#it's kind of a dream come true like. points. this is what i was working towards

[readwritealldayallnight]

Part seven of ‘Bird Watching’ aka hot construction worker Simon x single mom reader

The fight happens on a day like any other, a random Tuesday in early March

Stepping outside as you clutch your baby close to your chest, you’d almost expected to find the earth to have stopped spinning, to see birds dropping dead to the ground midflight, for dogs to bark incessantly at seemingly nothing at all, hell maybe even for the sun to have disappeared from the sky entirely

But no, everything was still the same, the world went on, the earth kept spinning, and life continued, even in spite of that heavy feeling in your chest telling you that nothing would ever be the same again, not when your world had just seemingly slipped out from under you

What else were you to think after learning what you’d just been told?

You’d sat in that office for far too long, the bright murals on the walls more obnoxious than ever, smiling paintings of woodland creatures mocking you with every second that ticked by, your mind unable to wrap itself around the words being thrown at you, seeing as they were so contrary to everything you knew, so opposite to the man you’d come love

“I’m sorry but- I think you’re wrong. There’s- there’s got to be more to this that I’m not understanding. It doesn’t- this doesn’t make any sense.” You’d mumbled, staring into space as though caught in a daze, certain you’d wake up from this dream sooner than later and laugh about it in the morning, though with every pitiful look the assistant director sent your way, you were worried this was one nightmare you wouldn’t be able to pinch yourself out of

“Hon, I really wish I was wrong too.” She said, rubbing what you’re sure she intended to be a soothing hand across your back, though everything felt too hot right now, too claustrophobic, and you were resisting the urge to flinch from her touch.

“You must be.” You practically whispered to yourself. It had been at least twenty minutes of this now, going back and forth in disbelief despite the paper trail before you

“What about that small chance that I’m not, though? What if this is what’s happening?” She added, pulling her hand back and angling herself to better face you, her expression still pinched into that look of pity and concern you wanted to smack off of her, despite knowing she was speaking with the best of intentions

“What? That he’s trying to trap me?! Has been from the beginning? There’s no way, nuh-uh.” You shook your head adamantly, refusing to believe that there was any possibility of something so ludicrous being true, of being your reality, your life

“Please just- just hear me out?” She all but pleaded, glancing towards the closed door as you heard the sound of laughter echoing down the hall, parents still filtering in and out, picking up their children like any other day, unaware of the drama unfolding in the office. “We always thought it was kind of strange at first that he wasn’t listed on her birth certificate when you submitted it with all your other paper work but- we really didn’t give it much more thought. Really didn’t think twice when he added himself to the list of contacts after you hadn’t put him down, because he told us you’d just forgotten to. I mean from the moment he walked in here he’s always called himself your husband, and you his wife, always claimed to be Rosie’s dad.”

At this point your eyes are squeezed shut, unable to differentiate between what you’re hearing and what you know to be true in your heart. Or at least, what your heart desperately wants to believe is true- your confidence slipping with every word she speaks

“And when he insisted a few months ago that 75% of Rosie’s daycare fees be charged directly to his account, we-”

“What?” You all but hiss at her, eyes snapping open in shock

“So you didn’t know about that either.” She mumbles, cheeks reddening in apparent embarrassment, whether for your or herself you’re unsure, though you’re certain you’re starting to see red the longer you sit here. “I mean, is it even all that surprising at this point? You just got done telling me he’s been trying to have you financially depend on him from the get go.”

“I said he’d offered to help me with the bills when we first started dating. Not that he tried to entrap me!” You bite back, unable to feel sorry yet that you’re being so short with her when this isn’t her fault, right now you need someone to be upset with, someone to take your feelings out on, and unfortunately she happens to be the unlucky messenger caught in the crossfire.

“I’m sure that’s how he made it sound, but hon, I’m just seeing red flag after red flag here. It starts with small ‘favours’ like that, then he’s telling you that you don’t have to work anymore, that you can rely on him. And asking you to move in so soon-”

“It- it isn’t ‘so soon’. We’re already practically living together, we- we’re in love. This- this isn’t- I don’t-” you cut off yourself off, unsure what you’d even say at this point. You can feel a headache coming on, your mind running a mile a minute, you wouldn’t be surprised to find steam coming off of you you’re feeling so heated. You’re beyond confused now, your heart knows that Simon’s never led you astray before, never give you a single reason to doubt him or think of him as dishonest. But you can’t ignore what you’re hearing either, as contrary as it might be to what you’ve known to be true, the facts are set out before you

“I know you love him.” She says softer this time, eyes trying to convey a comfort you don’t want right now. “But I can’t lie, I’m worried now. Like you said, this could all be some very strange misunderstanding. But from where I’m sitting babe, it seems like he’s been lying to you for months now, if not from the start. And the only reasons I can think of him doing that, aren’t very good ones.”

“I just don’t-” Your words are cut off when a knock rasps against the office door, both of you glancing over in time to see the door open.

“Hey Emma, Rosie’s mum hasn’t picked her up yet and I have to clean the room- oh! There you are!” One of Rosie’s educators says, stepping into the room with none other than your baby sat against her hip

You can feel the tension momentarily leave your body as Rosie spots you, her neutral expression turning into one of pure joy as she realizes her mama’s here, tiny arms reaching out towards you as she starts to flail in her teacher’s arms, sweet little coos erupting from her as she all but tries to leap towards you

“We were just chatting. Sorry to have kept you waiting with her. Hope she wasn’t too much trouble.” You say, standing from your chair and taking Rosie into your arms, feeling her lay her little head against you as she makes herself comfortable in your hold, a comfort you desperately need yourself right now

“Her? Trouble? Never. She had a great day today.” The teacher smiles politely, excusing herself to likely go finish her closing duties, certainly eager to get out of here now that you’ve got Rosie off her hands

“Maybe we could-”

“I’m gonna get this one home.” You cut Emma off before she can start, readjusting your hold on Rosie as you take a steadying breath. You want nothing more than to get out of here, to pretend that this never happened, though you aren’t sure you’re ready yet for what’s certainly about to happen at home. “Thanks for the chat. I’ll think about what you said and- I’ve got some talking to do with Simon now, I suppose.”

Perhaps by some small miracle, Simon ends up having to work late that night, shooting you a text to let you know that he’s sorry he won’t be home for supper and to please give Rosie a goodnight kiss from him if he isn’t back by her bedtime

You don’t reply to his message

You feel numb, as though this were something that was happening to someone else, a story you might overhear people whispering about while in line at the grocery store, or even an all too cheesy reality TV show storyline, certainly not something that’s happening in your home, to your family

You feel akin to a ghost, a spectre simply going through the motions as you float through the flat, following Rosie’s bedtime routine with nothing more than muscle memory to guide you from step A to B

She’s nodding off in your arms before you know it, blissfully unaware as to the turmoil happening in her mum’s mind, the fight that’s likely to ensue when her dad comes home, none the wiser as you lay her down in her crib for the night, a soft kiss planted on her forehead for Simon’s sake because as conflicted as you are, his love for her is undeniable

If anything, that’s the very thing that has you feeling so confused right now, is because you know Simon loves you, both you and Rosie, and so everything that’s just been revealed to you is so utterly contradicatory you can’t even begin to try and wrap your brain around it

He’s never been anything short of wonderful to you, willing to bend over backwards to make you smile from the very moment you met

The Simon you know wouldn’t lie to you, wouldn’t hide things from you, wouldn’t try to entrap you in any way like Emma or anyone else might try to insinuate

And yet…

Shutting her door quietly, you make your way down the hall, glancing at the piles of boxes that have only recently made a home for themselves along the walls of your flat

Moving boxes, the majority of them being from Simon’s own place across town that he hasn’t been to in months, as you prepare to move into the new house in the upcoming weeks

A house that you love, a house that you dreamt about, a house you can picture becoming a home, and yet still, a house he bought without asking you first, apparently a common trend

Plopping yourself down on the couch, rubbing furiously at your tired eyes as you try in vain to make sense of this conflicting situation

Because the Simon you know, isn’t capable of lying to you

The Simon you know has never once failed to fulfill a promise to you, never ceases to exceed your wildest dreams and expectations time and time again, always coming through for you in every way you’ve ever wanted and never knew you needed

The Simon you know is one who works harder than anyone you’ve ever met before, but didn’t hesitate for a split second to drop everything when Rosie had her first runny nose, fussing over her incessantly until you were both sure it was nothing more than a case of the sniffles

The Simon you know never lets you go through a late night feeding alone, getting up out of bed with you every single time her cries reach your ears, or sometimes insisting you stay asleep while he either goes to retrieve her for you or feeds her a premade bottle himself

The Simon you know doesn’t complain when the kitchen sink springs a leak after he’s had a long day at work, but rather angles Rosie’s high chair so she can see him working as he talks her through every step of the repair, teasing her about starting to pull her weight around he house as she giggles

The Simon you know pretends to grumble when you insist on applying sunscreen to his face on particularly sunny days, but secretly loves every second you spend so close him, fingers tracing his skin and taking care of him as delicately as you would with Rosie

The Simon you know shamelessly carries the diaper bag over his shoulder wherever you go, proudly wears Rosie on his chest in the baby sling any chance he gets, and most of all, never fails to hold your heart in his hand no matter how full they may already be

Tonight however? You can’t help the way your heart seemingly drops when you hear the telltale sound of keys at the front door

Simon is home

“Birdie?” His deep, Manchester accent calls out from around the corner. You’re hardly in control of your body as you rise to your feet and all but float towards him, torn between needing his comfort during such a confusing time, but equally fighting off the hurt and skepticism you’re beginning to feel

“Hi Si.” You meekly respond, coming into his view just as he’s toeing off his mud-caked boots, his eyes lighting up once he sees you

“Hi love.” He replies, stepping closer until you’re within his reach, naturally falling against his chest as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head, your eyes closing as you breathe in his scent. “Rosie asleep yet?”

“Put her down just a couple minutes ago.” You answer, arms snaking around his torso to embrace him tightly, unable to deny the hot tears beginning to prickle at the corner of your eyes.

“M’sorry I missed bedtime.”

“S’alright. Gave her your good night kiss for you. And I saved you supper. Just some chicken and salad but-”

“‘Jus’ chicken and salad’ is already more than I deserve for coming home late to my girls. Thank you, birdie.”

You know your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes when he pulls back to look at you, pulling yourself out of his hold to head towards the kitchen, his footsteps right behind yours

“How was your day? Not workin’ you too hard are they?” He asks, opening the fridge and pulling out the plate you’d saved for him

“No, work was fine.” You answer, awkwardly rubbing your arms as you lean against the wall, poking the edge of one of his moving boxes labeled simply as ‘stuff’ with your socked toes. “Actually, my day got kind of weird towards the end, if I’m being honest.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” Simon asks you, peering at you over his shoulder as he gets ready to reheat his food

“Well I uh- I went to pick up Rosie from nursery and wound up talking to Emma. You know, the assistant director?”

If you didn’t know Simon so well, didn’t know his mind and his body language like the back of your hand by now, you might have missed the oh so subtle way he tensed up for no more than a split second, his large frame perfectly still as he held his breath for no longer than a blink of the eye, but you saw it

“‘Course. How is she?” He asks as casually as he can, though he pointedly isn’t meeting your gaze anymore

“She’s fine. Busy as usual. But anyways, I got chatting with her in the first place because I was just letting her know about the move soon. Wanted to update our address.” You add, waving a hand towards the many boxes dotted around the place

“Ah, right. Smart o’ you to get a head start on tha’.” Simon chides in, still not looking at you as he goes about grabbing himself silverware and a drink, keeping his head down the whole time

“I thought so too.” You say, pushing yourself off the wall to step closer to him, feeling your heart begin to pick up pace as dare to say what you’re too afraid to confirm. “Also figured I would go ahead and update Rosie’s contact information, while I was at it. Was well overdue adding you.”

At this point Simon has stopped moving entirely, his back turned to you as he faces the kitchen sink, not a word to be said as you continue

“But then she told me that you were already on there.”

Nearly a full five seconds pass by in complete and utter silence, before Simon slowly spins himself around to face you

“Oh.” Is all he can apparently manage to say at first, his face pulled into an expression you aren’t overly familiar with, eyes glancing everywhere but at your face. “Did you somehow add me and forget?”

“That’s what I thought at first too.” You elaborate, wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt, despite knowing that there isn’t a logical explanation for the second half of what you’re about to say. “But it was strange because she told me that she remembers having a conversation with you, after our first visit. Said that you were the one to add yourself.”

Again, Simon seems to forfeit to what he knows best in moments of high stress, a painful silence that echoes louder than any shouts ever could

“Things got really strange though, the more she told me. Like how you’ve been paying the daycare bills behind my back.”

“Love, I-”

“What was she talking about, Simon? Please tell me she was wrong.” You interrupt him, feeling your cheeks begins to burn with untamed emotions you haven’t dared to let out yet, the stinging at your lash line growing stronger as hot tears threaten to topple over

“No. She wasn’t wrong, but-”

“What?” You interrupt him, trying your best to keep your volume low for Rosie’s sake, though you can tell your emotions are already starting to get the better of you

“Look birdie, I- I’m not ready to talk about this yet. Let’s leave it alone for tonight, yeah?” Simon says as coolly as he can manage, though you notice the way his jaw ticks, how he runs his hand through his short hair as he only does when frustrated

“What the hell does that mean? You’re not ready to talk about what? Simon what is going on here?” You ask him, feeling yourself becoming light headed as the conversation takes the turn you were fearing it would, his words failing to reassure the uncertainty brewing within you

“Love it’s not- there isn’t anythin’ going on. I’m only jus’ trying to take care of you. So please, let’s just leave it.”

“No, Si. I can’t just ‘leave it’. Not when I’m finding out that you’ve been lying to me for who knows how long!” You insist, reaching behind you until you feel a stack of the moving boxes hit your calf, sitting down on the large box as you look up at Simon across the room. “What am I supposed to-”

“I said enough! Just drop it, please birdie. It’s nothin’.” He snaps at you, going to slam a hand down on the kitchen counter but catching himself at the last second, glancing down the hall towards Rosie’s closed door as he shakes his head to himself

“No! I’m not just going to drop this, Simon. How am I meant to know that you haven’t hidden anything else from me?”

“Oh, because you don’t hide anythin’?” He asks, stepping closer to you while trying to keep his voice down, lest you both wake the baby up

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Christs sake, I’m talkin’ ’bout Rosie’s father. What else would we be talkin’ ‘bout?” He admits, throwing his hands up in the air in defeat, coming to sit on the boxes across from you

“Are you kidding me?” You ask, narrowing your eyes at him. “We’ve gone over this before, it was a fucking one night stand Simon! Rosie doesn’t have a father, because I don’t know who her fucking father is! Is that what you want to hear? That I dont know the stranger who knocked me up after sleeping with him one goddamn time?”

“I don’t know what happened because we never talk bout it!” He replies, one foot incessantly tapping agains the tiled floor as he struggles to keep his cool. “There’s some bloke out there who could show up one day and take everythin’ I’ve worked for, so bloody fuckin’ right I’m concerned! How could you not know who he is? Might not know his name, but you could pick him out of a lineup surely? Describe him?”

“Are you seriously that insecure right now? You’re feeling threatened by a ghost? Because that’s all he was Simon, was a fucking ghost! It was a goddamn Halloween party. Every single person in that was wearing a mask, including me!” You argue back to him. “You want me to try and describe some tall guy wearing all black and a stupid skull mask? Is that it? How he didn’t even take it off while we were having sex? How he only wanted me to call him Ghost the entire goddamn night? What does it matter, Simon?“

By the end of your rant, you’re left huffing and puffing, borderline seeing red as you can’t believe of all things, this is what Simon would feel the need to bring up at a time like this

You’re expecting him to argue back, waiting on him to retaliate with whatever other ugly words you’re going to throw at each other tonight, the first proper fight you’ve ever had

And yet, he’s sat perfectly still, eyes locked on your own though it’s as if he isn’t quite seeing you

Rather, he looks like he’s seen a ghost

“Simon?”

He remembers that night almost too perfectly

Exactly half a year since his forced retirement, Simon was all too eager to get through the last of his ‘highly recommended’ therapy sessions

The older gentleman he met with once a month wasn’t all that bad, to his credit, had some decent stories to share and never pressed Simon to fill in the silence when he wasn’t in the mood to do so

But he was still a shrink at the end of the day, wasn’t he? Still wanted the former Lieutenant to talk about his feelings and his past and his thoughts and his nightmares and just about everything Simon would rather keep under heavily guarded lock and key

Even if he never insisted on making Simon spill his guts the way he might have imagined a shrink was obligated to do in their mandated fifty minute sessions, he’d still somehow managed to get the younger man to open up to the smallest degree, learned as much as he was willing to share within these bleak walls

Though he held no ill feelings towards him nor his profession, Simon couldn’t help but glance at the clock above the shrink’s head at least every other minute, looking forward to having his Saturday afternoons back to himself soon as this last appointment was done and over with

“Simon?” He remembers the old man saying, catching his wandering eye. “Did you hear me?”

“Sorry. Go on.” The muscular man had said, crossing his arms across his chest as he’d fought to give the man before him his full attention.

“I was only just saying,” he kindly went on, a soft smile appearing below his white moustache. “If if was something you might be open to exploring, I don’t think it would be the worst idea if you wanted to wear the mask out in public again. One last time.”

“Why would I do tha’?” Simon had questioned.

“Please correct me if I’m wrong, but you’ve spoken before about feeling conflicted between who you used to be six months ago, and who you’re having to become now post-retirement. A man with a name and a job and obligations. Whereas for over a decade, you were certain you’d never be anything more than this Ghost fellow you’ve mentioned. This man without a name, without a face. Am I right on this?”

“Suppose so.” He grumbled, shifting in his spot, the softness of the cushions around him a mundane luxury he was still growing used to feeling.

“You’ve also said that the honourable discharge came as a bit of a surprise, an unexpected end to this Ghost, as it were. Something, or someone, you never had the chance to truly mourn.” The shrink had gone on, gesticulating his pale, wrinkled hands with every word he spoke in Simon’s direction.

On his end, Simon could only manage to nod in response, taking in the man’s perspective

“The mask was something pivotal for you, something you held on to without fail for years, Simon. Years. It’s understandably difficult to be told you would no longer going to need this thing you had grown to, dare I say, depend on? Something that kept you separate from the rest of the world? A world you were being thrown back into without a choice?”

The older man had allowed for a beat of silence as Simon absorbed his words, only keeping his eyes on him as any indication now that he was still listening

“Now, I know you’d said that you haven’t put the mask back on since. We also evidently can’t replicate the sort of environment that Ghost used to live in. But if you wanted to put the mask back on for one night. If you wanted to put the mask back on for just a moment and perhaps allow yourself to make peace with this change in your life, to say goodbye to Ghost and give yourself the chance to fully become Simon, well, tonight might not be the worst night to try and do so.”

