#not just different from what we are doing right now. but different from what we have been doing for the past centuries

[dollfacefantasy]

caleb x fem!reader

you and caleb used to play fight a lot, but things are different now that you're older

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, fauxcest, dry humping

a/n: um hehe just a small drabble cause i've been thinking... also i like the pipsqueak thing idgaf kiss me about it. imagine this takes place when she’s staying with him.

"isn't this around the time you'd usually cry mercy, pipsqueak?" he breathes, his smooth voice warming the air next to your ear.

a small grunt escapes you as you try to lift your arm to shove him off. your effort is pointless though. his grip tightens around your wrist, and he brings your limb back down to the floor without much effort.

“caleb, quit it!” you whine.

he just laughs at you. his body doesn’t move away an inch. he stays right where he his, hovering over your smaller frame.

the two of you used to play fight all the time as kids. you’d squabble over the remote or your toys. whiny arguments would morph into a small scuffle, a test of wills. so it felt natural today to lunge at him when he held the book you wanted to read just out of reach. getting physical made sense. you’d been so agitated with him keeping you here, you needed to blow off some steam. it just didn’t feel so good when reality set in as he wrestled you down to the floor like always.

“it’s not funny,” you say and try to jam your knee up into his abs.

he dodges the move and continues to smirk at you. “maybe not to you. but it’s pretty funny from up here. pretty cute too,” he teases.

you scowl, squirming some more. in your younger years, you’d always been able to fight back a little. you’d lose in the end, sure, but victory had been in reach a few times. now, caleb is stronger. he’s bigger, and he doesn’t fight like a scrappy high school kid but rather someone with training. you’re starting to realize you have no chance now, and part of you wonders if you ever did. or maybe he’d been going easy on you.

as if to taunt you, he slides your arms up above your head and grabs both your wrists with one hand. even with his other one free, he keeps you pinned with the same amount of force. it’s fucking humiliating. you feel your cheeks starting to heat up as he drags the back of his fingers along your jaw, cooing at you.

“you always used to get so angry like this too. so frustrated. you’d think you would’ve learned not to start fights you can’t win,” he mocks.

his thumb comes to sweep along your cheekbone, back in forth in slow strokes. he stares into your eyes while he does, almost studying you. it gets you heated for a whole other reason you don’t even want to acknowledge.

“get off of me,” you squeak, your voice much less aggressive now.

“maybe i will if you beg enough,” he taunts, “if you use your manners and say please like a good girl, i’ll consider it.”

“shut up!” you say. you kick a few more times and buck your hips to try and get loose.

in response, he grabs your hip with his free hand and slams it back to the ground. you let out a little growl, assuming you’ll have to restrategize. but then he pushes his pelvis down on top of yours.

you gasp. all the fight leaves you in a harsh blow because now, unlike any of the other times you play fought with him, you feel a solid bulge pressing between your legs.

your eyes widen, and you sputter. you’re sure you look totally stupid right now. but you don’t know what else to do. there’s no question about it. he’s got a boner, and he’s rubbing it right up against you.

“i told you. you’re not gonna win. might as well surrender,” he says. he speaks in a completely even tone, as if nothing is different.

“c-caleb. what are you doing?” you start, “don’t be weird.”

“i’m not being weird,” he defends with feigned innocence, “we always used to mess around like this. what’s got you all shy now?”

you know why he’s asking. because he knows you won’t say it. the answer is so easy, yet you can’t bring the words to leave your lips.

“you know what,” you whine softly.

he chuckles and leans in even closer to your face. “maybe i do. but i don’t think that it’s weird. we’re not kids anymore. you can’t whine and wriggle around like that and expect me not to react,” he murmurs.

your heart beats harder in your chest. you can feel every thump. before you can say anything in return, he grinds his hips again, rolling his hardened length right up against you. and this time, it feels good.

“i- caleb- we can’t,” you whimper, biting your lip.

“we can’t? we can’t what? we’re not doing anything,” he says before grinning at you, “it doesn’t count if it’s over the clothes.”

you want to smack him, but both your arms are still immobile.

“it’s still weird. we’ve never- i don’t see you like this,” you insist, though the last statement is a complete lie.

he tsks and shakes his head before pushing his erection between your legs for another time. this one draws a whine out of you. his hips jump forward at the sound, but he doesn’t let his face show that burst of desire.

“what do you see me like then?” he whispers.

silence fills the air between the two of you as you fail to answer. you know what you see him as. you know your crush on him goes back years. you know what fantasies fill your head at night when you’re alone.

but you also know how you want to see him. what you’re supposed to see him as. what you’ve tried to limit his role to for so long.

“it’s ok,” he finally says, “i won’t make you say it if it’s that hard. but i know you like this. i know you, remember?”

he grinds against you again, but this time it’s not only once. now he sets himself into a rhythm, consistent swings of his hips against your center.

“i know when you’re happy, when you’re sad, when you’re ashamed,” he says, “i know when you want something, but you’re too scared to ask.”

ducking in, he kisses your neck. you moan in response, putting no effort into suppressing the noise now.

“that’s right, princess. your big brother knows you better than anyone, doesn’t he?” he coos mockingly.

“caleb!” you whine. you internally cringe at both titles, but outwardly, your face still contorts with pleasure.

“what?” he laughs, “that’s what you were gonna say before, wasn’t it?”

“but i didn’t,” you whimper.

“but you thought it, and it’s all the same to me,” he teases.

he refocuses his mouth on your neck again. his lips move over the column of your throat while his cock continues pressing right on your pussy. it feels better by the second. maybe it’s because he’s kissing your neck too, you’re not really sure. all you know is the hot, sparkling feeling in your stomach is building.

nipping at your pulse point, he then sucks on the skin like he wants to leave a mark. his tongue laves at it for a few moments before he pulls off.

“i’m gonna let go of your arms. you’re gonna behave, ok?” he mumbles against your skin.

“mhm,” you whimper and nod. the overt submission feels pathetic, but losing the feeling of him would be even worse.

“good girl,” he praises.

he keeps his word and releases his hold on your wrists. the air feels cool on your skin that’s all warmed up from his hands. now with his other arm in use, he can snake one around your ass and boost your hips. the new angle allows him to thrust against you harder.

“fuck, baby,” he grunts. you feel his lashes brush your neck as his eyes flutter.

your arms loop over his shoulders, pulling him impossibly closer. more little mewls spill from your lips. you can feel his stiff length sliding right up against your folds through your clothes. every swipe brings a blissful burst of friction to your poor throbbing clit.

“there you go. i got you. big brother’s got you,” he mumbles mindlessly. he chokes out a moan into your shoulder as his hips move like they have a mind of their own.

your body starts to squirm more. that hot feeling inside is reaching a boiling point. you clutch at his shirt, your nails digging in so hard they threaten to tear the fabric. the constant push and pull of his lower half is nearly hypnotic. it seems like you’ll be under him forever while also on the brink of letting go.

after a few moments more, he pulls back to look at you. his eyelids hang low, heavy with his desire for you.

