep doing this, Joel. I’m going to leave if you don’t get help. Neither of us are happy anymore. Can you please just talk to someone so we can go back to the way things used to be? You can be happy without the alcohol,” you plead with him, trying desperately to reach the Joel that you know is in there somewhere. The Joel you hope is in there, anyway. 

“Will you stop it?” his voice is violently angry, “I don’t need fuckin’ help, I just need to be left the fuck alone!” his southern drawl booms throughout the room.

You startle at his sudden outburst, flinching away from him. You feel your eyes overflow, salty tears leaving wet trails down your cheeks. 

“Goddamn it,” Joel mutters before turning to the wall. He raises his empty bottle and tightens his fist around it. He pulls his arm back and launches the bottle at the wall. It shatters and sends glass flying everywhere. You stand, watching in shock. 

“Joel,” your mouth drops and you step away from him. 

Joel has never hit you. Hell, before tonight, he’d never even yelled at you. But the coldness in his eyes and the way he clenches his fist scares you. You turn and make for the door, wanting to leave before things escalate any more. Tears are streaming down your face as you twist the doorknob. You look back at him as you step out of the house. You see him shake his head as he grabs a bottle of whiskey off the shelf and you close the door behind you without another thought. 

You stayed at your friend’s house that night, sobbing as she told you to leave him. The next morning, you had stood on your front porch, bones heavy with dread, unsure of what you’d find when you opened the door. When you finally worked up the courage to push the door open, you’d been met with the sight of Joel sprawled face-down on the couch, snoring. 

He hadn’t woken as you quietly stepped inside and closed the door behind you. He hadn’t woken as you packed all your belongings into suitcases. He hadn’t woken as you left your house key, along with a tear-stained goodbye note, sitting on the table. He hadn’t woken as you rolled your suitcases outside, packed them into your car, and blocked his number on your cell phone before driving away from Joel. Away from home.  

I know why we had to say goodbye like the back of my hand But I just miss you and I just wish you were a better man

You let out a shaky exhale as you pick the pack of cigarettes up off of the floor. You squeeze your eyes shut and wish, for a moment, that things had never changed - that his hand is still splayed out across your thigh and he’s pouting in the passenger seat beside you, I should be the one driving. You’re supposed to be my passenger princess.

After fidgeting with the cardboard box for a minute, you decide that you’re sick of waiting for the storm to let up. You open the car door and step out into the rain. You release the carton and let it fall to the wet ground. Bringing a shoe down on top of the box, you crush it underneath your foot, as if trying to stomp out a flame - as if trying to stomp out the memories the cigarettes had ignited - and watch raindrops roll off of it. Without looking back, you turn and walk inside.

We might still be in love if you were a better man You would’ve been the one if you were a better man.