As if he needed his own shrink reminding him that it was Halloween that night

He remembers the odd few pumpkins lined up outside the apartments he’d passed on his walk home from the session

Remembers the posters for discounted costumes and reminders to check your children’s candy dotted along brick walls here and there

Hell he’d even had a group of giggling trick or treaters run past him at one point that evening

Staring at the handful of boxes he still couldn’t bring himself to unpack yet, Simon sat ins his flat entirely too long that night with a drink in hand, staring at the very one he knew held the thing he woulnd’t have been caught dead without less than a yer ago, now ruffed between some folded shirts

The more drinks he got in his system, the less ludicrous the doc’s idea had sounded to him

Perhaps he should don the mask one last time, if only to see what it felt like to have his second skin back on him again, to be Ghost for only just a moment more

He had been tearing the cardboard box open before he knew it, ripping through clothing until his hands met the familiar feeling of the skull beneath his fingertips

He hadn’t bothered looking in a mirror or anything dramatic of the sort as he slipped the material over his head, not feeling the need to glance at the face he once relished in knowing was the last one countless had ever seen in their lives

Unsure of how he felt but knowing he didn’t want to sit still, Simon had gone back out onto the streets, the sun having set long ago and trick or treaters certainly tucked into bed by now with lollipop coloured tongues and wrappers awry

He knew he wanted to keep drinking that night, seeing as it was the only way he could fall asleep most nights, and needn’t go very far before following the noise of the nearest pub, only just around the corner from his measly flat

Though the place had been crowded that night, packed with the young and old all dressed in differing levels to commitment to their costumes, Simon was pleased to see he could still part a crowd with ease as he’d slunk his way over to the busy bar

The music had been damn near defeaning, and the heat from all the dancing bodies was poignant, his senses kicking into overdrive as he fought the urge to turn hightail and head back to the solace of his empty four walls

The barkeep hadn’t even bat an eye at Ghost’s appearance as he’d made his way over and took his order, making haste to keep up with the demanding crowd

What had the doc said, again? That he ought to be taking this time to say goodbye to Ghost and welcome in Simon?

Pure rubbish, as far as he was concerned

He would always be Ghost in a way, wouldn’t he? Mask or not, his hands would still be stained with someone’s blood, his eyes will still be ones that witnessed death for a living, his heart would still beat to a broken drum, he would always be a ghost of a man on way or another

And so, no, he likely would not have said goodbye to Ghost that night, had he had much of a chance to continue thinking about it

But then again, fate has a way of making things fall into place right when they need to, doesn’t it?

For Simon had only just received his drink when a young woman had suddenly come crashing into his side, her hands unabashedly coming to grasp onto his bicep as she leaned her weight into him

“There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” She’d said, loud enough to be heard over the music, glancing not at Ghost, but rather at someone who’d come to stand just behind him

Prepared to swing around in his seat and size up the person behind him, Simon’s eyes had gotten caught halfway there, when they landed on the stranger holding onto him

Donned in a flowing white dress with long billowing sleeves, a single red rose tucked behind her ear to match the red painted across her enticing lips, Simon was surprised to find an almost perfect Christine from the Phantom of the Opera stood before him, though perhaps more so that the young woman was also wearing the Phantom’s half mask across her face

“You’re expecting me to believe that this is your boyfriend?” A gruff voice had spoken out from the din of the crowd, Simon’s gazing finally landing on a poor imitation of a superhero, the lad clearly wasted on one too many drinks as he tried stepping closer to the mystery woman

Simon’s gaze had fixed back upon the woman’s face, eyes locking for the first time that night, the music in the room suddenly no longer so intolerable, nor the heat so unbearable, not when she was looking at him like that

Simon was smart enough to catch onto what was going on here in time to step in, cutting into the man’s attempt to squeeze closer to the young lady still clinging to Simon’s arm, his tall stature alone enough to have the bloke taking a step back

“Husband. Actually.” Ghost had decided to clarify for him, slinking an arm around your shoulders and ignoring the spark he felt as he did so, blaming the drinks he’d had himself. “Best move on to the next one, mate. She’s taken.”

Luckily, the lad apparently still had enough common sense, or at least self preseration instincts, to know when it was time to back off, moving back through the crowd with his head hung low, not that either of you were still looking at him, instead turning to face one another again

“Jesus, he’s been hounding me all night, wouldn’t take no for an answer, but you say all of ten words to him and he’s over it? Ugh, men I swear.” You’d said, leaning your elbows against the bar top as you went to wave down the barkeep, before catching Simon’s eye again and sending him a playful smile

“Funny way to say thank you.” He’d said, ignoring the way the genuine widening of your smile at his words had sent a jolt through his heart

“Hey, I was getting there.” You had laughed, the sound barely making its way to his ears through the noise of the crowd, but even just the whisper of it has him unconsciously stepping closer to you. “Would a drink be enough to repay for you saving me?”

Simon had glanced back over his shoulder, the tosser nowhere to be seen amongst the flashing lights and ever moving mass of bodies strolling and dancing about

You’d been nearly blinding to him in the darkness of the bar that night, your pale dress and startlingly white mask illuminated by the moving lights, the fog of his drinks already catching up to him, you were an image to behold nonetheless

It’d been a long, long time since Simon had had a girl in his bed, let alone a bird as pretty as you, but Ghost however? If he was lucky tonight, he might be able to get you to come back home with him, and then never see you again when he took the mask off in the morning

“Only if you’ll have one with me.” He’d replied, watching as you lifted a single brow in amusement. “Got to keep up the appearance that we’re here together now, haven’t we?”

“Hmm, suppose so.” You’d agreed easily, hopping up onto the barstool next to him as it freed up, the blush on your cheeks apparent when he’d reached his muscular arm behind you to drag the stool closer. “So, what’s my knight in shining armour’s name, then?”

“Call me Ghost.”

Muahahaha

I’ve been dropping hints in the chapters for a while now, and quite a few of you have guessed it, but yes, it seems Simon might know the baby daddy better than he thinks he does

As an almost strictly fluff writer, the angst in this one was so tough to write! Luckily next chapter will be filled with lots of fluff and smut to make up for the fight

- M 🫶🏻

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[seaofreverie]

TWO WEEKS LEFT my dudes.

[awakebutstillinbedd]

pervert!markgrayson x fem!reader

cw: stalking, masturbation, perverting.

a/n: mark is super nasty in this one and i could’ve written more but i didn’t wanna gross yall out <3

mark would always get turned on by nearly everything you did. whether it was the small windows of skin whenever you wore jeans with the smallest rips or the way you spoke to him with such kindness, he always went home and got off to it. you could hit him on his back with the utmost force and he would still be biting his lip. even when you were out with your friends in a dress that seemed even a little too skimpy he would fly over in secret to see you in it in person. you never knew he was there though.

he always had something for you, but forever he figured you saw him as dorky and uncool. the both of you weren’t exactly friends, but more like acquaintances. it ate at him every night, especially when he fought his urges not to spy on you in your bedroom like a creep. there’s so many things wrong with this but one unforgiving night he finds himself floating at your window and peeking in on you getting dressed. of course he knows the right thing to do is go home but is that what he wants to do?

mark is bewildered at the sight of your bare skin. you’ve got him covering his face in embarrassment for even looking. like the pervert he is, he peeks through his fingers to look at you once more. if you can believe it, he’s using every bone in his body not to palm at his tightening pants. the leaky beads of pre cum made a wet spot develop in his pants, mark felt disgusting but he really couldn’t help it. the poor thing. his breath hitched as he abandoned his thoughts and began palming at the bulge in his pants, you’re all he thought about. he couldn’t even cum if he wasn’t thinking about you.

somehow, he never gets caught. he flies off before you turn around to look out of your window like you always do every night.

mark lays in his bed, his thoughts going crazy with the bulge in his pants now freed. his cock twitches aggressively and it’s all for you, he might’ve even stolen a pair of your panties while you weren’t home. he held it up to his nose, feeling on the cotton as he wrapped his hand around the base of his cock. every time he did this he always whimpered your name in sweet short breaths, he was so sensitive, so inexperienced but he forever wishes his hand was your mouth.

it even getting to the point he came in the same pair he stole from you over and over again. sure he washed it, but whenever he finished he thought about how he would love for it to be either in you or all over you. whenever he teased his tip, thinking about you talking him through his orgasm he felt so so dirty but thats the thrill and he knew that more than anybody.

small gestures like you getting him something small to eat just because he was at your job. of course he wouldn’t just come there for you, he was super hungry!—is what he always told himself. getting turned on seeing you at work, so independent. you always took charge as well, he just wished you’d take charge of him and publicly humiliate him

oh what brave decision mark makes to invite you over to his house to study for your finals. with you sitting on his bed he couldn’t help himself, you were in his room and on his bed. it felt like a dream come true for him, you never suspected that he stole your undergarments or had a shoebox full of pictures of you in his closet. he kept all of this under wraps, he always pretended he wasn’t dying to dry hump the spot you were sitting at on his bed but he always ends up doing it. so, so warm and it smelled exactly like you, if this was the closest he would ever get to having his cock anywhere near you he would absolutely take that chance.

mark whimpers your name constantly when he masturbates. pumping his cock to a regular picture of you while humping that spot on his bed.

“f-fuck..”

he couldn’t help but bite his fist every time he came thinking about you, to the point his fist was bloody. he was just a boy is what you told yourself, and him always wanting to talk to you was just that grayson charm! you never knew anything he was doing and he wasn’t planning on telling you.

within a few months you guys are actually friends, he somehow doesn’t fuck it up. you guys are regularly going out to eat and hanging out. everything is great but his obsession had only gotten worse. your actual clothes end up going missing every single time you leave the house, he stole shirts, pants, hoodies and even your toothbrush. when you’re on the phone with him telling him about your problems he’s on the other end palming at his bulge.

mark suddenly pauses when you talk about your clothes going missing and even a toothbrush. he stammers over the phone

“oh yeah that’s..really really weird!”

he’s such a fake, it kills him whenever you even talk to him about anything that might’ve gone missing because he knows it was him. he had never done or been like this with any other girl but you? you really made him act like a fucking dog every time you even crossed his mind.

mark would even watch you sleep sometimes. standing over you in your room, admiring how you looked unconscious. the one time he was pure was this, he didn’t touch you or even masturbate over you he just observed. staring, nearly drooling at the sight of your bare shoulder when your shirt slipped off of it. he really couldn’t control himself when he saw your brows scrunch and you started groaning in your sleep, he could see the pleasure of whatever you were dreaming about (hoping it was him) forming a wet dark spot on your panties. if you can believe it, he took a deep breath and quickly left out of your window. this unhealthy obsession had been going on for nearly 2 years and you were completely oblivious.

hes SO not a creep, he just loves you so much

part 2

[afterheese]

That Uneasy Feeling - Sim Jaeyun x F!Reader

He was your boyfriend’s best friend—meaning avoiding him was impossible. Wherever Sunghoon went, Jake followed. So when Jake moved in after his breakup, you smiled politely… even as he made your skin crawl.

cw: dark!jake, noncon, hair pulling, degradation, creampie, lots of dirty talk and physical violence.

word count : 4.5k

This was requested.

You always felt uneasy around Jake.

Not in the overt, scream-and-run kind of way..no not like that, it was subtler than that. Insidious. Like the way a locked door rattling in the wind feels terrifying at night. Jake never said anything outright. He didn’t do anything that could be pointed to and named. But he had a way about him. A stare too long, a smile too slow, and always a laugh like he was in on a joke you didn’t get.

He was your boyfriend’s best friend. Which meant avoiding him wasn’t just hard—it was impossible.

Where Sunghoon went, Jake followed. They'd been tight since high school, the kind of bond that lived on inside-jokes and loyalty forged through years of chaos. So when Sunghoon said Jake was crashing with him “for a while” after his breakup, you had to smile and nod—even though something about Jake always made your skin itch beneath your clothes.

Maybe it was the way he talked to you. Like you were a little girl who needed things explained. “You wouldn’t understand,” he’d say, brushing off your thoughts with a smirk, like he was being playful. Only it didn’t feel playful. It felt like being pushed into a corner while he grinned and waited for you to break.

Or maybe it was the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t watching. You’d catch his eyes on you across the room, pinned to you like a wolf eyeing a rabbit not with hunger, exactly, but something more disturbing. Like you were something fragile he was just waiting to crack open and ruin.

Still, you told yourself it was in your head. Because Jake was charming. God, was he charming. To everyone else, he was the golden boy handsome, funny and magnetic. That perfect blend of street-smart confidence and wounded vulnerability that made people trust him even when they shouldn’t. Sunghoon worshipped him. Your friends liked him. Even your dad said, “Now that’s a guy who knows how to take care of himself.”

But behind his smile, Jake was all sharp teeth.

It had started small. Off-hand comments. Too-long hugs. That night he stood a little too close in the kitchen, his hand brushing your hip just a second too long. You wanted to say something to Sunghoon, but how could you explain it without sounding paranoid? Jake’s just friendly, babe, Sunghoon would probably say. You’re overthinking it.

Except you weren’t. Something was wrong with Jake.

And last week, you were alone with him for just twenty minutes while Sunghoon ran out for beer. Twenty minutes, and Jake barely spoke he just sat there on the couch, flipping a lighter open and closed, open and closed. But he watched you the entire time, smiling.

And that smile hasn’t left your memory since.

Because it wasn’t friendly. It wasn’t even flirtatious.

It was scary.

"I'm so sorry, babe. I got this last-minute gig in Japan for a photo shoot—and I have to leave tonight," Sunghoon said, voice breathless with excitement, his hands gripping yours like a boy with good news and no idea what it costs.

You blinked. "Tonight?"

He winced with a soft laugh, that apologetic smile of his that always worked on you. "I know, I know, it’s crazy. But it’s big. Like, Vogue Asia big."

You should’ve smiled wider. Should’ve jumped and kissed him and squealed like a supportive girlfriend does when her boyfriend’s dreams are coming true. And you did smile just enough. You hugged him tight, felt the beating rush of his heart through his chest. You buried the flicker of unease in the soft cotton of his shirt.

Because there was no way you could say what you were really thinking. That being alone here... with Jake... made your stomach twist in slow, cold knots. "That’s amazing," you said, voice low into his ear, forcing the words through a throat that felt too tight. "Really. Go kill it. You’ll be amazing."

Sunghoon leaned back, grinning, touching your cheek. His eyes were soft, full of love and ambition, and so oblivious. Then you pulled away from the hug—and saw him.

Jake.

Standing at the kitchen doorway. Watching.

You didn't know how long he had been there. His arms were crossed over his chest, the low light casting sharp lines down the side of his face. That damn lighter of his just flipping open, click, closed again then resting in his palm. His eyes didn’t move, didn’t blink. Just pinned you where you stood like you were something caught in the light.

You felt your body stiffen before your mind could react. The air changed. He didn’t say a word. Just looked. That same stare you hated. That quiet, crawling tension that made your skin feel too tight, your breath too shallow. That same sick little smirk, just barely curled at the edge of his mouth.

"Japan, huh?" Jake said at last, slow and smooth, like dragging a knife across velvet. Sunghoon didn’t notice the tone. He turned to his friend, clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Crazy, right? You're gonna have to keep an eye on her for me." Jake’s gaze never left you. "Wouldn’t dream of doing anything else."

There was something about the way he said it. The way his eyes lingered. The way you suddenly felt cold, like the house was no longer yours. Sunghoon laughed. "Don’t look so worried, babe. Jake’s got you." You smiled. One that didn’t reach your eyes.

But inside, you felt a slow scream building. Because tonight, Sunghoon was flying to japan. 

And you’re stuck in this house alone with Jake.

"Call me when you land, babe," you said, brushing your fingers through Sunghoon’s hair as he pulled you in for one last hug. "I will," he promised, smiling, and you kissed his cheek—soft and lingering—trying to press all your fear into that one gesture, hoping he’d feel it, see it, ask.

But he didn’t. He turned to Jake instead,“Keep her safe for me, yeah?" Jake’s eyes flicked toward you, slow and unreadable. “I’ll try,” he said. You watched Sunghoon laugh, slap Jake on the back, grab his bag and vanish out the front door with the same lightness he always carried. 

The door clicked shut. A final, casual sound. And then the silence came. A slow, awful silence that crawled over the walls like mold. You didn’t look at Jake. You turned on your heel the moment Sunghoon was gone and walked—fast—down the hall. Every step felt like it echoed too loud. You didn’t run. You didn’t want to show anything. But your hands were already cold.

Your bedroom door clicked shut behind you. You locked it. Not just the knob—you slid the chain bolt, too. You stood there, forehead resting against the wood, listening. Nothing.

The hallway creaked. The house felt like it was breathing wrong. You backed away and sat on the edge of your bed, phone in hand, but you didn’t text Sunghoon. You couldn’t. What would you say?

“I’m scared of your best friend?”

He’d tell you to talk to Jake. He’d tell you it’s just your imagination. He trusted Jake. But trust was dangerous. Especially when it was misplaced. Your eyes moved to the window. First-floor. You could leave. Go to a friend’s. Say you weren’t feeling well, or your mom needed you—something. Anything to not be here. Not alone with him.

But then came the sound. Tap. A soft knock on your bedroom door. “Hey,” Jake’s voice came through “Everything okay?” You didn’t answer. A pause. “You don’t have to lock the door, you know.” Your heart climbed into your throat. You still said nothing.

Jake gave a soft laugh. No amusement in it. Just that same low, grating undertone that made your skin crawl. “I’m not a bad guy,” he said. Another knock. Gentler this time. Almost coaxing. "Unless you want me to be."

You stood from the bed, moving backward toward your desk, pulse thudding in your ears. Your phone was trembling in your hand now. You glanced down at it. No signal. You didn’t remember it going out. But there it was.

No Service.

Another knock. Slower this time. "You know," Jake continued, "it’s just us now. No need to keep pretending." You looked to the window again. It wasn’t a question of if you were leaving. It was how fast.

You backed farther into the room, one hand still gripping your phone uselessly while your other instinctively checked the window latch. “C’mon,” Jake’s voice slid under the door like smoke, “don’t be like that. You’re making it weird.” You didn’t answer. You were too focused on how fast you could yank open that window.

Then came the click. The doorknob. You spun around. He was trying to get him. Softly at first. Testing. Like maybe you’d changed your mind. Like maybe this was a joke between friends. Then—Rattle.Harder. Rattle-rattle-rattle.

"Okay," Jake said, voice dropping now, quieter—but heavier. “You wanna do this the hard way?” Your pulse hit your throat like a hammer. You lunged for the window, unlocked it, shoved it upward. It screeched in protest.

“OPEN THE DOOR!” he shouted suddenly, his voice exploding through the hallway. You gasped. Fumbling with the fucking screen. Yanking it free with a horrible plastic crunch and threw it across the room. He slammed into the door. BOOM. The entire frame shook. "Don’t run from me!" Jake bellowed from the other side. “You don’t have to run!”

Another BOOM. A crack now—wood splintering. The chain bolt was holding, barely. The cheap bedroom door whined.

Every second felt too long.

Jake slammed into the door again. The chain bolt rattled in its socket, groaning under the pressure. "Come on," he snarled through the crack in the door. "Don’t make this ugly." Cold air met your face, and for a split second, you thought you were going to make it.

Then—CRACK. The chain bolt tore from the wall. The door flew open behind you, slamming into the drywall. You got one leg through the window. Then fingers—hot, fast, and furious—clamped around your ankle like a bear trap. “No!” Jake barked behind you. "Don’t you dare." You screamed, twisting, your bare foot kicking at nothing, at air, at him—but he held on, hard, digging his fingers into your skin like he wanted to snap it.

He yanked. You slipped back into the room, your chest slamming into the window frame with a bone-rattling thud. The wind knocked out of you. One leg still dangling out into the night. One pulled back into the dark. "Get OFF me!" you shrieked, kicking again, heel smashing wildly toward his face. He grunted, then lunged, grabbing your thigh now, wrapping both arms around your waist like a python.

"You think you can run from me?" he hissed into your ear. “You think that little window was gonna save you?” His breath was hot and right next to your face now. You could feel the heat of his skin on your back, the tremble in his grip—not from weakness but from restraint. Barely held-back madness. His heart pounded like a war drum against your spine. “I didn’t want it to go like this,” he whispered, dragging you away from the sill, your nails scraping uselessly across the hardwood. “But you just had to play hard to get, didn’t you?”

Your fingers clutched at the rug, trying to grab anything. You kicked, fought, clawed—but he was stronger. So much stronger than he looked. He pulled you farther from the window like you were nothing. Like a doll. “Let me GO!” you screamed, twisting, your elbow striking out blindly. You felt the connection your arm slammed into something solid—his cheek? His temple?