“god, you’re so pretty. so fuckin’ beautiful now,” he says and presses his forehead to yours. his eyes shut while your breaths mingle. “i knew you wanted this too. just look at you. almost falling apart, and i haven’t even really touched you. i knew no one else could do this better.”

all you can do is whimper softly and cling to him harder. you pull on him as if trying to pull him into your body, to meld your two beings into one. the pressure down below feels dull and muted, but it’s blooming nonetheless.

“yeah… you’re gonna cum all over your pretty panties,” he mutters, “get ‘em all nice and wet so i can have some fun with ‘em later.”

“caleb…” you whine, useful words falling out of your grasp in this moment. one of your hands flies up and laces in his hair. your fingers clench into a fist, giving the strands a sharp tug.

he groans and bucks his hips extra hard. “c’mon. cum for me, baby. let me make my sweet little angel cum,” he murmurs.

it really doesn’t take much to get you there. the friction burn he’s rutting you both into works, and you feel yourself hit the high. euphoria rushes through you. a little breathy whine erupts from your lips. your back arches off the floor, but he keeps you cradled against him securely.

the whole time you’re cumming, he’s still humping you like his life depends on it. it’s when you start to come down, that he finally explodes. he buries his face in your neck, letting out the loudest moan you’ve heard so far. his arms tighten up around your frame as his fingers dig into your malleable flesh.

his hips jolt forward in random twitches now, chasing the last remnants of release while he spills inside his pants.

when he’s done, his breaths are harsh and labored. he nuzzles the crook of your neck before kissing your cheek and receding off your body. his palm runs over his face lazily.

“fuck, i gotta change now,” he says, not bothering to look down at the dark patch at the front of his pants.

without even really thinking about it, you reach forward for the waistline. you’re already craving more of him. but before your hand can get there, he takes your wrist.

“not so fast, pipsqueak. i think you should actually beat me before i let you have the real thing,” he smirks.

[dduane]

I have been trying to write fic (well, smut) set in a world where certain things are slightly different to serve the fic's plot.

However, each time I try I have run into a problem: my head insists I need to justify the changes - I need to know comprehensive details about how the world works so I can ensure everything is consistent and not too f'd up.

So I get bogged down, and don't write a word. What do?

In your position, I’d sit down and write myself a bible.

This is how I did my prep for Barbie: Fairytopia.* And how I’ve done it for various works of fic presently on AO3… and how I’m doing it right now for the new Sherlock Holmes and the Giant Rats of Sumatra III project. I was taught this art by my animation story editors at Hanna-Barbera, and it’s stood me in good stead. (Peter and I pulled down our first miniseries assignment from a company that told us “we gave great bible.” And that was true.) 😄

When I say “bible” I don’t necessarily mean something that thick! (Though some of mine have been pretty hefty, with one TV project’s bible running more than a hundred pages… because I knew I had skeptical and underinformed TV execs to convince about something historical.) For the kind of purpose we’re describing here, your prep bible could be quite short: maybe looking like a bullet-pointed “shopping list”, five or ten pages long. It can be just as long or short as it needs to be to cover all your salient points.

The idea is simply to put down, in concrete form, a list of the main “different things” you need to know and remember about your alternate universe when you’re working in it. This is where you do your justification work, in as much or as little detail as you need to convince yourself you’ve got the necessary bases covered. The virtual “stage manager” who sits at the back of the theater of the Writing Department in your mind, judging when things are right, will be your guide here, and will advise you as to when you’ve got enough and it’s time to stop. And once this stuff is down on the page, you’ll be a position to judge critically whether everything makes enough sense to work with, and slots together correctly.

This is also a bit like (for the prose part of a project) outlining, in that it’s incredibly freeing. Once you’ve got this background nailed down, you know you can safely turn your attention away from it and get down to the serious business: drama, and the character interactions that express it. (And inevitably as you’re doing the bible writing, you start getting ideas for how the substrate you’re laying down is going to affect the conflicts between and among the characters. The bible stage can be incredibly fruitful this way.)

It would be facile to describe the bibling process as “getting the easy part over with first”. Because sometimes it’s not easy! But it’s worth doing first, because having done this first relieves you of the ongoing anxiety caused by knowing you may have to keep inventing or rationalizing stuff on the fly. (Which can produce the kind of micro-blocks that a writer can generally really do without.) …Not that you’re not going to be inventing things on the fly anyway: that’s a normal part of the writing process. But the biggest and most obvious issues will have been handled already, and you’ll know they have; which is always a weight off one’s mind. And the fewer of those weights you have loading you down, when you’re in the midst of the labor of composition, the better.

Anyway, give it a shot and see how it works for you. And then you can, like the rest of us smut writers, get on to the really pressing business: making sure you haven’t lost track of where all the characters’ arms and legs (and things) are when you’re writing those hot steamy sex scenes. 😏

Hope this helps!

*ETA: My remit on this job did include creating a bible for them. But I write a rough-draft one for myself first, including various meta that I needed but they didn't.

[punkshort]

Swept Away: Season Two

Chapter One: Long Time, No Sea

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: You and Joel return to Fiji, and Tommy gives you the grand tour of the new hotel.

Chapter Warnings: language, fluff, wedding talk, smut (18+ MDNI), airplane sex, unprotected piv sex, light dom vibes, fingering, food and alcohol consumption, brief mention of OC substance abuse, possessiveness

WC: 6.7K

Series Masterlist

Eight Months Later

You breathed in a deep sigh as you scrolled through your emails in the back of the town car. It was pitch black outside as Richie drove you through the silent streets of Los Angeles to the airport, where Joel's private jet awaited your arrival.

"Don't be checkin' work now," Joel scolded from beside you. When your eyes shifted to him, you scoffed when you saw him doing the exact thing he told you not to do. He glanced up when he heard the noise and smirked.

"I got a company to run. You can relax a few hours til people are awake."

You rolled your eyes, chalking your attitude up to three hours of sleep and very little coffee, then stuffed your phone in your bag.

"It wasn't work, anyway."

"What was it?" he asked, sounding distracted.

"Wedding stuff," you shrugged, letting your gaze drift out the tinted window.

Joel put his phone in his lap and turned to you. "Nadia's buggin' you at this hour?"

Nadia was the highly recommended, very expensive wedding planner Joel had hired. She was wonderful: she had been in the business over ten years and had incredible taste. The problem you kept running into was the fact she was so goddamn detailed. She wanted your opinion on every possible thing, even down to the napkin rings, giving you at least ten different options, most of which looked exactly the same to you.

"I don't think she ever sleeps," you joked.

"What's she askin' 'bout now?"