Jake reeled back, howling, and his grip loosened just long enough for you to scrambled forward. Not out the window—no time. No second chance. You made a break for the door. Bare feet slapping against wood. No thoughts left. Just escaping. You hit the hallway.

Behind you, Jake’s voice wasn’t yelling anymore. It was laughing. “You can run,” he called. “But you’re already mine.” Your feet hit the hallway floor like gunshots, every step a breath closer to freedom, to a door, a weapon—anything. You darted down the narrow hall, every picture frame on the wall blurring past you, your heart pounding so hard it felt like your ribs burst open.

Jake wasn’t running. He stalked. Like he knew you weren’t going anywhere. You veered toward the living room. The front door was there—locked, maybe—but a lock could be broken. You could scream through the windows. Draw attention. A shadow swept across the wall ahead of you.

You turned too late. Jake was already there. You barely had time to shriek before his arm slammed into your side like a battering ram. You were airborne for a second—then your body crashed down across the couch. Pain shot up your spine. The cushions collapsed beneath you, the wind knocked from your lungs. You gasped, clawing to roll off—but before you could even breathe, Jake moved.

He stepped around the couch like he had all the time in the world. And then his fingers twisted into your hair hard. You cried out, arms scrambling for purchase as he yanked your head back, forcing you down, bending you forward over the backrest. The room spun. His grip was like iron, knuckles grinding against your scalp. "You really thought you could get away from me?" he whispered against your ear, breathing heavy not with effort, but excitement. “I told you… I’m not the bad guy here.”

He leaned in closer. "You're the one who locked the door." You tried to speak, to plead, but your voice was just ragged noise. His other hand grabbed your wrist and twisted it behind your back, forcing your chest against the couch, pinning you like prey. “You should’ve just opened the door,” he murmured. “Could’ve been nice.” He paused. His lips ghosted near your temple. You could hear the shift in his breath.

“I can still be nice…” But it was a lie. You could feel it in his grip. In the shaking tremor beneath his. Your eyes flicked again to the fireplace. The poker. Jake’s hand pressed harder against the small of your back, forcing your body further over the couch, locking your spine in place like a hinge about to snap. But he made a mistake—just for a second. He shifted his weight.

You exploded into movement. Your leg shot backward, kicking wildly. Your free hand reached out—scraping against the couch, the floor, then cold iron. The poker. You closed your fingers around it. Jake saw. He snarled like an animal, releasing your wrist to grab at your arm, but you swung the poker blind, with everything you had. Metal met something solid—a shoulder, maybe his ribs—and Jake let out a sharp, surprised grunt.

You ripped yourself free, stumbling forward off the couch, half-falling, half-diving toward the hallway again. But Jake was faster. He caught you mid-sprint—arms wrapping around your waist like a vise. He lifted you off the floor, dragging you back, the poker slipping from your grasp and clattering uselessly to the hardwood. "No, no, no—you don’t get to do that!" he growled in your ear.

He threw you down. Your back slammed into the floor beside the coffee table, the pain blooming bright and hot. You tried to crawl, to kick, to do anything—But Jake was already on top of you, straddling your waist, both wrists pinned beneath his knees. His face hovered inches from yours now. The mask of charm had vanished.

This was something else. His expression was twisted, not with rage—but pleasure. The satisfaction of having you exactly where he wanted you. Of winning. "You put up a good fight," he whispered, his voice raw and low. “I love it when they do that.” You thrashed again, but he didn’t even flinch. His hands slid from your wrists to your face, cupping your cheeks with mock gentleness. "You’re scared," he said, like it was something sweet.

You turned your head, spitting at him. It landed just below his jaw. His eyes darkened. The hand that had cupped your cheek struck you—fast. Pain bloomed across your cheek. Your ears rang. Jake leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours, breath hot, and said:

“I was trying to be nice.”

Then he smiled. He grabbed you roughly by the hair, yanking your head back as he flung you over the couch. You landed hard on your back, the wind knocked out of your lungs. Before you could catch your breath, he was on top of you, straddling your hips and pinning your wrists above your head with his strong hands.

His face hovered inches from yours, the mask of charm completely vanished, replaced by a twisted expression of pleasure and dark satisfaction. "You fight dirty," he whispered, his voice raw and low. "I like that."

You thrashed beneath him, trying to buck him off, but Jake didn't even flinch. His hands slid from your wrists to your face, cupping your cheeks with mock gentleness that belied the cruelty in his eyes.

"You're scared," he said, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. "I can see it in your eyes. But you're also turned on, aren't you? I can feel it in the way your body responds to mine."

To prove his point, Jake ground his hips against yours, letting you feel the thick, hard length of him straining against his pants. His thumb brushed over your lower lip before he leaned in, capturing your mouth in a brutal, dominating kiss. His tongue forced its way inside, claiming your mouth.

Jake's lips trailed down your jaw to your neck where he bit and sucked at the sensitive skin, no doubt leaving marks. "I'm going to ruin you," he growled against your throat. "Gonna fuck this tight little pussy so hard, you'll forget your own name. The only thing you'll remember is the feeling of my cock splitting you open, filling you up completely."

Jake's hand slid from your breast down to the waistband of your pants. With a wicked grin, he ripped them off you, not bothering with buttons or zippers, just tearing the fabric until he could expose your most intimate places to his hungry gaze.

"Fuck, look at this pretty little pussy," he growled, fingers trailing through your slick folds. "So wet and ready for me already. You can't deny how much you want this."

He pushed two fingers deep inside your tight heat, pumping them in and out as he used his thumb to rub firm circles around your aching clit. Jake leaned down, his hot breath ghosting over your ear as he whispered filthily:

"I'm going to destroy this pussy. Ruin it for anyone else. You'll be my personal slut, always ready and eager for my cock. I'll use you whenever and however I want."

To punctuate his words, Jake thrust his fingers harder, faster, curling them just right to hit that sensitive spot deep inside you. His mouth found your nipple, biting down hard enough to make you cry out before soothing the sting with his tongue.

"Such a good little cock sleeve, so tight and responsive," he purred, switching to your other breast to give it the same treatment. "I bet you've dreamed about this, haven't you? Being at the mercy of a man, completely under my control as I fuck you raw?"

Jake's hand left your breast to fumble with his belt, quickly unlatching it and shoving his pants and boxers down just enough to free his large, thick cock. It slapped against his stomach.

"Beg for it," he commanded, the head of his cock nudging at your entrance teasingly. "Beg me to fuck this needy pussy. Let me hear how much you want it." His eyes blazed into yours, a dark and dominant force that demanded submission. "Now."

“Jake… I-I’m begging you… please stop this…” you whispered, eyes wide, body trembling beneath him, voice barely hanging together. But he only laughed—low, cruel, and unbothered. “Nah, baby,” he murmured, leaning in close, his breath hot against your ear. “You were made to be used.”

"Fuck, your pussy is so tight," he groaned as he pushed forward, not stopping until he was buried to the hilt inside you. "Such a perfect fit for my cock."

He started to move, pulling out slowly before slamming back in, setting a brutal pace from the start. The couch creaked beneath you with the force of his thrusts, the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

"Take it, you dirty slut," Jake snarled, one hand gripping your hip hard enough to bruise while the other found your clit, rubbing it in tight circles. "Take my fucking cock like you were made for it. This is what you needed, isn't it? To be split open, right?"

He leaned down to capture your mouth in a messy, dominating kiss, all teeth and tongue as he fucked into you harder, deeper. His hips snapped against yours, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix with each powerful thrust.

"Gonna...fuck...fill this cunt with my cum," Jake grunted between clenched teeth, sweat dripping down his face from the exertion. "Pump you so full of it, you'll be dripping for days. Everyone will know you're my personal whore."

His fingers dug into the meat of your ass, pulling you harder against him as he rutted into you like an animal in heat. The obscene wet sounds of your coupling filled the air, joined by Jake's filthy words and your desperate cries.

"Fuck, I can feel you squeezing me, you cock-hungry whore," he panted harshly, increasing his pace even more. "Gonna make you fucking cum on my cock, scream my name while I ruin this pussy. Let everyone know who this pussy belongs to now."

“N-No… g-get the fuck… off me…” you choked out, the words shaking, barely holding together—half sob, half breath. But Jake didn’t even flinch. He didn’t pause. He just kept moving, like he hadn’t heard a single word… or like he didn’t care. 

Jake angled his hips, making sure to grind against your clit with each thrust. He could feel your walls starting to flutter around him, knowing you were close. His own release was fast approaching.

"Come on, slut, cum for me," Jake demanded, his voice a low, dominant growl. "I want to feel this pussy milking my cock as I fill it with my seed. Show me what a desperate, cock-craving whore you are."

He punctuated his command with a particularly hard thrust, grinding his pelvis against your clit as he bottomed out inside you. The intense stimulation sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, pushing you closer to the edge. “P-Please, Jake… s-stop… I-I can’t take anymore…” you try to say but he wasn’t listening.

Jake could feel your walls starting to quiver and clench around his pistoning cock, your body instinctively trying to draw him deeper. He smirked down at you, eyes dark with lust and triumph. "That's it, fucking take it. Take every inch of my cock like the needy little slut you are."

His fingers moved from your clit to your nipple, pinching and tugging on the hardened peak roughly as he continued his relentless assault on your pussy. The mix of pleasure and pain only heightened your arousal. “Why—Jake, why are you doing this? P-Please stop…” you tried again, but the word “stop” was just a shiver of breath, almost nothing.

"I needed to...ungh...fucking breed this cunt," Jake grunted, his rhythm growing erratic as his own release approached. "Pump you so full of my cum, you'll be dripping with it."

“N-no… Jake… not in… don’t…” the rest broke off into a whimper 

He leaned down to sink his teeth into the side of your neck, marking you as his as he slammed into you one, two, three more times. 

“Don’t… please don’t… I’m not—Jake, not inside…” you tried to say it stronger, but it faded into a breathy cry. And with a harsh groan, Jake buried himself as deep as he could go, his cock pulsing and throbbing as he started to come.

"Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck!" he roared, his hot seed erupting from his cock and painting your insides. He ground against you, making sure every last drop took root deep inside your spasming cunt.

"Milk it, babygirl," Jake commanded, his voice ragged and spent but still demanding. "Squeeze out every drop of my cum like a good little cock sleeve. Show me how much you love being bred."

He ground into you with the weight of obsession, ensuring every last drop was claimed. "Milk it," he snarled, teeth brushing your ear. "Fucking take all of it, you filthy little thing. You wanted this—don’t you dare pretend you didn’t." You couldn’t answer. Your mouth was slack, your breaths shallow and wrecked. You were gone, floating in the dark. 

He pulled out slowly, watching the slick spill of cum drip from between your thighs. A low, satisfied sigh escaped him. “Look at you,” Jake murmured as he sat back on his heels, sweat streaking his chest. “Fucking ruined.”

The kitchen light buzzed faintly overhead as Jake stepped across the tile, muscles still twitching from the aftershocks. His phone lit up on the counter. One message. 

Sunghoon: So? How was she?

Jake’s lips twisted into a dark smile. He stepped back into the living room, grabbed his phone, and snapped a picture—your body sprawled on the couch, legs still parted, his release glistening between them.

Jake : She put up a fight at first. You were right—she’s fucking magic...

Another ping.

Sunghoon: Told you. She was made for this.

[sometimesanalice]

Dream a Little Dream

Summary: After a long week away in Lemoore, all Bradley wants to do is come home to you. The only thing is, you’re just not where he expects to find you.

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 4.5K

Warnings: so much fluff and a truly smitten Bradley Bradshaw (mdni)

(author's note: this is a fic is set in the 'Like I Can' universe, however it can be read on its own!)

Bradley throws his head back and lets out low groan as he hits another red light.

Nothing in the past week he’d spent up in Lemoore had felt as long as this drive home from base.

Not the stuffy dinner with the higher ups that had Mav and him exchanging looks from across the table, both of them clearly wishing to be anywhere else than done up in their Dress Whites. Not the long nights sharing a room with Hangman, who snored louder than the multiple phone alarms that he’d kept snoozing instead of turning off, as if the scratchy Navy provided sheets weren’t bad enough on their own. Not the drills or the lectures or the reviewing of the new procedural guidelines or equipment requirements with the crew stationed up there.

He'd felt the all the tension that had been building up over the week melt off of him the moment he’d turned the key in the ignition- the engine to the Bronco rumbling to life after a week of sitting on a parking lot on North Island- knowing that he was finally on his way home.

Technically, he was on his way to your apartment. But it was the same difference to him.

Wherever you were was where he wanted to be.

That was home. You were home.

Minus the fact that the San Diego traffic controllers seemed to have it out for him.

He thought for a moment he’d make it to your place in record time considering that there weren’t many people on the road a 2am. He hadn’t even bothered to turn the radio on, but even 105.3 THE ROCK where hits go to die would be preferable to the way he was agitatedly drumming his thumb on the steering wheel. But he was stubborn and now he left it off out of spite when his drive became a game of ‘How Many Times Will Rooster Hit The Red’.

It had been more stop than go at this point.

“Finally,” Bradley mumbles to himself when the light turns green and shifts out of neutral into first.

When Jake had dropped him off at base after their five-hour road trip back to San Diego, he’d decided to suck it up and stick around to get some of the paperwork that he’d been putting off out of the way so that he could enjoy the days off he had lined up after the trip. He might have lost track of time and caught a second wind filling out flight logs with only the whir of the overhead fluorescents to keep him company, working until he reached the point where he felt like he couldn’t keep his eyes opened anymore. His eyelids getting heavier and heavier with each passing minute he stayed seated at the desk he’d commandeered to work at.

It had been a week of sleeping like shit. And not just because of the creaky, lumpy mattress or Hangman’s snoring. But because he’d gotten used to your soft, warm body pressed against his and the sound of your gentle breathing to lull him to sleep. He’d had a taste of what true luxury was like and now it was hard to go back to the bare minimum he’d known before.

He’d known even before he’d left the building that he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep unless you were tucked against him. He’d barely slept 300 miles away from you, but it would have been even worse to go back to his condo knowing you were closer than ever and yet still so far.

Being in the same city wasn’t enough for him. He needed to be under the same roof, under the same covers.

Four red lights later, he’s turning onto your block. By some kind of miracle there’s an open spot big enough for the Bronco near the main entry without him having to maneuver into it with too much effort. It’s another reason why he’s dying to have you move in with him, the parking at your apartment complex is trash. And there are never enough guest spots, even with the parking pass he kept in his glove box.

Bradley lets himself in to your apartment as quietly as he can, opening the door slowly as to not wake you. The spare key you’d given him when you’d first moved here had lived on his own set of keys for the last couple of years, along with the fighter jet keychain you’d picked up for him when the two of you were teens during a family trip to Pensacola as thanks for looking after your hermit crabs. Even if one of them did lose a claw on his watch, which he’d felt guilty about for days, until you told him it would most likely grow back.

He’d never had a lot to be sentimental about, but that keychain with the charm whose silver finish had long been worn off around the edges was one of the few things that had been everywhere with him, so it wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

He gingerly sets the key on the console table you had near the front door, trying to keep them from clattering together. Carefully, he toes his boots off and sets his bag down next to them, making sure to keep it off the runner you had in the entryway. He knew you wouldn’t care if he tracked in some dirt on it, but he did.

One of the things he’s always liked about your apartment is how lived in it was.

Even in the dark, Bradley could make out the ruffly curtains you’d hung up over the door to your balcony. And the impressive gallery wall that framed your TV, one that was a mix of your own photos and art that you’ve accumulated along the way. There were more pillows than he thought was necessary on your couch, but made for one of his favorite afternoon nap spots. You usually had fresh flowers on your coffee table, the ones there now from what he could tell looked a little wilted, so he made a note to pick you up something from the shop next to the grocery store when he goes out to restock his fridge.

He lightly treads past your kitchen- and the two different types of coffee makers you had lined up on the countertop- towards your bedroom.

Bradley could already see it in his mind’s eye. The curve of the dip of your waist as you slept under your white comforter with the light blue piping along the edges. Always with a foot kicked out. The framed picture of the two of you on your nightstand. The chair in the corner where your pile of folded-and-to-be-put-away-later clean clothes sat. Your dresser topped with some leafy green thing and your tray of jewelry, where you’d cleared out not one but three drawers - which was a whole half of wooden unit he’d helped you build when you first moved in- for him to use for his things. Not to mention space in your closest too and room on the shoe rack you kept in there.

It was more than what he needed, but that was you. You’d always been the type to go above and beyond for the people you cared about. But now it meant more because you weren’t just sharing your space with him, you were sharing your life with him.

The blinds aren’t pulled closed, so your room is illumined with more city light than he was expecting. And he can see with clarity that everything is in its place.

The picture of him kissing your cheek- your nose scrunched up in that way he knows so well- in the grassy park where you’d surprised him with a showing of one of his favorite movies on one of your first dates together. The white linen covered chair with your clothes had an old sweatshirt of his tossed over the back of it that he knows if he were to pick it up would smell more like you than him. The plant in the white ceramic vase on your dresser was one you’d bought at the farmer’s market almost two years ago now to commemorate your big move there, you’d proudly carried it around for the rest of the morning while he’d carried your ever-growing collection of bags.

Everything right where it should be, except for you.

Your bed is perfectly made up. Well, the side he usually sleeps on is. The are corners still tucked in with the same crisp precision you use to wrap presents. The right side, however, looks like the comforter and sheets were hastily thrown back, a rumpled pile of fabric in the spot where he thought you’d be sleeping.

There’s only one other place where you would be.

Bradley doesn’t even try to quiet his steps as he struts back towards the door with a new destination in mind. He shoves his feet back into his boots, not bothering to retie his laces, as he scoops his keys out of the little bowl he’d just put them in barely even five minutes ago. Only slowing down long enough to make sure he’s properly locked the door behind him before he’s back in the Bronco for the second time that night.

This time the drive feels like nothing. Especially since he hits green lights all the way there.

His lips turn up in an automatic smile when he sees your all-too-practical white Honda Civic parked in the drive way of his condo. He doesn’t think he could find the words to describe the feeling that wells up in his chest at the sight of it.

It just felt right.

Bradley lets himself in, using his own key this time.  

His condo had always felt more like a place to land, rather than a home. Over the last few months though that feeling has changed for him.

For Bradley’s whole life things have felt temporary. The people he met. The things he owned. The bases he lived on. You made him crave permanence in a way he’d never experienced before. The two of you had a couple decades worth of history, but he knew he couldn’t be truly content until his ring was on your finger and you shared his last name.

He can see your fingerprints in this space from the knit blanket draped on his couch to the framed print on the wall over the breakfast nook. He can see the promise of a future together in the fancier-than-he’s-used-to coffee maker on the kitchen counter.

It’s quiet, but not the empty kind.

The light above the stove is turned on illuminating the kitchen.

That was usually his final task of the night before going to bed. Flicking off the brighter overheads in exchange for the softer one that gave him just enough light to avoid crashing into things in the darkness if he woke up in the middle of the night and was on the hunt for something to eat or drink while still half-asleep.

Although it hits him now that he can’t remember the last time he’s turned it on himself.

It was something he’d noticed that you didn’t do at your own apartment when the two of you had first started sleeping together. But now if he thinks back on it, every glass of cool water out of the filtering pitcher you kept in the fridge and every bowl of late-night cereal he’s had that little light has been on to guide him into the kitchen while you slept peacefully in bed.

It’s a realization that lands squarely behind his ribcage.

Bradley kicks his boots off next to your sandals by the door and turns the lock back into place behind him. Normally, he’d take them up to be put away in their proper place, but for now he’s got other more important things on his mind.

He takes the stairs two at a time as soundlessly as he can, avoiding the step that sometimes pops. The first door on the left has been left slightly ajar, just wide enough for him to slip into.

there you are, his heart registers before his eyes do.

Tucked under the green comforter- with that one foot kicked out- on the wooden canopy bed he’d recently purchased is you.

He couldn’t fight back the smile on his face that the sight of you curled up there on his side of the bed, with your face pressed into his pillow, even if he wanted to.

Bradley still doesn’t know how he got to be so lucky that he gets to be the one to see you like this, at complete ease as you sleep, as relaxed in his bed as you are in your own. He’s grateful for every morning he gets to wake up with you and every night he gets to fall asleep with you in his arms.

It’s never been like this for him, not before you. It’s a good thing he’s already told you he loved you, otherwise he doesn’t think he could have been able to hold himself back from waking you up right here and now to tell you.

Quietly, he steps up the side of the bed, taking a moment to admire you looking soft and warm and like everything he could ever want. The few FaceTime calls the two of you had had over the course of the week couldn’t even begin to capture just how beautiful you were. Bradley leans down to brush a featherlight kiss against your temple and straightens back up. You let out a contented hmm, and he hopes you’re dreaming of him.

He’s never needed anything more than to be under those covers with you.

Bradley undresses quickly in the walk-in closet and strips down to his boxer briefs, leaving his khakis to decorate the floor until sometime later when the sun was back up in the sky. Realizing as he takes off his watch that in his rush to get here that he’d left his bag with all his other laundry by the door at your apartment. A grunt of exasperation escapes him, and he’s glad that you’re a deep sleeper and the fact he keeps his baseball bat in the garage. Especially since he’s the one that taught you how to power swing.

The only sound in the room is of your even breaths and his carpet-muffled footsteps as he pads across the room. He lifts up the covers on your side of them bed and slides into the cool sheets, the stiffness in his joints loosening at the contact, and scoots in closer until he can feel your warmth.

He’d been in San Diego for the better part of four hours now, but he hadn’t been truly home until about thirty seconds ago.

Bradley debates for a split-second whether or not to let you sleep or if he should wake you up so you’re not startled to find a 6’ 1” aviator back in bed with you. But he knows you well enough to make an educated guess. He murmurs your name, rubbing a hand gently up and down along your back, and presses his lips together when you let out a soft, sleepy sigh.

You jolt a little as you ease back into consciousness. “B-bradley?”

“It’s just me,” he hums in confirmation as he squeezes your hip, all sleep-warmed skin under his palm. He doesn’t miss the way you relax instantly against him at the sound of his voice, settling further back into him.

“You’re home early.” You reach back for him, your hand finding the base of his head, lightly scratching at his scalp as you weave your fingers through his hair.

“Mav either pulled some strings or took one for the team by staying another day, but we all jumped at the chance to get out of Le-snore early.” You let out a little snort at that.

“’re you hungry?” you offer sleepily, the words a bit slurred and strung together. “Do you want me to make you something?” Bradley is equal parts amused and endeared that you’re not even half way awake yet and wanting to look after him.

His sweet girl.

He presses an affectionate kiss on the back of your neck and wonders if you can feel his soft smile, the one that’s reserved for only you.

“Nah, I’m good,” he says, resting his chin on your shoulder, “I promise.”

He’d snagged a couple protein bars from the mess on base and had scarfed them down as he filled out his overdue flight logs. But also, there was no way he was getting out of this bed now that he was in it. Not for anything in the world.  

Bradley leans in close, letting his lips skim against your ear, “You know this could count as breaking and entering, kid. Always knew that good girl thing was just an act.”

You lightly tug on his hair. “I don’t think that would hold up in court of law seeing as you gave me a key and all,” you retort, you voice still low and raspy from sleep.

“I’m pretty sure I gave my best friend a key,” he drawls, teasingly, “Don’t remember giving my girlfriend one though.” He drops a kiss to your soft-cotton covered shoulder. The shirt you were wearing was one he’d completely forgotten about until you sent him that picture of you in bed sometime past 2am in the early days of when you’d started dating, before the two of you had sex for the first time. His name was printed on the back- right at the very top- along with all the other players on the Washington High Cardinals baseball team from the year they’d won the championship. “Think ‘m going to have to fix that.”

You shake your head amused into his pillow before looking at him from over your shoulder and turning to lean back into his chest. When your eyes meet, there’s nothing but fondness reflected in them. Yours is a face he’s known most of his life, he could read you as easily as any book, and it’s even more apparent just a few inches away from his just how happy you are to see him.

He slides a hand around the side of your neck, his thumb caressing your cheek as he drinks you in. His eyes travel over your forehead, and along the curve of your cheekbones, and down the bridge of your nose, and lands on the dimples framing your smile.

thereyouarethereyouare

Bradley dips down to kiss you for the first time in a week. Your lips part easily, like you’ve been waiting for this too. There’s no rush. Your kiss is slow like honey off a spoon. Just as sweet as it’s meant to be savored. And there’s no doubt in his mind that this was always how it was supposed to be.

You and him.

Him and you.

Together.

“Hi, sweet girl,” he says, warmly.

“Hi, Bradley.” You tilt your head up for another kiss, one he has no intention withholding from you. “I missed you.”

It’s a new feeling for him, knowing he has someone to miss him when he is away. And having someone to miss in return. It’s been a long time since he’s had that in any real way that truly mattered. Bradley knows he’s due for a deployment soon, one that’ll take him from you- from this bed- for months. He’s already found the perfect thing to give you for when he leaves, something to show you how he’ll be thinking of you. But he doesn’t want to dwell on that inevitable reality.

For now, he just wants to share your warmth and focus on the feel of you pressed against him. Enjoying the luxury of getting to have this with you.

He just lets himself hold you the way you deserve to be held. He lets himself kiss you the way you deserve to be kissed. He’ll love you the way you deserve to be loved for as long as you’ll have him.

“I missed you too.” Whispering your name because he likes feel of it in his mouth.

“I think I was having a dream about you,” you murmur against his lips.

Bradley grins. “Yeah? Was it dirty?” You laugh in response, it’s his favorite sound. Happy. You make him so damn happy. He buries his face in the nook where your neck meets your shoulder and breathes you in. Lavender and cedar. Your favorite lotion to put on before bed, and something of his that he can’t put his finger on. “Mm, you smell good.”

“I took a shower before bed, used your body wash,” you tell him, running your hand along his arm. He senses you smile before he hears it. “And you smell like Jake.”

He groans and rubs the coarse hairs of his mustache against the soft skin of your neck. You giggle and try to squirm away from his prickly retaliation, but he’s got you basically pinned to the bed now. All your perfect curves against his firm angles.

“I can’t believe he’s still using a black ice tree air freshener like a damn sixteen-year-old,” Bradley grumbles. As if him and Seresin hadn’t spent enough quality time together over the week, now he was basically in bed with him and his girlfriend.

“At least you’ll know what to get him for his birthday,” you offer less than helpfully, playfully nudging his foot with yours.

Bradley chuckles and props himself up on an arm to gaze at you. He can feel the need for sleep settling over him, the long day and the longer week catching up with him that now he’s home and here with you. He can tell you’re drowsy too from the dewy way you’re blinking at him, and appreciative that you’re indulging him in this bit of pillow talk. In the quiet of his bedroom, he admits, “I went to your apartment first.”

You look almost bashful when you say, “I like these sheets better.” Both of you know that’s not your real answer for why you’re in his bed instead of yours.

He lifts an eye brow, meaningfully. “You have the same ones at your place.” Bradley knows because he made sure to check and buy the same kind for his own bed.

“Semantics,” you reply, breezily. Although he catches a hint of a pleased smile before you lean into trail a few kisses along the underside of his jaw. “Do you want your side of the bed back?” you ask.

“It’s our bed, sweet girl. You can sleep wherever you want,” Bradley says, “I’m good just as long as I can hold my girl.”

You thumb at the dimple of his chin, gazing up at him, “Have you gotten much sleep this week?”

Bradley just hums in response.

The softest of looks coast over your face. Understanding, sympathy, tenderness. It’s all there painted on your face from the little furrow between your eyebrows to the thoughtful search in your eyes as you read his face in return. He didn’t even say a word and you’ve got him figured out.

You tug on his arm and turn back over, taking him with you. Snuggling in so that your body is cradled closer to his, his chest all but pressed against your back. He slides his arm under your pillow and finds your other hand, threading his larger fingers between your own.

He situates your pillow beneath his head, sighing as he gets comfortable on the supportive mattress. He runs his palm over the familiar dip of your waist as you stretch and burrow in further, getting ready to go back to sleep. His fingertips find the edge of your cotton underwear and he follows it over your hip and along the side of your stomach, slipping one under the band to stroke at the soft skin near your hipbone.

It's the same spot where he’d find you butterflies if the two of you weren’t reversed from the way you usually fall asleep facing the other direction. Their location was a pinpoint in his mind, memorized from the moment he’d seen them that very first night together. He liked imagining he could feel the delicate lines of them under his fingertips as he drifted to sleep.

He hears the almost inaudible catch of your breath at his touch. “In the morning,” he promises.

You make a half-hearted noise of dissatisfaction, already well on your way to falling back asleep. He feels more than a little self-satisfied that he’s the one getting these reactions from you, that you want his touch just as much as he wants yours.

“Tease.” You nestle in closer, your ass brushing against his cock in a way that leaves no question it had been done on purpose.

“Menace,” he chuckles, lightly.

You hum, a pleased sound and reach for his wrist, removing temptation for the both of you and slide his hand beneath your shirt right to the very spot above your bellybutton where he normal finds its drifted to during the night on the mornings he wakes up with you in his arms.

The two of you fit together better than he ever could have possibly imagined.

“Hey, kid, what’re you doing tomorrow? I wanted to take you to breakfast.”

“To the place with the banana pancakes?”

Kisses the crown of your head, and he thinks he hears you sigh. “Wherever you want.”

“I could get away with a little hooky,” you yawn, “Maybe we could go to the beach too. Wanna spend the day with you.”

Bradley pulls you in closer, and closes his eyes. “Sounds like a plan.”

“I can’t wait.” It’s more of a sleepy mumble than anything else, but he’s already looking forward to waking up.

He listens as your breathing slowly evens out, knowing when you’ve fully drifted off. It didn’t take you long, the way it never seems to when he’s in bed beside you.

Maybe one day soon he’ll get to have you here with him every night. But until then, this is more than enough, he’s happy to fall asleep with his dream girl tucked on his arm.

Bradley lets himself imagine the day where you come and stay and it’s for good this time, because all of your clothes are in the closet and your mail gets delivered along with his.

And it won’t be just his favorite dream, it’ll be his reality.

I will never not be down bad for a smitten Bradley Bradshaw! Thank you to @yourlocalcringydaydreamer for sending the ask that inspired this soft fic!

Thank you for reading!

You can read more about these two or check out all of my stories here!

and just for grins and giggles, here is the gift that Bradley has picked out for her when he gets those deployment orders. He's the sentimental type.

taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted  @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange 

[fairestwriting]

Ruggie, Jade, and Sebek with a Reader that's reeeeeeeeally interested in how beastmen, mer folk, and faes work! Constantly asking them questions, following them around, working up the courage to ask whether they could touch their more non-human parts...

𐙚 Ruggie Bucchi

He’s a little bit flustered, honestly. Ruggie has never really gotten treated like he’s so… unique? He can’t quite word it at first. It’s just that hyena beastmen are so common back home, and then he went to NRC, where beastmen in general aren’t rare either. He’s answered a curious human friend’s question here and there, yeah, but they’re usually not… that excited over any small answer.

Soon enough, he starts to have fun with it, not taking it too seriously. ”What, are you surprised I don’t eat raw meat for lunch?” He’ll ask you when he catches you watching him during lunchtime, smirking. Ruggie thinks your fascination is funny. He wonders what kind of place you might come from, he’s really never seen someone be so surprised over a hyena beastman like him. He’ll need to ask you about it sometime.

Freezes up a little if you ask to touch his ears or tail. On a second thought, he should’ve seen that coming, considering how fascinated he seems to be to you… but it still surprises him anyway. Do you even know how that could sound, depending on the context? He just assumes you don’t.

Ruggie will let you touch his ears, though. He just doesn’t see a reason to make it a big deal, you might be an oddball, sure, but you don’t seem like you have any bad intentions. “…You’re lucky I’m so nice, y’know. Some guys wouldn’t take that too well.” He tells you through a slightly awkward chuckle. His ears get twitchy under your touch, and he subconsciously leans into it, just a little bit. You’re definitely an interesting person yourself, that’s for sure…

𐙚 Jade Leech

Feels a sort of endeared amusement similar to Ruggie’s, but without the surprise element. He’s heard his fair share of questions, despite his difference in species presenting less overtly than your typical beastman… Partially just because Floyd used to bite people last year, though. But if you didn’t hear about that already, there’s no need for him to tell you.

When you ask him questions, he’ll answer very clearly, coming off quite friendly. Your directness is a change of pace that he welcomes. Plus he can’t help but find it funny that this look of awe never quite leaves your eyes, even when he thinks his answer might not be that interesting.

…But if you come up to him and mention some kind of rumor or myth you heard about merfolk, he *is* going to play into it. Especially if it’s the scary sort. ”Well, merfolk are very diverse. I couldn’t tell you for sure if we grow to this size because it made it easier to hunt humans in the past…” He tells you, barely concealing the chuckle that it gets from him when you go all wide-eyed again.

Jade isn’t surprised you’re curious about the texture of his fins or tail. He shrugs at your request to touch them, smiling widely. ”Perhaps. We’d have to find a way to get you underwater, though…” Is his official answer, which is actually entirely joke-free. He’s not going to take it as if you’re implying anything, there’s no way you’d know it even had implications— If you did do your own research, though, that’s another story…

𐙚 Sebek Zigvolt

Oh, everyone knows how much Sebek loves to talk about being half fae… Well, everyone but you, it seems. It’s like a dream come true to him. And a nightmare to his peers that are a little more sensitive to sound.

At first, though, he definitely doesn’t seem like he’s going to be that much of an open book. He’s giving you a stern looking frown as you point at his ears and mutter your first question. ”What sort of question is that? Even the most clueless humans know fae tend to have differently shaped ears.” He near scoffs.

But that doesn’t really put a dent in your curiosity, even though you apologize if you were rude. The exact second that you tell him you have not, in fact, ever seen a fae in your life and were just curious about the topic, that initial icyness fully melts away. Oh, so you’re not that sort of ignorant human, you’re different— Sebek thinks, and then it’s like he’s sharing some of the wonder you feel.

He quickly proclaims that he’ll teach you all about the rich history of fae, all the incredible abilities they can have— What’s that? You want to touch his ears? You want to know just how different his body temperature is? Sebek’s got you, of course he does. Touch usually kind of flusters him, but he’s already decided to be your teacher about all things fae. And if you want to learn even more than he’s teaching, to him that just means he’s doing a great job.

if you like my work you can support me by commissioning me or tipping me on ko-fi ── ᵎᵎ ✦

[hazelfoureyes]

The Big Part

Alastor x Virgin FemReader smut

Part 2 Part 3

You were dead, it was time to divest yourself of your virginity. When you ask Alastor, he takes to the task immediately. Unfortunately, he seems to enjoy surprising you.

warnings/promises: Alastor x Reader smut, Alastor dislikes getting naked, virginity does not rock, possessive Alastor, head pats, reader is an adult she’s just a nervous idiot bad at words

Horny little deer cult: @frompeach , @chirimeimei , @poppingaround , @polytheatrix , @itsmskeisha , @stygianoir , @celestial-vomit , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @amurtan

minors dni, this isn’t educational in the slightest and is just straight smut

It made sense, at the time. You didn’t want a relationship and you didn’t want to meet a stranger you couldn’t trust, that left very few people to ask. Husk would say no, and probably stop serving you drinks. Angel would most likely agree, but you were a little intimidated by his experience. That left Alastor. While you hadn’t spent much time together, your interactions were always cordial. And plus, this was hell. Isn’t this kind of situation a sinners dream come true?

For most, maybe. But you didn’t know Alastor. Not yet, not really. Everything he did had some ulterior motive. Perhaps nothing he had ever done was simply selfless. If Alastor wasn’t gaining something, Alastor wasn’t interested.

You caught him in the hallway one evening after redemption-oriented activities, deciding to get the moment over with as quickly as possible.

“It’s a favor, little… odd. But you’re the only person I have to ask.” Your eyes darted around his face, down the hall, up the walls, anywhere really but his eyes.

“I’m all ears!” Alastor tapped the microphone to the ground with a satisfying ‘thud’.

Oh— you had rehearsed this but you hadn’t prepared to be staring at that large, toothy grin. It wasn’t unsettling, it was just distracting. Would he be smiling the entire time he… ya know.

“I am,” you steepled your hands, pointing them at him, “a virgin.” You paused, hoping maybe he’d just infer the rest and you could stop talking.

His face was motionless save his eyelids rising up.

“And I don’t want to be. Anymore.” Your lips pursed together. C’mon, Alastor. Figure it out.

Alastor nodded.

You dragged your fingers down your face, “Would you help me with that?”

His head cocked to the side like a golden retriever being handed a book on ancient Egypt. Very nice offer but what exactly do I do with it?

“Help how, precisely?” He finally spoke, tone unchanged from any normal topic of discussion. Alastor watched your face scrunch up, mouth moving around words you abandoned half way through. You weren’t saying anything, just making panicked sounds. “I find annunciation most helpful when wanting to be understood, dear.”

You wanted to somersault out the nearest window. “Alastor will you take my virginity?”

“Take it where?”

You groaned, he laughed, “Just kidding, my dear! All in good fun. So, to be clear, you would like your first sexual experience to be with me?” He pointed the microphone from you to him.

You nodded, “Yes, please.”

His smile seemed to strain. Staring down at you, he tried to understand what your motivation was for this. But as he looked into your big, concerningly innocent eyes, he realized there was none. You really, simply, want him to be the first.

Ooh, as he thought it, he felt his pulse quicken in his lap. The first. A spot no one else could take. For the rest of your afterlife, he would always be the one who was first in you. A delicious thought. He could work with that.

“Are you free now?” He leaned down to your level.

“Oh. I wasn’t-,”

“Expecting immediacy? Perfect, the element of surprise has never failed me before.” His hand wrapped around your waist and drew you in to his chest, there was a rush of cold air over your skin before you felt yourself falling back.

It was soft, the room was dark, save for a small floor lamp in the corner. Your room, you realized.

“I didn’t know you knew my room number.”

“It’s my job to know everything about the hotel.” He said, tossing your shoes behind him. Was this happening now? Right now?

“I can do it, it’s, it’s fine.” You sat up and began undoing your pants. Alastor just standing there, watching. Smiling. Fuck, was it going to be this awkward the entire time? Should you say something? Touch him? You were lifting the hem of your shirt when you realized he was still fully dressed. “Are you going to take off your clothes?”

“Why would I do that?” Head lolled to the side.

You stopped mid-way through unhooking your bra, “Alastor you do know I was asking you to fuck me, right?”

He nodded. Maybe this was a mistake.

After taking off your bra, and finally your panties, you crawled to the top of your bed and drew your knees to your chest. Your feet hid your sex from view. Heart racing, but it wasn’t excitement, as you had anticipated. It was nerves. Would it hurt? Would you make a stupid face? What if he didn’t like the sounds you made? What if you regretted it after?

Alastor got on the bed on his knees, undoing his belt buckle but not his pants. The way he looked at you, your heart skipped a beat. You suddenly remembered he was called the ‘cannibal deer’ as you saw something akin to hunger in his eyes.

“What experience do you have?” His voice was suddenly low, deeper than before. This wasn’t the pun loving radio man you saw prodding the staff.

“I dated. Before. Kissing, um, I don’t know the bases. Groping?” You grimaced, it sounded so formal.

“Have you ever,” he began to slink toward you on his hands and knees, red eyes glowing in the dim light of your room, “been entered?”