"Fonts for the menus."

Joel shot you an incredulous look and you giggled. "It's a lot of work planning a wedding for over three hundred people."

"And you're doin' a great job," Joel assured you. "I'm sorry I haven't been able to help you more. I'm gonna be better-"

"No, no, it's fine," you said, cutting him off. But Joel shook his head and pocketed his phone before holding out his hand and wiggling his fingers.

"I'll pick the font. Lemme see."

"You want to pick the font for our dinner menu?" you squeaked. He grinned and nodded, hand still outstretched.

"Can't be that hard. Feels like somethin' I could handle."

You hummed and pulled your phone back out so you could bring up Nadia's email with the attached samples, then handed it over. You bit your lip when Joel squinted and tucked his chin into his chest before relenting and pulling out his glasses.

"You didn't need those to read your emails?"

"I need 'em 'cause all these damn fonts look exactly the same, baby," he murmured while his eyes scanned your screen for a few minutes. Finally, he huffed and shrugged his shoulders before picking one and holding it up. "How's that?"

"Edwardian Script," you read from your phone, then nodded. "Sure. I'll send it back to her."

"Unless you like somethin' else," he began.

"Nope, I love it," you told him as you typed out your reply to Nadia. Then you tucked your phone away and looked at him. "Besides, none of it really matters. I just want you."

Joel smiled and lovingly pinched your chin. "You got me. Always did." Then his lips brushed softly over yours and for a moment, all the stress that had been building up from work and wedding planning melted away.

"We're here, sir," Richie said from the front seat. You pulled away and peered through the front windshield at the dark tarmac where only Joel's plane sat, all lit up.

"You ready to open this damn hotel so we can have ourselves a wedding in a couple months?" Joel asked softly, fingers still stroking your jaw. You grinned and nodded before planting one more kiss on his lips.

"I'd marry you right here at the airport," you said, making him smile wide, "but Fiji does sound a little better, I guess."

Richie parked the town car and immediately jumped out to open your door. You took his hand and thanked him, shouldering your bag while Joel scooted out behind you and shook Richie's hand.

"Keep a good eye on the place."

"Will do, sir."

You threw your arms around Richie's neck and thanked him again with the promise to bring him and his wife something back from the island, then eagerly took Joel's hand so he could lead you to the plane.

A feeling of déjà vu came over you when you greeted the familiar looking pilot and crew. A lot had changed since the last time you found yourself boarding Joel's private jet to head off to paradise. You entered the cabin and dropped your bag on the couch with a tired sigh, hoping that this trip would be a lot less stressful than the last.

It was very early and you were beyond exhausted, so once the plane took off and you got the all clear to unbuckle your seatbelts, you made a beeline for the bedroom to curl up and rest. With a loud yawn, Joel followed, which was how you found yourself intertwined hours later.

When you cracked open one eye, you could tell from the beam of light desperately trying to break through around the circular covered windows that it was later in the morning. The sun had already risen high enough in the sky for it to be bright enough to wake you. It wasn't something you were used to; sleeping in. Even on the weekends, your body was so used to waking up that by seven at the latest, you were tossing and turning. But if you thought you were bad, Joel was worse. He was normally up before the sun. By the time you made your way downstairs, he was typically just leaving the home gym or eating breakfast. So to have him wrapped around you from behind still snoring softly in your ear while the sun shone brightly in the sky, your instinct told you to savor it.

You closed your eyes and leaned back into his hold, burrowing into his chest and soaking up his warmth. With the chaos of the wedding planning and the hotel on the brink of opening in just two weeks, life had been hectic. It was nice to have some time for just the two of you.

It was so peaceful, you nearly found yourself drifting back to sleep, but then you felt Joel's beard tickle your neck. Half a second later, he inhaled deeply and his arms flexed around your middle, tugging you slightly closer. A satisfied groan rumbled in his chest when he woke up enough to remember where you were, and then his lips grazed the side of your neck.

You giggled when his beard dragged across that sensitive spot behind your ear and you felt him smile against your skin.

"Mornin'."

You shuddered at his thick, sleep addled voice. "Good morning," you said sleepily. Your body felt boneless, muscles perfectly relaxed. "How much more time do you think we have?"

With a heavy sigh, Joel rolled back to tap a button on the nightstand behind him. Like magic, a small television quietly emerged from the depths of a dresser situated across the room. Then the screen lit up, showing a tiny airplane arcing over the ocean. On the side of the screen, stats were listed, including how much time was left on your flight.

"Got eight more hours," he said before pressing a soft kiss against your throat. You smiled and closed your eyes when his arms wrapped around you once again, pleased he wasn't in his usual rush to get up and check his phone. But then his hips bumped into you, giving away his arousal, and it dawned on you why he wasn't in a hurry that particular day.

"Do you have any ideas on how we can pass the time?" you asked breathlessly. His fingers began to toy with the hem of your sweatshirt, making you squirm under the covers. Without answering, his hand disappeared up your front. He slid slowly across your belly until he was cupping one breast in his palm, causing you to sharply suck in air through your nose when his thumb brushed over your nipple.

"No bra?"

"I had just rolled out of bed, remember?" you whispered. Joel made a pleased noise behind you before switching to your other breast.

"Can't wait to see you in those bikinis again," he said softly against your ear.

"You see me in bikinis all the time at home," you gasped, eyelids fluttering as he continued to tease you underneath your sweatshirt.

"Ain't the same. You're different at the beach. More relaxed." His lips grazed your shoulder and you whined. You hadn't even realized you were rolling your hips into his as he flicked and rolled your nipples until his other hand flattened out across your stomach to stop you. "You want it bad, huh?" he teased.

You pressed your lips firmly together and nodded. A sigh of relief broke free when he slipped his fingers past your waistband, dipping experimentally through your slit.

"Shit," he hissed, "you do want it bad."

"Joel," you moaned, hand reaching behind to curl around the back of his head. He slipped two fingers inside you, earning a gasp from you both, then slowly began to stretch you open. Every time he withdrew his fingers, he slid them up to your clit, circling it wetly once or twice before diving back inside. As the pressure between your legs grew, each leisurely swirl and thrust pushing you higher and higher, you began to search for his mouth over your shoulder. His lips collided with yours, tongues tangling messily in between your shared moans within the stillness of the cabin.

"Oh, that's it," Joel crooned against your mouth. Your hips were bucking into his hand, chasing your high with little moans that kept getting louder the faster his hand moved. "Give me one, then I'm gonna fuck you so good, you ain't ever gonna wanna leave this bed."

Your orgasm slammed into you, causing your back to arch away from his chest. There was something about the possessive tone in his voice, the authoritative command, assuring you he knew you better than you knew you. He knew what you liked and he knew what you needed. His steady hands were always in control, in every possible way. You loved taking care of him, but you'd be damned if you didn't love it when he took care of you, too.