Your cheeks burned, your head suddenly swayed as if it was half full of water and someone tipped you over. “Just myself, my,” you lifted your hand.

“Show me.”

All the air left the room, sucked out of your lungs and into his grin.

Uncrossing your feet, you tried to open your thighs without seperating your knees. It didn’t work, but you still managed to get a hand between your legs and to your entrance. You could have cried, you were soaking wet to an embarrassing degree. Your eyes return to Alastor, his gaze never leaving you. Even as you slipped a finger, then two, into yourself. You thought for sure he would want to watch your hands playing with your wet pussy but no, his eyes stayed on your face. Somehow, that was worse.

A shaky sigh escaped, your eyes closing as you tried to focus on relaxing around your digits.

Your head smacked against the headboard when you felt a third finger enter. Not yours. Your eyes flew back open to see him now directly in front of you.

“Two won’t do, dear.” He spun his finger around, pulling slightly at the thin skin of your entrance. “Unless you’d prefer this to hurt?”

You shook your head no, still stinging from the impact you had made. “May I?” His hand took your wrist and removing your fingers. Swiping your wetness from your ass to your clit, he coated his claw-like digits and pushed three back in. They were longer than yours, sharper. You could feel he moved gently, in and out. Your head was heavy, breath short and fast.

He laughed, bringing your consciousness fully back into the room, “Already wanting to change your mind?”

You shook your head side to side, still too embarrassed to speak, and took a grounding breath to help your body accept his fingers. He took his time, sliding in and out of you. His fingers picking up the slick and letting it lubricate your lips. It was so slow, the only pleasure for you was knowing it wasn’t your hand doing it.

But then his stretching of your hole stopped, and he grabbed both of your knees from underneath and pulled you down toward him. Now on your back, legs up and in his hands, you heard his belt slide through the loopholes, his zipper drop. You wanted to look, but you also absolutely did not want to look.

Your knees came together when you felt something hot and round at your entrance. “Ah-ah,” He opened them immediately. He reached for one of your hands, and brought it down to his cock. It was so hard under your fingers, but gave a little when you squeezed. It made him hiss.

“You tell me when to stop, little doe.” He pressed into your opening, pulled back. Pressed in, just barely making it past your lips, pulled back. He kept this pressing and pulling, head making slightly more leeway every time. Your fingers were holding right behind the tip.

“How about this, dear. I’ll just get the head in for now. Manageable!”

“Just— just get the big part in first?” You asked, the pressure at your entrance building with every shallow thrust.

He laughed, nodding as he held both of your knees further apart. When he attempted to get past the curve of his cock’s head, your hands flew down to press against his thigh, pushing back with the intrusion. Alastor stilled, sighed, and pressed his head fully in with a determined thrust. Instinctively, your feet came to his chest and tried to push away from him. It felt like you were being torn down the middle, your body forced apart at your most sensitive junction. He held you still now by the ankles, legs splayed in the air.

It burned where your walls were pushed aside. Stinging where the skin tore slightly just beneath your hole, unable to stretch.

“Breath, sweetheart.” He set your ankles down. “Does it hurt?”

You nodded.

“I’ll stay here for a bit,” he settled on his legs, looking down at where he was connected to you. Your pink little pussy looking positively overwhelmed by his cock. No one has ever been here before, and he could feel it. Your walls were pressing so hard against him his shaft was slightly curved from the force pushing his head out. You still had so much to take, there was so much more of you for him to explore. You tried to calm your breathing but your heart was racking against your sternum.

Hand reaching down again, you let your fingers count little paces from his core to yours. You knew the hardest part was over, but that didn’t bring much comfort as you felt how far you still had to go.

Alastor let his eyes wander away from your not-so-virgin cunt to your face. Your expression was twisted, not pained but clearly uncomfortable.

“How does it feel?” He asked, gesturing to your lap with a nod of his head.

“Full, so full.”

His cackle disheartened you, “Darling I am no where done filling you up.”

You clenched when he said it, earning a small groan from him. You were already too tight, when you spasmed on him it was nearly painful. There was more to do yet, more of you to claim as his. Just the tip of his cock was simply not enough.

His hips started moving again, the folds of his head pulling at the skin of your entrance but not actually crossing the barrier. He was gently rocking, barely making friction between you two. Your hand clawed at his knee, breath hitching. You let an airy moan slip, his head no longer an intrusion but something hot and melty barely rubbing your walls. It started to feel almost good.

Alastor’s cock was throbbing, his shaft touch-starved and desperate for the heat of your cunt. Your face was relaxing now, eyes blinking around new sensations. He wanted to see you experience more, more firsts and frighteningly foreign pleasures. He wanted to see you scared of how good he could make you feel. Alastor wanted you to never feel whole again without him buried balls deep in you.

“Can you take more?” His voice was like gravel, a radio static crackling in.

You met his eyes, glowing still in the dim light, wide and nearly frenzied in their dilation. His smile was practically beaming down at you.

“I don’t know.” You were scared to move forward, even though you wanted more.

“I don’t like liars.” A pop of electricity arcing at the end of his words. You pulled a pillow over your face, trying to hide from the reaction you knew he’d have as his voice made you tighten around him. “Your body says otherwise,” he hissed.

You wanted to say ‘yes’, if this could feel good then how great would all of him feel? But you were scared to vocalize it. Scared to make it start. Alastor lifted the pillow, “I need to see you, dear.” He set it beside his leg, “Do you remember what I said earlier?”

Brow furrowed, you shook your head. His grin widened to his ears as his hands slid down your thighs to your hips and he sank his cock to the hilt.

The element of surprise definitely made the nerves of saying ‘yes’ dissipate, but you were now choking on your breath, hands gripping at the blankets beneath you. Was this normal? Was he too far inside you? You felt nauseous, your guts prodded by Alastor’s member.

“How does it feel now?” He watched your eyes scanning the ceiling for an answer. You felt sure there was no way his head could leave you ever again. It was so snuggly fit in you, you feared you’d be pulled inside out. “Words, dear.”

You sat up on your elbows, sweating from the nerves of it all. “Like there’s a big stick stuck in me.”

“Accurate!” He laughed, and began pulling out. You whined, head dropping back. Almost taking himself out completely, he paused before thrusting back in. The head of his cock dragged against your walls, you could feel him with such detail. Every inch of him leaving impressions behind. Alastor could feel it too, how your soft warmth moved out of his way with every push. How pliable your womb was to his intrusions.

More. You could take more, he was positive of it.

Slowly, your moans began to get louder as the pressure faded into pleasure. Every time he bottomed out, you jumped. Every time he pulled out, you wanted to chase after him with your hips.

Watching your face soften, eyes now watery, Alastor was sure you were relaxed enough. He grabbed the pillow beside him, lifting your ass and sliding it under the small of your back. You didn’t ask, just waited to see what the point was. Dissatisfied, he grabbed another and added it under you.

Your hips were up, ass hanging over the ledge the pillows made, back bent upward. When he began to thrust again, you whinced feeling a new part of you widen for him. “Can you see me?” You looked at him when he said it, but he grabbed your hand and placed it beneath your belly button. When he pushed back in, you could feel his cock beneath your hand. Moving it, you watched your stomach bulge slightly when he was completely sheathed in you.

“Oh fuck-,” your head fell back into the bed, it was too much to feel let alone to watch, “Too deep.”

He hummed an acknowledgement, picking up his pace. “Let me see how you cum.”

Your face was hot, reluctantly bringing your hand to your clit and rubbing.

No, this wasn’t a mistake at all. If anything you regretted not asking sooner.

His thrusts now brought lightning to your core, your finger quickening in speed with the realization of just how good he could feel.

Studying your face still, he adjusted his angle until he saw the muscles in your neck tighten. He knew he found your g-spot, your moans dipping into cries.

“I can’t—,” You couldn’t get over the hump, knowing he was watching you, waiting for you.

“You can”, the lights flickered, his eyes now black with small red pupils illuminating your naked body, “and you will, my dear.” One of his hands stopped pressing finger sized bruises into your hips to instead push your own finger aside. The wide pad of his thumb took over and began thrumming you fast and hard.

That familiar build up of pleasure was stronger than you’d ever felt it, and when it finally snapped your muscles from your thighs to your toes cramped. How long had you been tensing?

You practically sobbed into the crook of your arm, Alastor’s hips slowing but still carrying you through your orgasm. They moved slower and slower, until stopping entirely. His head popped out of you, leaving you feeling hollow. Cold.

Eyes wet and blurry, you looked up at him, “Aren’t you going to finish?”

“If we do everything now, what ‘first’ will we have for tomorrow night? And the night after that?” He smiled, member already hidden away and pants buttoned. Your thighs twitched. “Same time tomorrow, little doe?”

You covered your face with both hands, and nodded.

His big hand came to your head and patted you gently, “Good girl.”

I hope you liked it 🥺 I don’t feel as confident about this one. Fun fact, my first time involved bondage. Very on brand, huh? 💖

༻Masterlist༺

Gonna start calling his dick ‘the element of surprise’. You look tired today! What happened? Oh the element of surprise kept me up all night.

[erule]

Teenage dream | b.r.

Pairing: Bob Reynolds x reader 

Summary: you’re in love with Bob, but he doesn’t know that and this is tearing you apart. Until one day, he tells you to ask him what you’ve been eager to know.

Warnings: angst, fluff, friends to lovers trope, making out (reader and Bob are both 18+ here), Thunderbolts* spoilers ahead

Word count: 1.7K+

A/N: hi guys! I’m back with a ff with Bob Reynolds, because I just loved his so much in the movie (and Lewis too ofc!!). Feedback is always appreciated by a writer! I hope you enjoy it 🌙

Main Masterlist

MCU Masterlist

Somehow, you’ve always known that. Since the first time he entered in the room, you’ve felt something, a sort of an energy or a vibe. Yelena looked at you, because she got it even before you could even comprehend what was happening inside of you. It was like a teenage dream that would come to reality. Bob said hello to everybody and your eyes lingered on his face more than you would do with a stranger. You knew what he did, but you didn’t really care about it. You weren’t scared. After years of working with the Avengers, you knew the risks. 

It was even funnier, when Bucky asked you, door closed behind you, if you were sneaking out with him. You gulped, embarrassed, but also giggled at the thought. You wished you would, but no, that wasn’t you. He was having some kind of affair with somebody else. You shrugged, then you went away in order to go back to your room, but you found Yelena next to your door. 

“He did it, didn’t he?” She asked and you nodded. Yelena sighed, tired. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I told him you weren’t doing anything with Bob, but he wanted to know it directly from you. Did it hurt you?”

“Not quite as when I saw Bob kissing Sarah,” you answered. Sarah was the classic girl next door: simple, cute and nice. You had nothing against her, really, but you weren’t glad to see her with your beloved Bob. Oh, you sounded so riddiculous!

You sighed, while preparing yourself to get into the shower. Yelena gave you a T-shirt for later. 

“I can only imagine,” Yelena said, while sitting on your bed. “If I could do something about it, like smashing his face into the wall or…”

“Unfortunately, you can’t,” you replied with a smile. “Still, I love you for that”.

“No, I don’t like all of these emotions. I’m gonna get out from here. See you at dinner, babe,” she said and you waved at her.

Sometimes, you thought that she was your only friend beside of Bob. How do you really talk to your friend about you being in love with them? You got into the shower in order to go to dinner very fast. You changed your clothes, then you did your hair. You were wearing your shoes, when somebody knocked at the door. 

“Hey,” a sweet voice said and you recognized it immediately.

“Hi,” you replied and your heart began to race.

“I… uhm… know, from Walker, that Bucky wanted to talk to you about something urgent today. Is everything alright?” He asked and you didn’t really know how to answer. You remained silent for a couple of seconds, so he shaked his head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to intrude. I was just worried about you. Bucky can be very unpleasant, sometimes”.

“Sometimes?” You joked and he smiled.

“Multiple times”.

“Anyway, thank you for your concern, but it was nothing serious”.

Then, he gulped, nodding, his shoulder on the door jamb and his fingers intertwined. You looked at him, your lips parted as if you were about to ask him a question, but you didn’t. He seemed to as well, though.

“I’ve missed this,” he said. 

“What?”

“This,” he repeated, pointing at him and you with a finger. “Us. Being friends, making jokes. Whatever we were before”.

“Before what?”

“Before I got with Sarah,” he said and you gulped, trying to hide your sense of guilt. Your feelings.

“We’re still friends,” you stated and it was true.

“I know,” he replied, then he walked towards you and you started to feel uncomfortable. 

“Please, don’t,” you said. You couldn’t handle it anymore. 

He stopped.

“I know that there’s something off here, Y/N. Just tell me,” he said and you felt terrible. He was really trying to have his friend back, but you couldn’t even admit that you were in love with him with yourself, let alone with him! You bit your bottom lip. Who knows what Void would have seen, if only he could. Maybe your secret dreams about him or the lowest point of your life, when you followed him to see why he would always go to the cafè in front of the compound. You were ashamed of yourself. He couldn’t touch you, otherwise he would have found out everything.

“I can’t. I’m sorry,” you found the courage to say, but he sighed.

“Y/N, if I did anything to offend you, I’m sorry,” he said. “You know that I wouldn’t hurt a fly, come on”.

You tried to hold back the tears.

“People can’t know anything”.

“True,” he said, while getting slowly closer to you. Your skin began to get hotter very fast, as if his only presence could make you feel warmer. “But they’re not my friends”.

“I don’t want to know your personal life’s secrets”.

“Something’s telling me you do,” he said with the ghost of a smirk on his pale face. You tilted your head. “You could live with the doubt forever or… you could just ask”. You gulped. “Ask me”.

You released the breath you were apparently holding. When you were just a teenager, you used to fantasize about a lot of fictional and real guys as if it was some kind of game, but now, all of this didn’t seem like a game to you anymore. He was real, in front of you, asking you to make him a question. So you did. 

“Why not me?”

You knew why he chose her, it wasn’t a stupid challenge between two people being in love with the same guy. It was about you and him, this time. It was about being the second chance again.

His eyes flickered. For a moment, he wasn’t Bob anymore. He was Void and Void knew how to break into your heart like nobody else. You wondered if you made the right call.

“Because it was easier,” he answered. You were confused. Easier to be with somebody less demanding than you? Easier than breaking a friendship? “Easier to fake that I didn’t care about you as much as I do,” he said, as if he could read your mind. “Everytime I look at you during a mission, I hope that our enemies don’t get how much I love you. Everytime I see you walking into the compound, I ask myself if Bucky or Yelena or anybody else knows that I’m wrapped around your finger. And every damn time that something bad happens, I fear that it happened to you and that I wasn’t there to protect you”.

The tears were rolling on your cheeks at that point.

“It’s unfair”.

“What? That you didn’t tell me that you were in love with me?” He asked.

“That you’d rather sneak around with anybody but me”.

“You’re being mean,” he said, clenching his jaw.

“And you’re breaking my heart”.

He looked at you as if you just broke the ice into his eyes and now he was bleeding on the outside. His eyes were glossy and circled in red.

“Well, then it’s a good thing that you did the same with mine, I guess”.

That was the moment in which your heart shattered into pieces.

***

Yelena was very focused while listening to your argument with Bob, but once you were finished, she rolled on the bed, exhausted. A corner of your lips turned up in half a smile. 

“You’re unbelievable!” You exclaimed, but she threw a pillow at you.

“Am I? You’re the one who fought with the love of her life over a stupid thing!”

The skin of your face started to burn.

“He’s not… He’s not the love of my life”.

“Babe, come on, he is. And he has been for as long as I can remember. Probably, you were dreaming about him when you were still a teenager”.

You sighed. It was like she could read you. That was probably why you felt something already when he just entered into the room and he light it up like it was the easiest thing to do on the planet. At that point, you couldn’t even lie anymore: you were desperately in love with him.

“You think that he was right all along?”

Yelena got up from the bed and shaked your hand.

“Y/N, have you met us? We’re the new Avengers: we go on missions, we try to save the world while we also make stupid jokes about dying in a cool way. Yeah, he’s pretty much right”.

You sat down on the bed.

“I ruined everything, didn’t I?” You asked her, while your hands are on your face.

“Maybe not,” she said and you could feel that she was smiling. 

You get up immediately from the bed, as if you could feel his presence. It’s like a dream coming true. He’s standing again with an arm on the door jamb, hands in the pockets and a curl of his hair on his forehead. He had never looked more beautiful, if that was possible.

Yelena left the room with a smile on her face.

“Hi,” you said, incredibly guilty.

“Hi”, he replied. Even his voice was like drinking cold water during a hot Summer day. It was refreshing for your ears. His face, on the other hand, was a breath of fresh air. He really was the man you’ve been looking for you whole life. You even dreamt about him when he was still a character in your head. “What you said the other day… it really hurt me”.

“Bob, I’m so…”

“No,” he interrupted you. “Let me finish. Honestly, I could have handled it in a better way. I also wasn’t fair to Sarah, you were right, so I broke up with her immediately after our argument”.

You were at a loss for words. 

He walked closer to you. His fingertips caressed your cheek and he was looking at you as if you were the sun and he was desperate to warm up. You felt electricity running through your veins, some tiny shots that were jumping from your back to your neck. He used his thumb to part your lips gently. Your eyes were burning because of the tears behind them. Please, let this moment never come to an end, you thought. Then, he placed his lips on yours and you lost every control over your nerves. Your hands felt the urge to tighten around his hair and your lips became hot and swollen after a short time of kissing. It was like the whole world has disappeared into his embrace. Every fantasy you had when you were little had now become a reality. You couldn’t even believe it. Every dream of yours was now there, in front of you. And they were all worth the wait.  

[kpoplustzone]

Game of Nine - Twice smut

Jihyo x OC

voyeur, smut, breeding, multiple series, sneaky

FOR COMMISSIONS EMAIL TO epiclude6@gmail.com

My name is CHOI HYUK. I am a 26-year-old Korean who was lucky enough to become the manager of one of the most sexy and successful girl groups in Korea. Twice has been popular since its debut and has exploded in popularity later.

Especially their members who were sexy and charming and millions of people around the world fapped to their pictures and fan cams.

I was not an exception to this, and seeing all nine of them smiling at us, the newly hired manager, was a dream come true. I remember Kiho, another newly hired manager, standing beside me and gulping in a daze, seeing the amount of sexiness in front of us.

All nine of them brought out different kinds of charm for the fans, and seeing them perform for the fans, teasing them, showing just enough so that the men can only dream about their thick bodies.

When Choi Hyuk first joined the team as an assistant for TWICE, he thought he’d landed the dream job. Backstage access, travel, and a chance to work alongside the most admired women in the industry. For the first few weeks, things felt surreal. The members were warm, friendly — Jihyo especially. She had smiled at him often, even remembered his coffee order after the second day. He’d catch her humming during rehearsals, sometimes glancing his way with a nod or playful wink. For a quiet guy like him, it felt like more than just professional kindness. It felt personal.

But then Kiho arrived.

Short, round, always laughing too loud — Kiho had a way of making people feel instantly at ease. The girls loved him. At first, Hyuk didn’t mind. It was harmless. But within weeks, things shifted. He noticed the change in the air. They started calling Kiho cute, playfully teasing him, grabbing his arm, fixing his collar. The same smiles Hyuk once got were now all for Kiho. Even Jihyo — especially Jihyo.

She barely noticed Hyuk anymore. Some days, she wouldn’t even greet him.

He’d watch from the corner of the room as she whispered in Kiho’s ear, giggling, brushing against him like it meant nothing. And Kiho… Kiho lapped it up. He didn’t even try to hide it.

Hyuk never said a word. What would be the point? He was just the quiet one now. The background. The one who blended into walls and got forgotten during group dinners. Still, something inside him simmered — not quite anger, not quite heartbreak, but a slow, twisting burn of being invisible.