When he felt your muscles relax and heard a contented sigh leave your lips, he was on you in the blink of an eye. With one quick roll, he had you face down. He reared back and tugged your pants down your legs, tossing them onto the floor before sliding your sweatshirt over your head while you just laid there, still soft and pliant from your climax.

His hands wrapped around your hips, pulling them up while your chest remained pressed against the bed. All at once, he slid his cock inside of you with a heavy groan. You had expected him to fuck you just like that: face resting on the sheets, ass up in the air for his taking, but to your surprise the flat of his hand pushed your lower back down to the bed.

A question formed on your lips but never reached the light of day because he began to move, destroying any chance at finding your voice. His legs bracketed yours, which had been pushed together and stretched straight underneath him, leaving just enough room for his cock to slide in and out of your cunt.

A strangled moan pushed itself past your lips, getting lost in the soft bedding. Joel flopped down, pressing his chest against your back, forearms planted on either side of your head. The angle was so intense and it was nearly impossible to move from the way his body formed a shell around you. All you could do was lie there and take it. Your fingers curled around the plush comforter while his hips rocked against you at a torturously slow pace, forcing you to feel every inch as he murmured filth into your ear.

"How's that, huh? Feel good? This what my girl needed? So full'a me, bet you feel it in your throat." His teeth sunk into your shoulder, pinching your skin at the same time as a particularly hard thrust. It finally made you cry out loud enough that it had him chuckling in your ear, "Flight crew's gonna hear."

It was the last thing on earth you cared about. The only thing that mattered, the only thing that existed was Joel and what he was doing to pull unfathomable amounts of pleasure from your body.

"S-so go-od," you stammered, eyes rolling to the back of your head while Joel continued to fuck you deeper than he ever had before. You must have looked like an absolute mess. Hair tangled from sleep, now spread out across your pillow in every which way. Eyes all glassy, jaw hung open while you struggled to breathe beneath him, but it wasn't his weight that was stealing all the air from your lungs. It was the slow drag of his cock, forcing you to just lie there and feel.

"I like you like this," Joel rasped in your ear. He began to move a little faster then, hips shifting and angling in such a way that it had your vision blurring and your pulse skyrocketing. "Can tell nothin' else is goin' on in that pretty head other than how good it feels when I'm fuckin' you. Am I right?"

You nodded while lifting your ass just the slightest bit. All you could smell was his skin, all you could feel was his warmth, all you could hear was his deep voice telling you how beautiful you were, how hard you worked and how nice it must feel to just relax and let him take care of you.

His palm slid across the top of your hand so your fingers could lace together, but when he felt the sharp sting of your engagement ring between his fingers, he smirked and started to fuck you a little harder. He fucking loved seeing that ring on your left hand again, but loved it even more that you wore the second ring on your right finger. Call him possessive, crazy... whatever, he didn't care. It could not be any fucking clearer who you belonged to now.

Just then, the airplane hit a small patch of turbulence. The shifting in the cabin caused him to drive his cock deeper inside you, making you gasp and cry out his name.

"Shh, baby," he chuckled, but he kept moving. Your other hand reached back, grabbing a handful of his messy curls, tugging him down into the crook of your neck. His mouth immediately got to work, sucking and biting at the skin there until he left little bruises.

It was overwhelming, to say the least. He was everywhere. His body completely covered yours, trapped between him and the bed, cock buried so deep you weren't sure you would be able to walk out of the room when he was done. And just when you thought you couldn't take any more, his lips left your neck to find your mouth, plunging his tongue past your teeth with a groan you felt vibrate against your back.

Your entire body began to shudder when you felt it. That pool of pleasure that had been slowly filling back up was about to overflow. You tried to warn him, but words were hard to come by. Fortunately, his mouth was still seared over yours when it happened.

You might have said his name, or maybe you were just cursing, but either way you knew you were definitely screaming because by the time your orgasm finished crashing over you, your throat felt raw and you were panting for air against his mouth like you had just run a marathon.

"Good girl," he whispered before lifting his head back up. You were grateful for it, the chance to breathe fresh air even while he rammed into you mercilessly for about thirty more seconds, until his body went rigid and he gasped your name, spilling himself deep inside you.

Joel pulled out and sat up, causing your eyes to widen from the sudden loss, and he flipped you back over. His hand caressed your face gently, swiping away tears you didn't even realize were there, as he examined you closely.

"You alright? Was it too much?"

His chest was heaving and his cock was still hard between his legs. He hadn't even given himself a chance to enjoy his release and soften inside you before checking on you.

"I'm good," you rasped, throat still hoarse. Your shaky hand came up to cup his. "Promise. I'm good. Just - holy shit," you whispered, letting your eyes slide closed so you could melt back into the mattress. Joel laughed once he was satisfied you were telling the truth and collapsed next to you.

"You hungry?" he asked casually while unplugging his phone. He bent one leg as he studied the screen, completely naked and unbothered while you were still waiting for your limbs to stop shaking.

"Where on earth do you find the energy?" you asked. His eyes found yours and he shrugged.

"I slept in."

You scoffed and shook your head in disbelief before turning to sit up and gather your clothes. "I'm gonna go wash up," you told him. He made a little noise of acknowledgement as you staggered into the bathroom. When you caught sight of your reflection, you twisted your face in disgust and began to quickly get to work, hoping to make it look a little less like you just had the life fucked out of you before entering the main cabin.

Since you were only a few hours away from landing, you decided to slip on the white linen dress you had picked out. With two fucking rings on your hands, you decided to keep accessories to a minimum and instead just slipped a pair of sunglasses into your purse for later before timidly opening the bedroom door in search of Joel.

As you expected, he was sitting at the table typing away on his laptop. You frowned when you saw he had changed his clothes to a casual short sleeved button down and relaxed khakis.

"Didn't you want to take a shower first?" you asked, sitting across from him. He smirked and shook his head, eyes still glued to the computer screen.

"Nope."

His gaze lifted quickly and he shot you a wink. You laughed and dug around in your duffel bag for a book to read, deciding work could wait.

"What's the plan when we get there?" you asked, leaving your worn paperback on the table in front of you, then reached for a cold bottle of water from the cup holder by the window.

"Tommy's meetin' us at the airport," Joel said, abandoning the keyboard and leaning back into his chair. "He's gonna take us to the hotel. Ain't ready for guests just yet but we're gonna stay in the presidential villa. Wanna take her for a test drive, see if anythin's missin'."

"So, we get the whole hotel to ourselves?" you asked, wiggling your eyebrows. Before Joel could respond, a flight attendant emerged from the galley with two plates of covered food. You both made room on the table and she placed them down in front of you.

"Is there anything else I can get you?" she asked.

"No, we're all set," you said, looking up to give her a friendly smile. Joel agreed and she quickly made her way back into the kitchen, and it was only then you realized she had been unable to look either of you in the eye.

"You don't think they heard us, do you?" you whispered. Joel had already begun eating, but around a mouthful of chicken he gave you a look and slowly nodded.

"You weren't exactly quiet, baby," he reminded you.

Your eyes widened and your face instantly grew hot. Pressing your palms against your cheeks, you shook your head and groaned.

"Oh my god, tell me you're joking."

Joel just laughed and took another bite of food. "None of their goddamn business, who cares?"

"I care!"

"Then next time I'll just have to put somethin' in that pretty mouth of yours to keep you quiet."

Your ears burned and you gently swatted at him from across the table, making him laugh. It was sweet, really, to think about the last time the two of you were on his plane heading to Fiji and how different Joel was now. Before, he was gruff and very serious, entirely focused on business and not at all interested in having any fun once you arrived on the island. To see him now with a smile on his face and wearing casual clothes in place of a stiff suit made your chest swell with happiness.

"Have you heard anything from Sarah?"

"Not yet, but I warned her I'd fuckin' know if she had any parties while we're gone," he said, then checked his phone for any possible missed calls or texts from his daughter.

"Joel, she's seventeen and she's got a whole mansion to herself for the next two weeks. She's going to have friends over."

"Friends is one thing, but I ain't havin' any boys sniffin' 'round her in my own house while I'm gone," he said sternly. You hid your smile behind your fork, secretly adoring the way Joel had become so paternal in the past year. "'Sides, she ain't alone. I got staff there 'round the clock keepin' an eye on her and the place."

Joel and Sarah's mother didn't have a very pleasant history. After he discovered she had gotten pregnant, she tried to bait him into marriage just so she could have access to all of his money. Joel broke things off with her and closed himself off emotionally for over a decade. He ended up having a difficult time maintaining a relationship with Sarah, as well, but after some encouragement on your part, they reunited. Progress was slow at first, but you didn't expect anything less. Then Joel found out Sarah's mother struggled on and off with substance abuse, something that kept him awake more nights than you could count. After a particularly long night of Joel tossing and turning, you suggested asking Sarah to move in with the two of you, and while it took some time to get used to a third person in the house, you noticed Joel immediately started sleeping better. Sarah still visited her mother often, occasionally even staying overnight for a weekend here or there, but Joel's mind was at peace knowing she was safe.

"Alright," you said, folding your hands on the table after your plates were cleared. "So Tommy's taking us to the hotel - then what?"

"Was gonna have him show me 'round, check on all the progress, see what need's doin' 'fore next week."

"Next week? The hotel doesn't open for two weeks," you reminded him. He shook his head and glanced at his phone when a notification popped up.

"Soft open is next week, so we only get the place to ourselves for a few days," he said, then cocked an eyebrow before adding, "think you'll be able to behave yourself?"

"Me?" you sputtered with your hand pressed to your chest in mock offense. "I'm an angel, I have no idea what you're talking about."

Joel chuckled and turned his attention back to his laptop while you stared out the window, lost in thought.

"So are my parents staying at The Parador?"

Your parents, who had never left the mainland United States, agreed to a vacation only after they found out all expenses would be paid when you made your plans to return for the grand opening. He had told you at the time he thought your mother would want to be involved in the wedding planning, but you had a sneaking suspicion it was his way of trying to score some points with them.

When you told them the news about your engagement, they were shocked, to say the least. It wasn't the reaction you were hoping for but to be fair, you had hardly given them any time to come around after you had begged your mother to give Joel a chance. Since your big news, they hadn't come out to visit once and any time you brought up wedding plans over the phone, your parents got very quiet before ultimately changing the subject to something else.

Joel shook his head. "Booked 'em a nice villa at The Sapphire. Didn't want them to put up with the growin' pains from a new staff. Wanted 'em to be comfortable."

You studied him from over the top of his computer, heart breaking a little bit at the tone in his voice. He didn't like to let it show, but you could tell it bothered him. Part of you wondered if he booked them a trip so he would get a chance to get to know them better and change their minds.

"That was thoughtful," you said softly. Joel just grunted and continued to work, so you stretched your leg out under the table, nudging his knee with your foot to get his attention. When his eyes flickered back up to you, you tilted your head to the side and said, "It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks, you know. I'm the one spending the rest of my life with you - not them."

The corner of his mouth twitched and you smiled when he said, "I know. Just want them to know how much I love you, is all."

You knew Joel could come off a little brash at first. Hell, your first impression of him wasn't the best. In fact, it took some time before you could see past that hardened, cutthroat businessman exterior to who he really was underneath.

Although... when Joel met your parents, you saw with your own eyes how hard he was trying. He was warm and inviting the entire time your parents were in his home. Their standoffish behavior didn't make much sense, but you chalked it up to the abundant displays of wealth combined with losing their only daughter to an entirely different lifestyle as their reason, and knew deep down that one day they would understand why you fell in love with him.

"Thought your folks were joinin' us, sweetheart," Tommy said from the driver's seat of a beat up work truck.

"Not for a few more days," you replied, tightly pressing your lips together to keep yourself from squealing when Tommy took a sharp, bumpy turn. Joel was in the backseat next to you, hanging onto the door for dear life. If there wasn't a rip in the leather digging into the back of your thigh, you would have laughed at the expression on his face. The old Dodge truck was a far cry from the luxurious town cars or any one of the hideously expensive vehicles currently in Joel's garage back in L.A.

"Aw, that's nice. Got any plans?"

"Uh-" you squeezed your eyes shut when Tommy hit a pothole, then took a deep breath. "Yeah. I was going to take them into town to eat one night, and show them around The Parador so they could see exactly what it is I'm spending all my time on," you laughed. Joel shot you a quick smile before furrowing his brow when Tommy ran a stop sign. "Maybe see if they'd want to do jet skis or check out the fire dancers. I was gonna leave it up to them, but I know they want to do their own thing, too."

"And they'll be plannin' the wedding, right?" Tommy confirmed, quirking an eyebrow at you over his sunglasses in the review mirror.

"Oh, yeah, duh," you laughed, "that, too."

Tommy grinned and dropped an arm out his window, letting his fingers dance on the warm breeze as he drove up the service road behind the hotel.

"Front's just been paved, don't wanna drive on it just yet," he explained when Joel began coughing from all the dirt kicking up.

Finally, he threw the truck into park, the radio and air conditioning cutting at the same time so you could now hear the distant shouts of workmen and power tools coming from inside the hotel.

"Alright, brother... you ready to finally see what all your money's gotten you?"

Joel kicked open his door and slid out, then turned to extend a hand for you.