Which is why, when he woke up in the back of Jihyo’s RV that afternoon, groggy from a midday nap he hadn’t meant to take, he stayed quiet.

He heard the door shut.

Then footsteps.

Then her voice — that soft, teasing voice she used when she was in the mood to play.

And then he heard Kiho.

Hyuk didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. He stayed hidden behind the thin curtain, barely peeking through, heart thudding in his chest. What he saw made his throat go dry.

Jihyo — pressed up against Kiho. Smiling. Whispering.

And touching him.

Not him. Never him.

But Hyuk couldn’t look away

Jihyo stepped into the RV, the soft click of the door locking behind her. The dim, amber lighting wrapped around her curves like a spotlight, catching the shine on her skin where her crop top clung tight across her chest. Her jeans, stretched smooth over her hips and thighs, made every step a show. She stretched her arms over her head, back arching, giving her assistant a full view — and she saw the way his eyes dropped, slowly, drinking her in like he was starving.

She smirked.

"You’ve been staring all day," she said, voice low, teasing. Her heels clicked softly as she crossed the small space between them, hips swaying just enough to drive a man crazy. "Why don’t you just admit it?" She stopped in front of him, so close her breath warmed his cheek. Her fingers brushed lightly over his collar, dragging down his chest, slow and playful. "You think about me when I’m not around, don’t you?"

He swallowed hard, too stunned to speak.

Jihyo’s eyes flicked down, then up again, watching his reactions with a wicked satisfaction. Her hands slid to his waist, fingers curling around his belt loop, tugging him closer until they were almost touching. "You're easy to read," she whispered. "And honestly… I kinda like it."

What neither of them noticed was the slight shift behind the curtain at the back of the RV. Hidden in the shadows, Choihyuk had woken the second the door opened. At first, he stayed still, groggy and annoyed, but now his eyes were wide, locked on the scene unfolding just feet away. He didn’t dare move. His breath caught in his throat as he peeked through a small gap in the curtain, heart thudding.

Jihyo leaned in again, her lips just barely brushing the assistant’s jaw. "I wonder how long you can hold back," she whispered. "Should we find out?"

She didn’t notice the way Choihyuk’s hand clutched the edge of the couch, or how hard it was for him to stay still. The tension inside the RV was thick, hot, and humming — one assistant frozen under her touch, the other hidden and burning with a mix of jealousy, longing, and something deeper he’d never dared admit out loud.

Jihyo turned to walk away, but before she could even take a full step, Kiho reached out and grabbed her wrist, his grip firm but not rough — just enough to stop her. She turned back to face him, her heart racing in a way that startled her. There was something about the way Kiho looked at her now — something that was no longer just shy admiration, but something much bolder, darker.

"You really think I'm going to let you walk away like that?" Kiho’s voice was low, his words lingering in the air. There was no mistaking the challenge in his tone now. His hand slid from her wrist to her waist, pulling her toward him with a confidence that made Jihyo’s breath catch in her throat. She could feel the heat of his palm through the fabric of her shirt, and the soft pressure of his touch made her pulse race.

Jihyo blinked, her body suddenly responding in ways she didn’t expect. Her skin felt alive, every nerve ignited by the simple, bold touch of his hand. She glanced down at him, her heart hammering in her chest. "Kiho…" she whispered, her voice a little shaky, a little breathless.

Kiho’s hand slid further, just grazing the curve of her hip before sliding around her back. His fingers flexed, pressing her body even closer to his. The warmth of him, the way his chest brushed against hers, made Jihyo tremble, a soft shiver running through her as he leaned in, his lips barely a breath away from her ear. "You don’t have to go anywhere, Jihyo," he whispered, his voice soft, yet filled with an unmistakable hunger.

Jihyo’s heart skipped. She should have pulled away. She knew she should, but every inch of her body was begging her to stay. Kiho’s touch, the way he was looking at her now, with that mix of confidence and desire… It was like a switch had flipped in him. He was no longer the shy assistant. He was a man who wanted her, and he was no longer afraid to show it.

Kiho’s other hand came up, brushing against her cheek, his fingers trailing slowly down her jaw, caressing her skin. She gasped, her body going taut under his touch, the sensation making her whole body tremble. His hand slid lower, ghosting over her neck before landing on her shoulder, his thumb drawing small circles over her skin. The simple, tender touch made Jihyo shudder again, her breath coming faster, deeper.

"You look so perfect," Kiho murmured, his voice rougher now. His hand slid lower, reaching the small of her back, pulling her in even closer. His lips were just a hair’s breadth away from hers now. "I can’t stop thinking about you," he confessed, his breath warm against her skin.

Jihyo's heart raced. Her body responded without thinking, pressing closer into him, her hands clutching at his shirt as if pulling him even closer. She wanted this. She needed this…”

Before she could finish, Kiho’s lips brushed over hers, just a featherlight kiss that made her stomach twist with desire. His lips were soft, teasing, as if waiting for her to respond. She gasped, her body instinctively leaning into the kiss, her lips parting just enough for him to deepen the kiss.

Her hands found their way up to his neck, pulling him closer, desperate for more. The heat between them intensified with each passing second, every touch, every kiss, making her tremble harder under him. Kiho wasn’t holding back anymore. His hands roamed down her body, one sliding to her waist, the other cupping the back of her neck as he deepened the kiss.

Jihyo’s breath was ragged, her body alive with sensations she couldn’t control. Every touch from him sent electric jolts through her, making her skin burn with need. She trembled again, this time more violently, and Kiho noticed. He smiled against her lips, feeling the way her body responded to him. His hands roamed lower, sliding over the curves of her waist, the smoothness of her thighs, exploring with purpose.

In the back of the RV, Choihyuk watched, his breath caught in his throat. His eyes were wide, glued to the scene before him. He had always admired Jihyo, but seeing her like this — vulnerable, trembling, desired — made his heart pound in his chest. He watched as Kiho’s hands traced the curve of her body, feeling like an intruder, but unable to look away. His goddess, the one he had always looked up to, was here, right in front of him, being touched in a way he had never imagined.

Jihyo, completely unaware of Choihyuk's presence, was lost in the heat of the moment, her body pressed tightly against Kiho’s. His hands moved with confidence, each touch pushing her closer to the edge of control. She gasped as he pulled her even closer, his lips trailing down her neck, his hands exploring her body with growing boldness.

Kiho’s lips met hers again, this time with a fierce passion, as if he couldn’t wait any longer. He pushed her against the table, the movement so sudden that Jihyo’s breath caught in her throat. Her body felt like it was on fire, every inch of her trembling with need. And as she clung to him, she couldn’t stop herself from pulling him closer, her body responding to his touch without a single thought.

In the back, Choihyuk could only watch in stunned silence, his eyes wide as he watched the woman he admired more than anyone being kissed, touched, and desired in ways he could never have imagined.

The air in the RV was thick with heat, the moment between Kiho and Jihyo crackling with an electricity neither of them could deny. Kiho, his breath still ragged from the kiss, pulled back just enough to look into her eyes. Jihyo's lips were swollen, her breathing uneven, and it made him smile. He could feel the pulse of desire radiating off her, and it thrilled him.

"Earlier," Kiho said, his voice lower now, each word deliberate as he gently cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing over her soft skin. "When you were performing… in front of that crowd… You were incredible." He paused, his eyes darkening with something more primal. "You made them all watch. You had them all in the palm of your hand, just… lusting after you."

Jihyo shivered at the words, her body reacting to his touch, her breath quickening. "I didn't think you were watching that closely," she teased, her voice a little shaky, trying to act casual, but she could feel the heat of his gaze seeping into her skin.

Kiho leaned in again, his lips brushing the shell of her ear as he whispered, "I was watching every move you made. And they were all just there, watching you, wanting you… But only I get to touch you like this." His words were almost a growl, filled with possessiveness, yet there was something softer in his tone. Something that made Jihyo's heart race even faster.

Jihyo's breath hitched, and she closed her eyes for a brief second, feeling a mix of heat and anticipation run through her veins. She had always known the effect she had on people, but hearing it from Kiho made her feel something deeper, something she wasn’t sure she was ready to admit.

Her body responded instinctively to him. She stepped closer, closing the distance between them, and placed her hands on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath her palms. "And what makes you think you’re the only one who can touch me?" she asked, her voice a challenge, though it was laced with desire.

Kiho’s eyes darkened, and he let out a low laugh, the sound rich with a mix of amusement and hunger. "Because, Jihyo," he said, trailing his fingers down the length of her arm until they found the curve of her waist, pulling her against him with a firm but gentle hand. "I can see how badly you want it. I can feel how much you need it." His voice was low and silky, each word sending a wave of heat through her. "And I can see how you’re trembling under my touch. No one else will get to see you like this."

Jihyo gasped, the feeling of his hand on her waist sending a ripple of warmth through her entire body. The intimacy of his words, the way he saw her, truly saw her, was almost too much to handle. She tried to resist, but it was clear that Kiho had found a way to make her lose control.

"You're not just teasing me," Kiho whispered, his lips brushing over her neck as he continued, his voice like honey, "You’re letting me see all of you. And I promise, you won't regret this."

Jihyo’s hands roamed to the back of his neck, pulling him closer as she tilted her head back, giving him more access to her skin. "You think you have me figured out?" she asked breathlessly, her voice a mix of confidence and desire. "You think you're the only one who knows what I want?"

Kiho’s lips found the sweet spot on her neck, his kiss gentle, then more urgent, as though he couldn’t hold himself back any longer. "I know exactly what you want," he murmured against her skin, his hands moving slowly, possessively, up her back, inching toward the curve of her shoulder. "And it’s only a matter of time before you stop pretending you don’t want me too."

Jihyo’s body quivered under his touch, her mind swirling with desire. She could feel the pull, the growing need between them, and the way Kiho’s words — his actions — were slowly unravelling her resolve. She wanted him. She could feel it deep inside, but she wasn’t ready to fully surrender, not yet.

She leaned in, her lips brushing against his in a kiss that was slow at first, tentative, as if testing the waters. But Kiho was quick to respond, his hands sliding down her back, pulling her even closer as the kiss deepened. He tasted like fire, his hands roaming her body with an urgency that sent sparks of desire through her entire being.

And all the while, Choi hyuk remained hidden in the back, watching, his heart pounding in his chest as he saw Jihyo, the woman he had quietly adored from afar, completely consumed by Kiho. His breath caught in his throat as he saw the way Jihyo’s body responded to Kiho’s touch, the way her face flushed with desire. It was like watching his goddess being claimed, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

The air inside the RV was thick, almost suffocating, with the weight of unspoken desires. Jihyo stood in front of Kiho, her body electric with anticipation, yet her mind still conflicted, unsure of where this was headed. She could feel the heat radiating between them, a pull she couldn’t seem to escape. Her body responded to him — she could feel the way her pulse quickened with every glance, every touch.

Kiho stepped closer, his eyes scanning her from head to toe. Jihyo's skin flushed under his gaze, her body instinctively shifting, her shoulders back, subtly arching in the way she knew was most seductive. She could feel the fabric of her shirt clinging to her curves, outlining the smooth shape of her chest, her waist, and the gentle curve of her hips.

“You know,” Kiho said, his voice low, almost a whisper, “every time you move… you make it impossible for me to look away.”

Jihyo swallowed, her breath shallow, as Kiho reached out to trace the edge of her shirt, his fingers just grazing the fabric, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. The touch was light, teasing, but it felt as though every nerve in her body was awakening. She could feel his eyes on her, sensing the way he was drinking in every inch of her body, as though she was something both forbidden and irresistible.

Her fingers twitched at her sides, wanting to move, but unsure of how. She was playing a game now, a dance that she both feared and craved. The way Kiho looked at her made her feel seen — truly seen — for the first time, as though every part of her body, every curve, was something worth admiring.

“You’re so beautiful, Jihyo,” Kiho murmured, his voice thick with admiration and something deeper. “I’ve seen you on stage… but standing here, with me, it’s like I’m seeing you for the first time.”

His words wrapped around her like a silken thread, tightening, pulling her closer to him. She bit her lip, feeling both exposed and powerful. Her legs felt weak as she took a small step back, almost imperceptibly, but Kiho was quick to follow, closing the space between them once again. His breath was warm on her skin as he leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear.

“Let me show you just how beautiful you are,” he whispered, his hands sliding up to the small of her back, pulling her toward him so that she could feel the heat of his body pressing against hers.

Jihyo’s breath caught. She could feel the hard muscle beneath his shirt, his body strong and solid against hers, and it made her heart race. The tension between them was palpable — thick, electric. Her skin tingled under his touch, every inch of her body becoming acutely aware of the way he was holding her, the way he was gazing at her as if she was the only thing that mattered.

Kiho’s hands slid slowly, deliberately, to the hem of her shirt. He didn’t rush; his touch was slow, gentle, yet there was an undeniable hunger in the way he moved. Jihyo’s heart pounded in her chest as he lifted the fabric, exposing the soft curve of her midriff. She trembled, unsure whether to pull away or lean into him. Every instinct in her told her to stay, to let the tension between them build even further.

Her body responded to him, even when her mind was hesitant. She could feel the pull of gravity between them, each inch closer, each brush of his hands against her skin, only serving to make her more desperate for the next moment, the next touch. Kiho’s gaze never left hers, his eyes dark with desire, and yet there was something tender, almost reverent, in the way he looked at her.

“I know you want this,” Kiho said softly, as if reading her thoughts. “I can feel it. Don’t fight it.”

Jihyo shuddered under his words. She wanted him. She couldn’t deny it. The way he made her feel — the way he saw her — it was too much to ignore. Slowly, hesitantly, she allowed her hands to drift upward, undoing the buttons of her shirt. Each movement was slow, deliberate, and as the fabric began to fall from her shoulders, she could feel Kiho’s gaze burning into her skin.

She wasn’t sure when it happened — when she stopped being afraid and started giving into the attraction, the magnetism between them. But once the shirt had slipped off, leaving her in a simple tank top that clung to her curves, Jihyo didn’t feel exposed; she felt empowered. She felt desired, in a way that was both intoxicating and thrilling.

Kiho’s eyes darkened further, his breath catching as he looked at her body, taking in every inch of her, every curve that made her uniquely her. The way her waist curved down to her hips, the soft roundness of her thighs, the way her skin glowed under the dim light. He couldn’t look away.

"You’re perfect," he murmured, his voice thick with appreciation. "Every part of you is a masterpiece."

Jihyo could feel the heat rising between them. She was trembling, not just from desire, but from something deeper, something she wasn’t sure she was ready to face.

But in that moment, with Kiho’s hands hovering just inches away from her body, she felt something stir inside her — a desire to be seen, to be touched, to be wanted in a way that was undeniable.

ihyo’s pulse quickened with every small movement he made, every slight shift in the way he touched her. His hand rested just above her waist, fingertips lightly grazing the smooth skin of her lower back. His touch was tender, yet there was a quiet confidence in the way he caressed her, as though he already knew exactly how to make her tremble without trying too hard.

She caught her breath as Kiho’s eyes slowly traced the curves of her body. Her chest rose and fell as she fought the urge to pull away, to resist, but something deeper inside of her told her to lean in, to explore the feeling between them, to see where it might lead. She could feel the heat radiating between them, his presence so strong it was almost overwhelming.

“Kiho,” she whispered, her voice low, unsure of what she wanted but needing something. His name escaped her lips like a breath, a question and a command all in one.

Kiho didn’t answer with words. Instead, he let his hands glide down her side, his touch gentle and purposeful. He paused just below her ribs, letting his fingers lightly trace the outline of her body, feeling the softness of her skin beneath his touch. There was no rush, no need to hurry. He wanted to savor this moment, every second, every inch of her. The curve of her waist, the way her body responded to his touch, it was all so intoxicating.

Jihyo’s breath caught as he leaned closer, his lips brushing just above her navel, sending a shiver through her body. She could feel his warmth, his breath hot against her skin, but it wasn’t until his lips made contact that she finally let herself relax into the sensation. His kiss was soft, almost reverent, as though he was cherishing every part of her.

He pulled back slightly, looking up at her with those dark, intense eyes, searching for any hint of hesitation. But all he saw was the spark of desire in her gaze, the same desire that burned in his chest. Without a word, his lips found her skin once again, this time lower, pressing delicate kisses just above her waistband.

Her body responded, her muscles trembling at the sensation of his lips on her. She had never felt so exposed, yet at the same time, so alive. The air around them felt thick, the tension between them palpable

Kiho slowly grazed his fingers along the surface of her tank top, and his thick fingers circled around the thick buds that were hard like a rock, and he could feel her body trembling as her back arched, giving him the full view of her huge breasts that were renowned in the K-pop industry. He could not wait to suck on those pink buds that every south Korean men wished to.

Choi Hyuk could barely breathe as he watched from the shadows, his body tensed with raw, burning jealousy. Jihyo—gorgeous, untouchable Jihyo—was trembling under Kiho’s stubby but commanding hands, her breath hitching in her throat, her curves pressed close to him like a dream slipping out of control. She was a vision of pure temptation: her tight tank top straining over her full, perfect breasts, her toned thighs shifting restlessly, as if begging for more. Hyuk's hand instinctively moved lower, trying in vain to soothe the painful bulge growing with every second of the shameless show before him. He grit his teeth, helpless, as Kiho, emboldened by her reaction, slid his hand along her waist, looking seconds away from tearing the thin fabric away and burying his face between those irresistible mountains.

Just as Kiho’s fingers curled under the edge of her top, a thunderous knock rattled the door, making Jihyo yelp in panic. She hurriedly tugged her clothes back into place, cheeks flushed and chest heaving, and threw herself onto the seat beside Kiho, trying to look innocent even as the air around her crackled with unspent heat. The RV door creaked open slowly, and Hyuk’s heart nearly stopped.

There, silhouetted in the doorway like a goddess descending to earth, stood Momo—the only other idol who could rival Jihyo’s lethal allure. Dressed in a short skirt and a tight crop top that left little to the imagination, she stepped inside with a smile that could melt steel, her eyes sweeping over the room before settling on the guilty-looking pair. With a playful glint in her gaze, she closed the door behind her, trapping all that smoldering tension inside the RV.

That is it for part 1. Part 2 continues with sneaky actions inside the RV with Momo and Jihyo at the same time. Kiho, you lucky bastard

[xo100]

i’ve been thinking about this for so longgg

okay so basically a fic where lando and you met at a grand prix while you were doing a tour of the paddock you accidentally meet and start talking and lando asks for your number, you and your whole family have always been huge f1 fans and so you hide it from them when you start dating him but eventually bring him to meet them and it’s a big surprise and everyone is so shocked that lando is your boyfriend

Under the radar - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary/request: request by anon as you can read above this!

*:･ﾟ Word count: 1384

masterlist / community / request

౨ৎ

You were on a tour of the paddock, weaving through the bustle of teams prepping for race day, while you tried not to be overwhelmed by the atmosphere. Your family had always been Formula 1 fanatics, and being here was a dream come true. You were taking it all in—savoring every moment of walking through the garages and team areas that you'd only ever seen on TV.

Your family had been buzzing with excitement when you told them you won tickets for the paddock tour at the Grand Prix. They were envious, of course, but you had promised to snap plenty of pictures for them. None of them could imagine the turn your day would take.

As you followed the group through the McLaren garage, something—or rather, someone—caught your eye. Out of the corner of your vision, you saw a figure rushing toward you. You stepped to the side instinctively, trying to avoid a collision, but your foot snagged on something, and before you could blink, you were falling backward.

Except, you didn’t hit the ground.

A pair of strong hands caught your shoulders, and you gasped, steadying yourself as you regained your balance. When you looked up, your eyes met warm brown ones, sparkling with amusement and a hint of concern. Lando Norris.

“Are you okay?” he asked, a grin slowly tugging at his lips.