When you exited the truck, the first thing that struck you was the sheer size of the resort. The parcel of land Joel bought from Glenn was almost ten acres of literal paradise. Through the massive glass windows that were installed practically everywhere so the guests could enjoy the view, no matter where they were. Amongst all the natural foliage, you knew somewhere was a lagoon that had a lounging area built around it for guests, along with four climate controlled pools and six different restaurants, all of which offered outdoor seating. In addition to all that was a private beach, a tennis court, a handful of manmade waterfalls, and a golf course.

And all of that was just the outside.

"Better be good. Those purchase orders were lookin' mighty pricey the past couple months," he grumbled. You squeezed his hand and smiled up at him as you followed Tommy up to the back entrance of the hotel, your excitement contagious and causing Joel to crack a smile of his own.

"Forgot how damn hot it is here," Joel said, wiping sweat from the back of his neck. Tommy twisted around to hold open the door and stepped to the side, allowing the two of you to enter first.

"You're in luck. AC was turned on last week."

The hotel was two weeks away from the grand opening and one week away from the soft opening, so when you entered the lobby, it was far from the construction site you had remembered from previous video calls. Joel had come out by himself a few times, but you hadn't seen the hotel unless it was through a screen. You realized quickly the videos and pictures didn't do the place justice.

"Two story lobby," Tommy said, pointing up like you could somehow miss the massive, sparkling chandeliers hanging above your heads. "Front desk is tucked into the side next to the doors so the guests experience the beauty of the place right off the bat, 'stead of starin' at a desk with computers, just like you said," he continued as he lead you further into the space. Joel nodded and slowly looked around, examining every sconce and white marble tile for any defects while your fingers trailed over the textured bronze wallpaper lining the entire entrance.

Tommy continued to talk, pointing things out and searching for Joel's approval: the deep teal couches and chairs that scattered around the room. The tropical looking café set across from the front desk that carried more blends of coffee than Starbucks. The spotless white flooring and countertops. He even showed you the bathrooms, making sure everything was perfect and up to Joel's standards.

When Tommy finally saw his brother crack a pleased smile with a firm clap on the shoulder, his face lit up with relief.

"Y'did good," Joel told him before releasing his grip and spinning back around. His next order of business was to introduce himself to the hotel staff, who were all adorned in pressed black pants with a matching black shirt that had a flare of deep teal on their breast pocket which matched the lobby furniture. You smiled to yourself as you followed Joel's lead, shaking their hands before stopping in the kitchen to meet more employees. All of the hard work he had put into this hotel, his dream, was actually paying off.

Afterwards, Tommy led you up to the presidential villa, which was in it's own private wing. While you rode the elevator, he explained how each room had a balcony, two flat screen televisions, pillowtop mattresses, blackout drapes, a safe, and a small kitchen area.

"And that's just what all rooms got standard," Tommy said once he stepped off the elevator and fished out the keycard they handed him at the front desk. "'Course, there's different levels, y'know that."

You and Joel exchanged looks behind Tommy's back while he unlocked the door to your room. Obviously, you knew all of that - especially Joel. He was the one who had final say over every detail. But hearing how excited and proud Tommy felt kept either of you from saying a word.

What surprised you first when you entered the villa was, even though you had taken an elevator up a few floors, you still found yourself looking out at the beach through the spotless glass windows. Tommy said something about a hilly terrain being the reason and how much of a pain it was to build around it, but you hardly heard a word because your eyes were drawn to the huge painting hung behind the soft, white couch. It was an exact replica of the painting Joel had bought you the last time you were on the island. Ellie's familiar brush strokes of soft pinks, blues and whites filled the canvas. You laughed in disbelief before you rushed over to examine it closer, then glanced happily over your shoulder at Joel, who stood back with his hands shoved in his pockets and a pleased look on his face.

"Was hard to keep it a secret but I wanted to surprise you."

You jut out your lower lip and held out your hand for him to join you, your expression softening when you heard the shy tone in his voice. Tommy was across the room, opening up the big glass doors to let in the sea breeze when you took Joel's hand and stood on your tiptoes, giving him a kiss that had his cheeks turning pink.

"I love you," you whispered when you fell back onto the flats of your feet. Tommy began fiddling with the remote for the stereo, talking to himself while Joel gazed down at you adoringly.

"I love you, too."

A year and a half earlier

It had been almost a month without you, but it felt like more. Every breath hurt, he could barely sleep, and forget about focusing on work. It was supposed to be the highlight of his career - obtaining the unobtainable parcel of land in Fiji. Yet he couldn't enjoy it, because his every waking thought was consumed with you.

It was even worse being so far away, back on the island where everything started and ended. Yet he still made sure to pick out the next day's floral arrangement to be sent to your door. It was the only way he could remind you that he was thinking of you, even though you had begged him to stop, he wouldn't, because it was the only way to make sure you didn't forget about him.

Once he picked the arrangement, he emailed it to Liam and with a sigh, dropped his phone onto the table next to his lounge chair.

The sun was beginning to set; casting gorgeous hues of bright orange, pink, and yellow across the sparkling water.

You would have loved it.

He figured it was now or never, so he shucked off his shirt and made his way to the shoreline.

Just like he remembered, the water was warm and crystal clear. He submerged himself up to his shoulders and allowed himself to close his eyes for a moment. No matter how hard he tried to relax and enjoy himself, his inner turmoil kept his muscles tense and his mind busy. Why did he have to be such an asshole? Why couldn't he had just spared you both the pain and gotten over his bullshit? You hadn't asked him for much. You just wanted to be let in, you wanted him to trust you with his deepest shame and regrets. But his fear of being judged and losing you was too much.

Ironically, he lost you anyway, so what was the point?

The waves lapped gently over his shoulders and the sound of people packing up their things on the beach drifted across the breeze. He wondered what you were doing at that very moment. Given the twenty hour time difference, it would be around bedtime for you, but the day before. He liked to imagine you getting ready for bed, putting all those different creams on your face and neck before brushing your teeth. He hadn't ever seen the inside of your apartment, so all he could do was remember how you looked getting ready for bed when you stayed with him on the island. You used to hurry into bed and dive under the covers to curl up against him. He smiled to himself at the memory, missing how unexpectedly comforting your presence was to him at night.

Maybe you missed it, too. Maybe you missed it right at the exact same moment.

When he reopened his eyes, the sun had sunk considerably lower and the beach was mostly empty, so he got to work. He walked slowly through the water, using his feet to search for the precious pink seashells to replace the ones he accidentally broke. Every few feet, he felt a cluster of smooth shells with the tips of his toes. It took almost ten minutes, but he finally was able to collect a decent amount. He waded back to shore, arms full amidst the twilight. Once he got back to his towel, he noticed a good portion of the shells were broken or cracked. He tossed those into the sand, only keeping the ones that looked absolutely perfect.

When he was satisfied, he wrapped them carefully in a spare towel and collected his things before heading back to his room.

He wasn't stupid. He knew seashells wouldn't fix everything. But he was hoping the gesture was enough to show you how much he cared.

Maybe it was a start.

Present Day

Joel trailed after you as you drifted from room to room, then grinned when you squealed at the master suite, which was right off the sitting room. He hadn't told you yet, but the presidential villa was going to rebrand into the honeymoon villa. He had created it with you in mind and based on the way you were jumping with excitement when you saw how a private garden and a courtyard filled in on either side of the glass walls surrounding the spa bathtub, he did a good job.

"Joel, this room is insane," you grinned. He stood next to the tub while you skipped down the galley-like closet until you reached the opposite side, turning around in the entryway of the bedroom and bathroom.

"You like it?"

"I love it!"

Joel smirked and nodded before strolling past the tub, into the bedroom. You followed on the other side, staring in awe at the floor to ceiling glass French doors that opened out to the infinity pool.

"I can't believe we get to spend two weeks here," you breathed. Joel walked up behind you, bending so he could hook his chin over your shoulder and wrap his arms around your waist.

"We can come here any time you want."

You giggled when his stubble brushed over your skin, tickling you.

"How about we come back here in a couple months?" you asked, leaning into his hold and letting him sway you back and forth. "Maybe get married or something?"

Joel chuckled into your skin, giving your shoulder a kiss.

"There's nothin' I want more."

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[usernamesarehard1]

So the US government is now trying to erase any mention of trans people in history, and label anything lgbtqia+ as "lgb".

They've done shit like this to many different websites over the past few weeks. This isn't even the first one.

And they're just gonna keep doing it.

This is what a dictatorship looks like.

This is what fascism looks like.

Everyone who said we were "overreacting" and voted for trump despite us warning them time and time again that this was going to happen can all go straight to hell.

That's what privilege is. It wasn't their rights at risk so they didn't fucking care.

We WARNED people and they didn't fucking listen.

And now the government is trying to crush the very mention of trans people existing from all parts of life. JUST LIKE THEY'VE BEEN SAYING THEY WERE GONNA DO FOR MONTHS NOW! IF NOT LONGER!

People just don't fucking listen

Not to be dramatic but this is a massive fucking deal and I legitimately hope every single politician dies.

[heartepub]

if i loved you less

summary. wonwoo's biggest gamble starts a week before valentine's day. pairing. jeon wonwoo x gn!reader genre/tags. non-idol!au, friends to lovers, bookworm!reader, spoilers for a 210-year old novel, wonwoo wins most creative confession, suggestive at the end wc. 2.9k suggested listening. pretty u, seventeen // dreams, the cranberries // andante andante, abba // i will, the beatles // library card, janani k. jha // aphrodite, the ridleys

notes. late to a hearts day posting, but pls accept this humble offering in between thesis cramming! i first pitched this to kae waaay back, but unfortunately it is not royal/period au (sorry ueueue). i read aspen's accidental one night stand ww and dug around my wip's for this in a fit of madness LMAOOO as always, reblogs are appreciated and come say hi if you're so inclined 🫶🏼

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” Wonwoo hands you a package wrapped in brown paper, tied neatly with twine. Your eyes light up as you accept it with a soft thank you.

“Aren’t you a week early?”

“I know,” he replies simply. “I wanted to ask you to finish reading this by Friday.” Your brow furrows.

“Is it something I can finish by then?” Wonwoo nods. You feel the weight the parcel in your hands, considering his strange request.

“What brought this on?” You ask. 

The shift is subtle, but you notice it nonetheless—a flicker of something passing across his eyes, and his shoulders tensing up before he pulls them down again. Wonwoo looks away, as though steeling himself for something.

“It’s my reading recommendation.”

“Yours?” You straighten. Wonwoo’s never gifted a book to you before based on his own taste. He always based it off your reading list, after being hopelessly lost navigating a bookstore and asking the clerk for help, only to give you a book wildly different from your preferences.

You hold the book close to your chest. “Can I open it now?”

“No.”

“Fine,” you pout, then frown as a thought comes to you. “Wait. I remember telling you I’m on a ban right now.”

Normally, Wonwoo was scrupulous about following your rules, one of which being that he can’t gift you a book if your current priority was reading through the ones you already had.

He seems to weigh his words carefully before replying. “I just thought this one was too important to pass up.”

You catch how his fingers curl and uncurl in his jacket, the poor fabric already wrinkled at his fidgeting. Trying to make your voice as soothing yet nonchalant as possible, you pull your lips up to a grin, thumbing the edge of the twine ribbon. “I suppose I can make an exception for my best friend.”

It seems to have the opposite effect.

There it is again—the subtle shift in his demeanor, the miniscule purse of his lip before Wonwoo speaks. “Do you have dinner plans, or are we doing movie night again?”

“Movie night sounds good. Any requests for food?”

Normally, Wonwoo would ask you to prepare ramyeon, especially after you had figured out Mingyu’s recipe, while he brought dessert. But his reply, like everything else in this conversation, is unexpected. “I’ll handle it.” He checks his watch before leveling you with an apologetic look. “I have to run. There’s a bunch of shit to do at work between, but I’ll see you on Friday?”

If he wanted to talk to you, he would. You’d never push him to say anything he wasn’t ready to share. You repeat this to yourself, even as you nod, maintaining your façade of soothing nonchalance.

“Yeah, see you.”

For the past couple of years, Wonwoo’s gift of choice has always been a book. After your protests at the price of new titles and your steadfast allegiance to your library card, among other reasons, the rules had been laid out as follows:

Copies should, as much as possible, not be brand new. They could be from thrift stores, secondhand shops, yard sales, or those Facebook groups where owners sold their old titles. Only new releases would be the exception, and even then, indie bookstores should be the first place to look.

Refer to the Notion page of your current to-be-read list for possible titles.

If you were on a book buying ban, so is he; it’s bad enough that your shelves continue to groan under the weight of books still unread. 

The first rule was for your indulgence, too. You happened to take home a volume of the Diaries of Anaïs Nin only to find notes scribbled in the marginalia, and fell in love immediately. It’s a rare thing in your collection, but you do have someone’s old Letters to Milena and Giovanni’s Room, the latter with annotations in Arabic, of all languages.

You stare at the unwrapped gift, heart in your throat.

Emma.

Wonwoo must have been lying when he said it was his recommendation; you have your own well-worn copy, annotations and all, sitting in the corner of your shelf dedicated to Austen. Hands shaking, you open your messages, snapping a photo of the book laying on the desk.

You [picture] ??? wonwoo?? (Seen)

He sees it almost immediately; three dots appear onscreen.

aa wonu It’s a gift. Don’t overthink it. But I hope you won’t get mad.

You is it smth I should be mad abt?

aa wonu Up to you.

You you know i’ve read emma, right

aa wonu Have you started reading this one yet?