For a second, your brain went blank. Was this actually happening? Was Lando Norris—McLaren's star driver, F1 wonderkid, and easily one of the funniest guys on the grid—really holding onto you?

“I—yeah, sorry!” you blurted, trying to compose yourself, though your heart was beating too fast. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“No worries, happens to the best of us,” he chuckled, still holding onto your arms. “But I have to say, it’s not every day someone literally falls for me.”

You blinked at him, then laughed, the tension breaking. “Does that line work often?”

“More than you'd think.” He winked, releasing his hold on you, though he seemed reluctant to do so.

The tour group was already moving on, but you hesitated, still standing in front of Lando, unsure of what to say or do next.

He tilted his head slightly, noticing your uncertainty. “Are you with the group?”

“Yeah, but…” You waved a hand dismissively. “It’s fine. They won’t miss me.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by your response. “Hmm, playing hooky already?”

You shrugged, biting back a smile. “Maybe.”

“Well, if you’re gonna skip out, you might as well do it properly. Come on,” he said, jerking his head toward the pit wall. “Let me show you around.”

You blinked. “Really?”

“Why not? You already tripped into me—seems like fate, doesn’t it?” His grin was contagious, and despite the voice in your head screaming that this was all surreal, you found yourself walking beside him as he led you past the rows of McLaren engineers, their heads down in concentration, and into areas the tour definitely wasn’t going to cover.

-

The rest of the tour passed in a blur—Lando showed you parts of the garage up close, pointing out the intricacies of the car, telling you little jokes about his teammates, and talking about life on the circuit. It felt strangely…normal. The kind of normal where you could forget he was a famous Formula 1 driver and just see him as the charming, cheeky guy he was.

By the time you both circled back around to the paddock entrance, you’d learned that he loved golf, he was obsessed with video games, and he had a dry sense of humor that had you laughing far too easily.

You didn’t want the conversation to end, but you knew it had to eventually. “Thanks for, um, the tour,” you said, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

“No problem. You should come back, you know.” He paused, glancing over his shoulder toward his team, who were undoubtedly waiting for him to rejoin them. Then he turned back to you with that grin that made your stomach flip. “Give me your number.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “What?”

He chuckled softly, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. “Your number. So we can keep in touch.”

You blinked, processing what he was asking. Lando Norris wants your number? This was a conversation you were definitely not ready for. But despite the swarm of butterflies in your chest, you handed over your phone.

As you typed in your number, you couldn’t help but wonder how you were going to explain this to your family. Oh, nothing major, just met Lando Norris today…

-

You didn’t tell anyone. Not at first, at least.

After that day, Lando had texted you the very next evening, something casual about how he hoped you hadn’t tripped over anything else after you left. You laughed out loud, and your reply had been easy, comfortable. Before you knew it, the two of you were talking almost daily—texts that quickly evolved into phone calls and, eventually, meeting up at a few more races.

By the time you realized what was happening, you and Lando were dating. Quietly, but officially.

Your family had no idea.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to tell them—it was just…complicated. Your parents, your siblings—everyone in your family was obsessed with Formula 1. They knew every driver, every stat, every bit of news before it even hit the headlines. The idea of telling them you were dating an F1 driver—their favorite driver—felt impossible. You could already picture their reactions. The shouting, the questions, the disbelief.

So you kept it to yourself. For now, at least.

-

Months passed, and things with Lando grew deeper, more serious. He wasn’t just the famous driver anymore—he was Lando, the guy who made you laugh when you were stressed, who sent you goofy selfies from the hotel on race weekends, and who listened when you vented about your day. He was sweet, thoughtful, and maybe a little too good to be true.

Eventually, the time came when hiding him from your family wasn’t an option anymore. You had to tell them.

-

“I have a surprise for you guys,” you said nervously, standing in your living room with Lando by your side. You hadn’t told them yet—hadn’t explained who your ‘guest’ was.

Your mom and dad were sitting on the couch, your siblings sprawled around the living room, all eyes on you.

“What kind of surprise?” your sister asked suspiciously, glancing at Lando with a raised brow. He was wearing a baseball cap, pulled low enough that it wasn’t obvious who he was, but it wasn’t going to take long for them to figure it out.

You swallowed hard, glancing at Lando, who gave you a reassuring smile. He reached for your hand, squeezing it gently before stepping forward, taking off his cap and revealing his face.

For a split second, there was silence.

Then your dad nearly choked on his drink. “L-Lando Norris?” he stammered, eyes wide. Your siblings were frozen, mouths hanging open as they stared at him in disbelief.

“Surprise!” you said, giving them a nervous smile.

Lando, ever the charmer, grinned and waved. “Hi, nice to meet you all.”

Your family erupted into chaos. Your mom jumped up, asking a million questions at once, while your siblings started shouting over each other, and your dad was still trying to process what was happening.

“I can’t believe it,” your brother said, eyes wide as he stared at Lando. “Are you really dating my sister?”

Lando chuckled, sliding his arm around your waist. “Yep. Guess you’re stuck with me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, relief flooding through you as you realized everything was going to be okay. Your family was shocked, yes—but in the best way possible.

And as you stood there, watching Lando joke with your siblings, you realized something else.

You weren’t just dating an F1 driver. You were dating Lando, and somehow, that was even better.

౨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know! Also hey anon! If you read this, I hope that this is what you had in mind!

[fancyperfectionsweets]

☄️Astrology Observations 5🍂

🕸️ Neptune in 7th house has victim complex. More often than not, they think that they are too giving, too loyal and everyone takes and takes from them when that is sometimes not even true.

🕸️ Moon + Rahu combination can make another person super empathetic to the point that they cannot detach and work normally if something is bothering them. This is even worse if the moon is in a planet that affects personal houses like the 6th house of routines or 2nd house of money. Be careful with this combo.

🕸️ Rahu in the 7th house is clingy af and can do drastic things to keep a relationship. They have the tendency to use relationships as a self-validation tool. This intensifies if moon is not in a healthy position. They are the kind to kill themselves or harm themselves over a relationship. They need a good circle of friends to ground them.

🕸️ Jupiter in 4th houses often come from huge families that are ready to help them. Even if the person is harsh or strict, they won't be able to do that with a jupiter in 4th house kid. It's just something so "childlike" about their vibe to their family.

🕸️ ohk. It's either because my Sun is darkaraka or it's just true but people with Sun in the first house or exalted suns (aries Sun) just have my respect. They are so naturally inclined to leadership. I wish to learn from them.

🕸️ I read somewhere that while venus is the planet of love and beauty, they are very exclusionary. This is because venus is the IT girl that says "not everyone deserves me. 💅". She's luxury. Thus, venus dominant people like Osho have very mysterious auras and have "cult" like followings that have bizzare rules. I know someone who is a venus dominant nakshatra and he's very "I don't show even an ounce of what I'm" kinda person. It's honestly very fascinating. These people will only show you the real face when they feel like you "deserve" to be in their inner world.

🕸️ However, speaking of Venus. The above does not mean she cannot be obsessive and conniving. Bharani nakshatra men, especially, I've noticed are very meticulous and have an attention to detail. This nakshatra comes up again and again in men who stalk women and basically become obsessed quickly. They are not even apologetic about it. They feel they are sort of way entitled to "their chosen women" and it's ohk to tresspass boundaries.

🕸️ venus + mars is a super comfortable placement for relationships in my opinion. Venus is the vibe you exude. Mars is your passion so this is what you chase. Thus, you like people back who like you and vice versa. You know the people who always pulled the people they wanted? Yeah. Probably mars + venus. However, it can be a painful placement because love burns deep for this person and if it fails, it can affect their self esteem.

🕸️ 6th house stelliums have this natural tendency to be pessimistic.

🕸️ Jupiter in the first house is usually never seen as "too much" but for some reason, an exalted Jupiter in 4th house/cancer is. A jupiter 4th house is full of optimism and it can piss off people. Y'all slay though. ❤️

🕸️ I've never met an Aries 4th house (Cap rising) or a Scorpio 4th house (Leo rising) have amazing relationships with their families. If your moon and Sun are strong, your parents may be supportive but your extended family will definitely be then out there to get you.

🕸️ watched nosferatu and it reminded me of Lilith synastry 😭. I bet nosferatu's lilith conjunct lilly rose-depp's character's first house/venus/moon/sun because he was so obsessed with her. I'm also thinking 12th house synastry because he kept manifesting in her dreams and she kept him hidden from her husband. Also, she's definitely jupiter ruled and nosferatu represents ketu because he just took and took from her till she fucking died. In that way, she fulfilled Jupiter's theme of sacrifice. Sacrifice is associated with Neptune in western astrology. But, it rules over Pisces whose traditional ruler is Jupiter. So I think this kinda goes.

Fin❤️

[thesirencult]

What Will Your FS Love About You?

Pile 1

9 Of Cups, 5 Of Cups, The Magician, 6 Of Swords

Channeled Songs: I wanna be with you-DJ Khaled, Positions-Ariana Grande

My dearest one,

You are a tiny bit dramatic, aren't you? You have attachment issues when it comes to your person. You want them around all the time as they are wish that came true out of seemingly nowhere! You would jump through hoops for them. I'm getting the image of someone cooking, doing laundry, plucking their eyebrows, hitting the gym all for their person. Like, your person is your INSPIRATION+MOTIVATION to live a specific lifestyle! Your person adores your innocent heart and your personal evolution.

You might have met your person duriong a period of emotional turmoil. You could have been closed off or emotionally unavailable the period you met them. You guys could have also gone through a period of separation because you couldn't confront your feelings for them or "expose" your true self.

Your person admires the way you bossed up and went after them. You are whipped, they don't ahve to worry about you cheating or leaving them. You have invested into them and the marriage in a tangible way (cars, houses) and a spiritual/emotional way. The way you treated them from the first month of your relationship made them made you a priority. I think that this person wouldn't even know what you went through to "get them". During a period of a couple months in your life you totally dedicated yourself to this cause, you bettered yourself for this person, for your person, not out of despair (well, at first it could have been that lol) but because you realized ytou belong to them and they are your soulmate and your doorway to a higher path.

Your FS will love how you aren't repressing your emotions anymore and how you opened your heart up to love even though you were jaded. You've been brave and that makes them want to take care of you. You passed all the tests with flying colours. When you are married to them you will be in the energy of a master manifestor. This is what those 2 months taught you when you were trying to better yourself. They taught you how to manifest and be intentional. Your FS is very proud of you and the way you overcame your past wounds and tumultuous childhood. Before you guys tied the knot they noticed you had an awakening and elevated yourself to get to their level rather than taking the path of least resistance. You worked on yourself and your connection.

You never had a hard time asking for help from them and they love how you innocently ask them questions or want their input. It's not that your person likes the way you depend on them, it's just that they love how much you cherish and value them, to the point you let them guide you and baby you.

Choosing you was choosing joy and playfulness, you may think they were your dream person but your FS manifested you into their lives and intentionally chose you because of your kindness and pureness. You are very greedy when it comes to them and they enjoy slapping your hands away and teasing you. They never get tired of your jokes or childish antics, they get entertained by them. They will love the look of frustration when you are fixing something and how you look at them with those big sad puppy eyes. They love making your eyes light up with excitement and hearing you yap on the phone after calling them for the tenth time from work to ask what's for dinner or another mindless question, just to hear their voice or talk to one of the kids (all excuses to talk to them).

Your FS will not love you for commiting to them but for commiting to a harder path that led to your evolution in this lifetime <3

Pile 2

9 Of Wands, 2 Of Pentacles

Channeled Songs: You Da Baddest-Future, Diamonds-Rihanna, Down In The DM-Yo Gotti, All Eyes On You-Meek Mill

Your FS loves that you are unbothered, authentic, inspiring, influential, a tiny bit b*tchy and a menace to society (quietly).

This person will feel like they are always HIGH around you. You are protective over them and loyal to a fault. I'm hearing love at first sight, a diamond that is forever. You are a sun ray in their life, a natural beauty. Your hair is bouncy or *other areas* lol, you could also have a bounce in your step and this person will love that.

Your person knows you are someone who could get with anyone and there are times they do not feel like they can keep you. They will feel very lucky you chose them (simp). They will want to show you off cause they consider you OUT OF THEIR LEAGUE. Other women/men are jealous of you and men/women are fighting over you. Your FS considers you a MAN SNATCHER if you are a feminine, hahaha. You are a rare commodity (YAS QUEEN).

Also, a bit freaky energy here, your person will love how you text, if you get my drift and also how wet you are during sexy time! They are saying "it's your world, I'm just living in it!"

You might have an hourglass figure and they are drooling over that and they also love how you look during the summer! You are a leader, always in the driver's seat especially when it comes to the relationship. They also admire your mindset because they know what it took for you to get here. You are an equilizer, resilient and pushing through obstacles. You have a "never give up" attitudeand you always strive to show up as your BEST SELF. You are graceful and adaptable.

You might have long curly hair is what I'm hearing and they will find it so beautiful when it cascades down your back all natural. You look LOVELY when you get out of the shower is what they are saying. Expect frequent kisses and foot rubs, lmao!

[dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling]

Huge thanks to hattiemagix for commissioning this!

Doey & motherly fem reader

★ When Doey first met the reader, he was immediately wary of her. Her kind nature was unfamiliar and he couldn't tell if it was an act or not, it made him suspicious. Even though he liked it when you were around he tried to keep his distance. Can you really blame him? He’s met a lot of people who’ve pretended to be nice, only for them to end up hurting him. 

★ Doey tested the reader's boundaries to see if her kindness was genuine. Slowly challenging her patience. "Let's see how long she can keep this up," he thought, observing her reactions closely. Shurely she would slip and show her true colors. 

★ Even though it was a tad annoying, you were still patient with him. You never raised your voice or showed anger, even when he was acting difficult. Whether it was explaining something for the hundredth time or dealing with his defensive attitude, you remained steadfast in your kindness. 

★ He started to realize that the reader genuinely cared for his well-being. Something he’s not at all used to. Doey never expected to meet someone, an ex-employee no less, who would try so hard to make him feel safe. He misses having someone to look after him, it's been so long, he almost forgot what it's like to be cared for. 

★ After that he quickly got used to you, your presence became a comfort. As the days in the factory slowly passed he grew even closer to you. Soon enough he started seeing you as an adoptive mother. But he decided to keep that to himself, for now at least, he wouldn't want to make you feel uncomfortable.  

★ If anything were to happen to you, he would be devastated. If you need to leave the Safe Haven, Doey becomes visibly anxious. He begins clinging to you, reluctant to let you go. He asks you to make a promise to stay safe and be careful. The thought of losing you fills him with dread."Promise me you'll be careful, okay? I need to know you'll come back safe” 

★ After defeating the Doctor and the Prototype you bring him, and many of the other toys, home with you. Because of course you had to bring Kissy, Poppy and those who called the Safe Haven home out of the factory where they were starving. 

★ Doey feels a mix of emotions—relief, uncertainty, and a bit of excitement—as he steps into the reader's home "This is... home?" he asks, looking at the various objects you have hung up and strewn about. “Of course” you declare, looking at him as he turns his head. Doey’s expression unreadable, “that is, If you want it to be.” you quickly add. 

★ And of course he stays with you! Where else would he go? He's so attached to you he couldn't imagine living anywhere else. By this point, it was clear as day that he needed you around. The way he beams when you compliment him or how he always lingers by you gave it away.

★ After spending the past 10 years in the abandoned shell of a factory, Doey is very eager to make up for lost time. He's really excited to try something new. You take the opportunity to teach him various domestic skills. His new favorite thing is baking with you!

★ He still has nightmares about the factory. When Doey wakes up from a nightmare he's immediately disoriented and filled with fear, the trauma of the factory still lingering in his mind. His breathing is heavy and a sense of panic is overwhelming him. His panicked cries always wake you up.  

★ You’re quick to comfort him, rushing to his side and hugging him close "It was just a bad dream. You're okay, and nothing can hurt you here." your gentle touch helped to ground him, "It's okay, Doey. I'm here. You're safe now." it's working, because now his cries have dissolved into a quieter whimper.

★ To help Doey calm down, the reader reaches for his favorite book, "The Adventures of Word Wizard." She knows how much the story means to him and starts reading aloud, her voice steady and comforting. As she continues, doey feels his eyelids grow heavy. 

★ Just before he falls asleep, Doey murmurs softly, "Goodnight, Mom." The reader smiles softly, her heart melting from Doey's words. For the rest of the night, he sleeps soundly, knowing he's safe and cared for.

[leahsgf]

— SUPERSTAR

leah williamson x teen!reader | masterlist

⤷ you finally get called up to the senior squad - only to feel completely out of your depth when you get there

୨୧

you hadn’t spoken an awful lot since arriving at camp. in fact - apart from the expected, friendly hello’s and the odd word uttered in the heat of a drill, you hadn’t said anything. certainly not because you didn’t want to - everybody had been exactly as you had expected, incredibly welcoming and kind - but more so because you didn’t know how.

this was the lionesses. the team you’d dreamt of playing for ever since you were a little girl, and the only girl on your school team. even back then, when you were combining football boots and princess dresses- this had always been your goal, one that you had pushed yourself to your absolute limits to reach, and you’d finally made it - against all odds.

except - you had spent so long trying to make it that you never considered what what happen if, when you did. and even now that you were here, you weren’t entirely sure that you belonged, or deserved it.

everywhere you looked, no matter where you were, in every training session, every team meeting, even in the physio’s office - there were world class players, who worked and gelled together perfectly, whilst laughing and joking like a family. they belonged here, they had history here.

and whilst you were expecting to feel like an outsider when you weren’t in the team - nothing could’ve prepared you for feeling it whilst you were in the team. a moment that you had worked your entire life for, that should be like a dream come true - instead feeling like you had been catapulted into the deep end with no armbands as everyone watched you drown from the sidelines.

-

as well as you thought you had hidden your inner turmoil, people noticed. in fact, most of the girls did - being naturally all very overprotective of the younger ones (even the ones who struggled to make eye contact with any of them and barely uttered a hello. especially those ones)

leah had been the first by miles to pick up on your quietness. as the captain, she was almost annoyingly observant, and over the span of a few days had realised that it may be a little bit more going on with you than just the expected shyness - something that sitting next to you at breakfast, or passing to you a tad more in training could resolve. she picked up on all of your behaviours, even the ones you hadn’t realised yourself. when you hung back from the group as they walked in from the field, when you bit your lip and hesitated before speaking, your voice cracking softly when you did so, every time you forced a smile, whilst peeling the skin off your fingers and looking like you were on the verge of tears.

she saw it all - every time.

so when you silently disappeared from training, it wasn’t at all shocking that leah was the first to notice.

“anyone seen y/n?” she frowned as she frantically scanned the pitch, it deepening as you were nowhere to be seen.

“she was in the gym inside last time i saw her, maybe she’s still there?” mary replied, mirroring her captain’s expression, as she took a swig of her drink.

the blonde nodded and turned on her heel after promising mary she’d keep her updated on your whereabouts. completely unbeknownst to you - you were a common conversation point within the more senior members of the team, all of them wanting to help you feel like you were welcome and at ease there.

as she made her way towards the gym - worries swirled around her head. something didn’t sit quite right with her about your absence. you were always visibly nervous, you had been since you arrived, but above that you were diligent, never one to miss drills or slip away like this unnoticed. and you had been extra tense all morning - something she had intended to pull you aside to check in about, having not said a word the entire day, only giving out a few tight lipped smiles and nods.

her concerns only deepened as she entered the near silent gym - and realised it was empty. usually, she would be celebrating an empty gym, making the most of it before the chaos that was the rest of the team arrived - but this was a different kind of feeling. one that made her stomach tighten.

she saw an awful lot of herself in you, and that paired with the little bits of information sarina had been allowed to tell her about your background, made her feel the need to be overly protective over you - in an almost older sisterly way.

leah continued to make her way across the room, leaning to check the gaps in between machines and past the stretching mats - just in case.

just as she was about to leave and call for whoever you call when your nineteen year old teammate vanishes into thin air - she heard it. short, uneven, almost gasped breaths, and muffled sniffles, getting louder the further she went.

she found you curled up, practically in a ball against the furthest wall - hidden away, your knees to your chest, and your hands trembling, gripping the cuffs of your sleeves in a somewhat attempt at grounding yourself.

and she could physically feel the way her heart clenched.

“hey, hey” she said softly, practically a whisper, crouching down a comfortable distance away from you, wanting nothing more than to pull you into her arms - but not wanting to startle or upset you even further. “it’s okay, you’re okay.”

your head snapped up at her words, like a deer in headlights - your teary eyes widening, filled with panic. “oh god i-i’m so sorry, i just-”

“you don’t have to apologise, not at all.” she interrupted your ramble - voice gentle. “can i sit?”

you hesitated, before giving a small nod, so small in fact that if her eyes weren’t currently piercing through you, she probably would’ve missed it. she shifted so she was sat cross legged in front of you - a little bit closer but still giving you space.

and for a brief moment, the only sound was your shaky breathing.

“do you wanna tell me what’s going on? i’m here to listen.” she asked, breaking the silence - no pressure behind her words, just simply opening the door for you.

“i- i just….don’t think i fit here, at all” you admitted through choked sobs, sniffling softly - your voice barely audible. “everyone here is incredible - and i’m not good enough, i- i thought i could do it but i can’t. and w-what if i mess up, and everyone realises it too?”

leah exhaled softly - her heart breaking at your words. “oh mate. i get it, trust me. i really do.” she murmured, her expression warm as she made eye contact with you for the first time.

she shifted so she was sat beside you now, looping an arm around your shoulder and easing you into her side gently.

you frowned to yourself, looking up at her through blurry eyes. “but, no. you’re- you’re leah williamson. you’re the captain, one of the biggest players in our game. you’re meant to be here - you are a huge part of what ‘here’ is.”

she chuckled in response, shaking her head lightly as she rubbed your shoulder reassuringly. “you think i’ve never felt like this? trust me, i have had my fair share of ‘i don’t belong here, i shouldn’t be playing football, my world is ending’ moments” she said - tilting her head, and reading your expression like a book.

“but let me ask you something - something i always ask myself when i feel like this - who here, today told you that you weren’t good enough?”

you swallowed harshly, choking back a splutter in response as you register the fact that she’s right.

“um- nobody, i-i guess. not really.”

“right. so, that little, nagging voice in your head? it’s lying to you.” leah shifted again, leaning forward slightly, holding eye contact as to really get the message across. “you’ve not only been called up, which is a huge thing in itself, you’ve been admired by each and every person here - we’ve been watching and waiting for your moment, and are overjoyed that it’s finally here. you’re incredibly talented - and you do belong here. nobody hands out lionesses call ups for nothing. you’ve earned this, kid. give yourself that credit.”

you wipe your eyes, her words beginning to sink in, although still tangled with a cloud of doubt. “i just don’t want to disappoint anyone.”

your words trail off at the end of your sentence, but the captain, your captain - hears them clear as day, and she softens even more. “listen to me, okay - and you can trust that i’m being honest, ask anyone hear and they’ll take the mick about how serious i am with everything. you’re new, yeah. but that doesn’t , and will never mean that you’re alone. we’re a team, and that means we’ve got you. no matter what - you could score five own goals and get a red card tomorrow and we’d still back you. i promise you.”

your lip trembled, more tears slipping down your cheeks as you nod. leah, without hesitation pulls you into her arms, sensing that you could really do with a hug - and not being able to bear seeing you so upset without comforting you any more.

“you’re safe here, promise.” she said firmly, stroking your back gently, and almost rocking the pair of you. “i’ve got you - always.”

she remains like that for what feels like forever, grounding you and whispering words of reassurance until a shaky breath slipped your lips as you nodded, finally starting to believe her words. “thank you. i, um. i needed that.”

“come on then superstar - let’s show the world what you’ve got.” she helps you up and links your arm in hers, giving you a reassuring nod and smile as you both make your way back out to the training field.

“and please don’t actually score five own goals and get a red card - sarina would kill me.”

-

feeling incredibly rusty with writing currently but i have revamped my page + am getting back to it!

and what better way to chuck myself in the deep end other than starting up a new series :’) i hope you love it as much as i do

- el x

[hwnglx]

pick a pile - what makes you attractive?

welcome back lovely reader! let's take a peak into what makes you so attractive. breathe slowly, take your time and use your intuition to go with the pile that speaks to you the most. remember to take what resonates, and leave what doesn't. 𓆩♡𓆪

˖ ࣪ ⊹ ꒰ঌ pile 1 ໒꒱ ⊹ ࣪ ��

you're attractive, in the way you're interested in creating these meaningful and emotional connections to people.

you aren't the type of person who feels the need to place yourself above anyone, in order to feel good about yourself. your desire for balance and harmony in your relationships makes you highly attractive.

the way you're able to put yourself in other people's shoes, and approach them with empathy, is wonderful. you give them this precious feeling of being understood.

you're a person who has very comforting energy, and a soothing effect on others. someone who brings the calm after the chaos, and hope into situations that seem lost.

spirit keeps showing me this image of a bandaid.

your attractiveness lies in your gentleness. in your ability to mend and heal.

the fact that you've been through so much, but this inner spark of hope inside you still remained bright and dazzling in the end, makes you very special.

it's likely that a lot of you aren't fully aware of this, but your existence is dazzling, and extraordinary in many people's eyes.

you stand out. you're unique.

there's something about your presence that shines differently, compared to the people around you. it's almost like a butterfly that can't see the beauty of its own wings.

i believe a good amount of you, have gone through your own losses and heartbreaks in the past.

it's likely you went through different cycles, and various impactful stages in your life where you were forced to adapt and adjust. unexpected situations which caught you off guard and resulted in you needing to pick up the pieces by yourself.

but the way you've been able to bounce back, and still find this inner courage to keep going, despite the hurt, is impressive.

i believe you've come to a point where you've been able to move away from that state of sorrow, and turned it into something that fuels your power.

your ability to bravely deal with the things that life unexpectedly throws you head on, makes you very attractive.

you still have a more sensitive heart, and your core will always be a little soft and sweet deep down; but your character has gained a lot of strength throughout the years.

this is something you radiate to the outside now. your inner power makes you incredibly attractive.

you look at the things you've been through till now, as experiences which have shaped you immensely, and turned you into the person you are today.

a lot of you are also likely to be outspoken, and pretty straightforward. you like getting to the true core of topics, and aren't afraid to voice things others might shy away from.

your attractiveness lies in your ability to balance these two coinciding sides in you; one that is full of empathy, warmth and a kind heart, and one that is self-sufficient, ambitious and courageous.

˖ ࣪ ⊹ ꒰ঌ pile 2 ໒꒱ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

you're attractive, in the way you relentlessly work towards fulfilling your own dreams and goals.

you're willing to put in consistent effort, in order to build yourself the dream life you desire so badly.

i just don't see you liking to rely on anyone else to do the work for you. you're very self-sufficient, and recognize that in order to get to a place of satisfaction and contentment within yourself, you have to be the one to make the effort. there's nothing like enjoying the fruits of your own labor.

a lot of you are very sure of what you want for yourself. some of you might actively manifest, by imagining and picturing how you want your life to be.

creating moodboards on pinterest or something. creating folders of style inspiration, or interior design inspirations. this is how i want to be dressed, this is the place i want to live in.

you're not gonna be someone who throws the towel and gives in, just because someone else might label your dreams as impossible, or unrealistic.

it's almost like you'll tell them “well, i'll show you then”

you have high aspirations, standards and expectations towards yourself, as well as others, which makes you even more attractive.

you just do not settle for anything less than what you want.

people can't get to you too easily. you're guarded and careful about who you let in closely.

many people are likely to look at you as a person they can't quite decipher or fully figure out at first; someone whose facade they'd like to look beyond.

the fact that you aren't an open book who's constantly accessible and available twenty four seven, makes you highly attractive to others. you cautiously keep them at an arm's length, and people might have to work for your attention.

there might even be some people envious of you.

envious of the fact that you're so self-reliant, independent, and in no need of anyone's help or guidance in life.

and although you give off a more detached and colder vibe to some people on the outside, people who actually know the true you, are aware of how sweet and empathetic you can in fact be. you just have a genuine heart deep down.

you're likely to be someone with a lot of depth and layers, and the closer people get to knowing you in your entirety, the more they get to see of your more complex, introspective and sensitive sides.

you might be much more emotional, romantic and dreamy than what meets the eye at first; and this is likely to draw a lot of people to you.

like “wow, i didn't know you had this side to you”

there's this type of reversal charm, where you might pleasantly surprise some people with how soft you can actually be at times, compared to the first impression they had of you.

some of you might literally have an rbf, but a beautiful smile that brightens and lights up your face in a whole new way.

you also give me very very creative energy. i feel like you love to express yourself beautifully, in many artistic ways. and you see art as a way to live out your most authentic self.

˖ ࣪ ⊹ ꒰ঌ pile 3 ໒꒱ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

you're attractive, in the way you lead with your heart.

it's likely that you're a person who nurtures a strong connection to their vast and rich emotional world. you're someone who genuinely cares.

like.. i don't think you even know how to just not care about things, and go through life in a nonchalant “meh” way. most of the time, you're very chalant. (ㅜ same!)

this makes you much more attractive than you might realize.

you can easily get emotionally invested in plenty of your endeavors; whether that's your relationships, the choices you have to make, the different situations life throws in your way.

you feel everything in a deep and profound manner, and this makes you unique.

reason why i believe you might not be fully aware of this, is because you seem to have the tendency to see yourself as more lacking than you actually are.

you're likely to be a person who's very humble at their core. an eternal student of life.

someone who tries their best to grow continuously and better themselves through every situation they get confronted with; especially the disappointments, regrets, losses.

you're eager to pull the lesson out of every experience in life, and sincerely want to learn from your mistakes.

despite criticism hurting you sometimes, you're still trying your best to improve yourself through it all.

this hard-working, grounded, down to earth and modest energy makes you incredibly attractive.

i think you're slowly but surely trying to let go of certain limitations you habitually set yourself till now. you might've felt trapped in your mind and stuck for a good while, but you're progressively coming out of that place.

despite the exhausting struggles you've been through till now, you're still standing strong!

your endurance, resilience and inner strength makes you immensely attractive.

yes you're wounded, yes you don't see yourself as perfect, but you're still ready to fight. you are a true warrior.

even with your naturally modest character, i don't see you as a person who allows people to step all over them anymore. you're starting to learn to be more strict and clear with your boundaries.

people might see you as someone who's becoming more guarded and closing yourself off, but to you, it's what's necessary to protect yourself.

you're attractive in the way you're becoming more and more aware of your true worth and your value.

you shouldn't let people look at your inner softness as weakness anymore.

on the contrary, it makes you incredibly strong and attractive, if you confidently embrace that side of you. i can see you stepping into your true power, once you learn to acknowledge your qualities more.

it's very likely for the things you yourself see as your downfalls, to be your actual strengths. you might just see yourself in a negative light way too quickly.

for example, your emotionality and sensitivity doesn't have to be a flaw. it can be your asset. it makes you special.

not everyone is capable of emotional connection the way you are. not everyone has the ability to be so genuinely loving, caring and sincerely empathetic the way you are.

don't constantly see yourself for what you aren't, for what you lack, for what you can't do. but see yourself for what you are and what you have, what you can indeed do!

note; i was definitely the most passionate about this pile because i have to admit, i relate so much 🥹 sending you all my support and hugs sweet reader

[padmerry]

Ford & Stan: bravery and heroism

This is going to be about Stan’s vs. Ford’s types of heroism/courage. More specifically old Stans. I want to focus on the period at which they’ve already matured and already gone through and survived the worst of their lives. Them at their bravest, you could say.

I’m going to start with something a tad (or very) controversial. Among my Gravity Falls merch, there’s my sticker album. This is how they describe Ford (translation below) 👇

“Differently from his twin brother, [Ford] is valiant, intelligent, and has six fingers.”

“Valiant” is basically a fancier way to say “brave,” so... yeah.

The friends I’ve showed this to were indignant on Stan’s behalf. My album was being unfair to him! And yes, I agree. If Stan wasn’t brave, he wouldn’t have faced Bill alone. And regarding his intelligence—Alex has commented before that all four Pines are quite intelligent, just in different ways. Mabel, for example, has much more emotional intelligence than Ford. But I digress. That isn’t the subject of this post.

The thing is: I wasn’t very surprised about Ford being considered more stereotypically intelligent than Stan. Ford is, after all, a recognized genius, of a very obvious sort. His nicknames go from “IQ” to “Brainiac.” But Ford being considered braver than Stan... where does that come from?

Certainly, old Stan has never behaved in a cowardly way in situations where Ford in his place would never, right?

Or perhaps... perhaps he has.

Meanwhile, Ford was doing a Ford-core speech about the true meaning of being a hero.

Was this an exception to the rule? Or the norm?

Looking at Stan’s and Ford’s expressions as Probabilitor the Annoying appears, probably the norm.

Or Stan’s behavior in these self-explanatory moments from the comics:

“But,” you might say, “Stan had so many brave moments too! Against the zombies, against Bill!”

Yeah! He sure did!

But what did all of those badass moments have in common?

Ah, yes! His family—mostly Mabel and Dipper—being in any kind of danger and/or needing his help.

In fact, what I found hilarious about the very first moment, with Waddles, is that he started off as a complete coward. The same kind of man who ran away screaming from the goat. Attempting to sacrifice poor Waddles while he hid beneath the mushroom, survival instincts kicking in. But if it truly concerns Mabel’s happiness? And, let’s be honest, Waddles’, because he does have a soft spot for the pig? Then he finds it in himself to face a dinosaur!

Waddles knows how he works, hahah.

Stanford Pines, meanwhile, is a different breed of dog.

When in danger, his first impulse doesn’t seem to be fear, but pure, unbridled rage.

That’s pretty much his default mode. Ford has a classic, very obvious type of bravery that is easily identifiable as such. I could keep giving you guys examples, but if you’ve watched GF or read Journal 3 at all, I won’t need to. I think it’s self-explanatory given that this guy wanted Dipper to suppress his fear by focusing on his intellect:

To him, emotions are a weakness. They hinder his clear thinking. They need to be suppressed.

I also find it fascinating that he canonically endured insane levels of torture at Bill’s hands. He was emotionally, psychologically, and physically abused—Bill manipulated and deceived him, haunted his dreams, controlled his body like a puppet, threatened to commit suicide with it, hurt it all over to the point of giving it bruises, used it to ruin his reputation with the townsfolk, tattooed it without his consent, made his eye bleed, drove a nail through his hand, made him eat live spiders, pulled his bones out of their sockets, threatened to erase his memories, messed with the meaning of words in his brain, hunted him down, humiliated and mocked him publicly, turned him into a golden statue, electrocuted him—overall violated his consent and bodily/mental autonomy in horrific levels and subjected him to excruciating pain. And yet, every time he faces Bill, he faces him with impressive courage, always confrontational, always resolutely angry. He never wavers in that anger, not even for a second.

Ford’s biggest moment of fear as a lone hero, even if brief, was when Bill threatened him with, “I’ll make you talk! It’s only a matter of time,” before beginning the very torture pictured above.

That’s still him being courageous, of course. Courage is not the absence of fear, but doing the brave thing despite the fear, and we watch him resisting Bill’s torture resolutely after that.

Remember, though, how I said Ford conducts himself as if emotions are a weakness? Despite all of Ford’s bravery and resistance, Bill is right when he tells Ford, in that very scene, “Everyone has a weakness, tough guy!” Because what finally, finally breaks Ford is to see his family—the most important people in his life—in danger.

It’s the same old weakness Bill used against him in TBoB, calling Stan’s number to threaten suicide in Ford’s voice—the one thing that made Ford say, “But then [Bill] crossed a line” and “No. [Bill] wouldn’t,” in despair, even after all the terrible things Bill had done to him.

In this sense, Stan and Ford are perhaps opposites of each other. Look at how, even though Ford looks defeated here, Stan’s expression hardens in the second gif—with determination.

Look, too, at how Ford looks away, how his hands shake when he has to erase Stan’s memories, the sacrifice that Stan is making so stoically, due to his feelings for Stan:

(Read this meta, if you want, for more on how this must have been terrible for Ford.)

Why do I say Stan is making the sacrifice so stoically? Why does he acquire this look of determination as Ford is hopelessly planning to give himself up to Bill? Well, Alex seemed to imply in the commentary of Weirdmageddon 3: Take Back The Falls something I already believed to be true: that it was Stan who offered himself up/volunteered as the one to have his memories sacrificed to save all their asses, not Ford who suggested it to him. (“And even though it’s Stan who agrees to—‘I’ll be the one! Erase my mind! It’s fine. It’s worth it.’—like, it’s a sacrifice for both, like, Ford at this point is willing to get his brother back and has to lose him again.”) Stan shines when his family is in danger!

Meanwhile, when does Ford’s brand of bravery shine the most? I think it’s telling that, despite the jokes about Ford being a damsel in distress, you still have a man who survived thirty years completely alone in the multiverse while having a bounty of an entire galaxy on his head. In a way, I think Ford is way more in his element, so to speak, when he’s his own company, he’s the only one in danger, and he just has to take care of himself. He’s the lone hero, after all.

Even with Dipper, before whom he peacocks by showing his more cavalier side, sometimes to the point of recklessness (according to Alex and Rob Renzetti in the DD&D commentary, Ford would never act that irresponsibly around Stan), he seems to get hindered by his responsibility to care for his nephew, as it was shown in Dipper and Mabel vs. The Future with their fight against alien technology. The robots wouldn’t even have been activated, after all, if not for Dipper’s adrenaline levels.

Stan, on the other hand, is at his core a family man. He will make himself brave even in occasions he wouldn’t normally be, for his family! All for his family!

In the commentary of Not What He Seems, Alex and Matt Chapman point out the badass side of Stan:

Alex Hirsch: When I saw the storyboards, they managed to make Stan this awesome action hero while still keeping him Stan. [...] He steals a wallet, he smashes somebody against the wall, he sasses him but he also has this just great Inception moment, and it’s because we’re building to a big question about “who is Stan?,” I felt a moment of seeing him be kind of awesome further increases your “who is this guy?,” right? He keeps going back and forth between like “oh geez my back” and you’re like “all right that’s the Stan I know” and then like “whoa, he just did an awesome jailbreak! Is he some kind of super villain? Who is he really?”

Matt Chapman: And in Scary-oke early on too, you know, you get to see Stan—the street-fighter in Stan come out too.

Alex Hirsch: There’s more of Ford in Stan than I think Stan realizes. I think it only comes out in certain moments.

Stan’s badass moment in NWHS was, too, in service of his family, particularly one member: Ford. Stan needed to escape the agents, to ensure that the portal was fully activated and successfully brought Ford back. He needed to be there for Ford. The “Ford in Stan” that Alex mentions does come out when Ford himself was in (perceived) need of Stan.

If Ford’s bravery (or at least his suppression of fear) comes from focusing on his intellect, as he advised Dipper, Stan’s bravery comes from the opposite thing: focusing on his emotions, on his feelings for his family. Ford might be right about emotions being a weakness, but they are his weakness. They are Stan’s strength, in the same way their loved ones are Stan’s strength and Ford’s weakness.

At the end of the show, Ford learns that Stan has been so terribly brave and noble and saved the world for the sake of those feelings. That is part of the weight that Ford’s “You’re our hero, Stanley” carries.

Hopefully, by the end of it all, Ford has come to a place where, despite not regretting his previous mindset, he sees both emotions and people as a valid source of strength!