You turn to Chapter 1, and gasp. There, in black ink, is Wonwoo’s familiar scrawl, remarks littering the blank space between the heading and the text. You flip through the first half, seeing how he’d write anything from a smiley face to bracket off entire passages with an exclamation point. Some brackets and underlines have longer annotations beside them that you have yet to read.

It’s all in black pen—so characteristically Wonwoo, who wouldn’t be the type to use different colored highlighters and page flags, anyway.

You oh my god. wonwoo

aa wonu The last time I read a classic was in high school Don’t judge me too harshly. Please. See you Friday?

You hesitate before replying.

You yeah ofc! see you!!

Your thumbs are shaking too badly as you type the last message; the phone gets thrown on your bed, bouncing once before resting on the pillow. A hand comes up to cover your mouth. You stare at the book, mind whirring.

Years ago, there had been a time when you entertained the thought of dating Jeon Wonwoo. In night-outs where he’d offer to get you home, a hand on your back to keep you from stumbling as you’d fumble for keys that always ended up at the bottom of your bag. He had even taken to keeping a pair of slippers in his car, in your size, for you to change into when your feet were hurting. Wonwoo never told you—he just knew your foot size, just cared in the understated, quiet way he always did. When you found out, you remember thinking that this would be the kind of man you wouldn’t mind offering your heart to. Thought that obviously he’d only do something like that for someone he was in love with.

Now, of course, after his exes and your own, and no confession in sight, you had buried your wishful thinking in the deepest parts of your heart. You’d even grown to appreciate it more, finding comfort in the care that was independent of any romantic expectation.

Wonwoo, your best friend, chose, out of all the books to annotate and gift you, Emma. You know how the story goes. He knows you know how it goes. Yet Wonwoo’s thoughts are here, immortalized and entrusted into your hands, the same hands you have now buried your face in while trying to reel in your breaths.

Today, that bird you had deprived of the sun beats its wings against your ribcage, insistent once more. Your body is simultaneously numb and buzzing with energy, as though it could not decide whether it wanted to freeze up or run a few hundred laps.

It could be nothing—could be like that time with the slippers again where you allowed yourself to be caught in your wishful thinking. You don’t know if your heart can take it if it isn’t. You don’t know if your heart can take it if it is.

You welcome Wonwoo in your apartment with a painfully bright grin, accepting his proffered bag of takeout before ushering him inside. He had offered only a soft hello, barely a smile on his face as he took off his shoes by your entrance. You couldn’t bring yourself to keep up any chatter while he washes his hands in your kitchenette, even as you busy yourself a few feet away with peeling off the tape on the plastic containers and wiping away any grease that leaked out.

“I’ll set up the table,” he breaks the silence, gaze unreadable. He’s already holding the two rice containers, and two pairs of chopsticks from your stash. 

You paste on a smile, tape still sticking to your fingers. “Sure.” 

He walks away. Not even when Wonwoo had broken up with his last partner, who made him choose between them and you, has it been this awkward. Steeling yourself, you join him, setting down the plate of chicken and bowl of steaming kimchi jjigae a safe distance from the laptop.

Before you begin eating, you hold up a hand for him to wait. Reaching into a nearby drawer, you pull out and offer your own present—a beta-release of a game he had been eyeing for some time now. Wonwoo’s eyes soften.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, as though he hadn’t been expecting you to gift him anything.

“Of course,” you respond immediately. Wonwoo glances at you before looking away. He always sits across you when you eat, and you catch the micro-changes in his expression as he shifts, staring hard at a spot on your floor before picking up his chopsticks. He looks at anything but you. The sound of the bamboo breaking seems to echo around the space.

Eventually, it’s too much for you to bear. You square your shoulders, inhaling a quick, sharp breath.

“I thought you wouldn’t come,” you begin, tentatively.

“…I thought about not coming,” he replies, raising his eyes to meet yours, which have not yet looked way from him. He looks away again. Something in your chest twists painfully, even if your body is buzzing with repressed adrenaline.

“Do you still want to watch a movie? Or are we gonna talk about it?”

Wonwoo’s eyes are guarded. “Is there anything to talk about?” he replies, an edge in his voice. “You never messaged after that day.” 

“I thought you wanted today to be the day we talked about it? Seemed like too big of a thing to discuss over text.” And you had spent the last week agonizing over what to feel, how to feel, what to say, and how to say it. He presses his lips together, fixing his gaze on the piece of napa cabbage resting on top of his rice. The broth stains the grains around it with a tint of red. 

He rests his chopsticks against the rim of the bowl before leaning back, running a hand through his hair. “I get it. It’s a lot. I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. “Don’t be sorry.” The response feels automatic, but you do mean it. He has nothing to be sorry for.

You look at him, really look, searching his features. There’s something in his eyes that breaks your heart—as though he had come here already expecting heartbreak, yet showed up nonetheless. 

Just like that, all the questions, any plans you had for today, vanish like smoke. 

“Just—just wait here.” You set your chopsticks on your bowl. The bamboo clacks softly right before the chair creaks as you stand, stumbling back a little as you turn to your bedroom. 

“Where is that—” you mutter. “Aha!” You run back to the table, where Wonwoo is waiting. Under his fingers, the takeout napkin is all but shreds, though he does try to hide it under the table once you arrive. You approach him, dragging your chair so you can sit beside him, nothing separating you.

“Hold out your hands,” you instruct. Wonwoo does, and you set down a copy of Emma on his waiting palms. But not the one he gave you the other day. It’s yours, the one you’ve owned for many years.

Wonwoo stares at it, before lifting his gaze to you. 

“Did you know,” you begin softly. “I used to like Persuasion the most. I loved how it was written, how both characters were more mature than the ones in her other books. Pride and Prejudice had my favorite characters. But Emma…”

You thumb at its spine, and then at the crease on the cover, a thin white line disrupting what would have been solid black. Its careworn edges are familiar under your fingertips, and you know if you fan the pages in front of your nose it will smell like the characteristic scent of old books.

“Emma is the one I reread the most. At least, certain parts of it.” There’s a page marked—the scene where Mr Knightley finally lays his heart bare to Emma. From behind your back, you bring out his gift, flicking through the pages until you find the same page in this copy, Wonwoo’s only highlight in a book annotated with black pen. 

If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more.

In your copy, there’s the same, with a note in your handwriting—in the script you first learned in high school and tried to revisit some years ago before giving up: me!!! but also me when!!!!!

Wonwoo looks at both of these, mouth parted. You know how sharp he is, how the pieces have already come together in his mind. 

“Really?” He asks, voice soft, as though he can hardly believe it. The only thing left is for him to believe it. You know, because you are the same. It was only the heartbreak in his eyes, the anticipated rejection at the start, that made it sure for you. 

Tentatively, your hands wander, moving from clasping the book to cupping his hands, cool under your own. You glance down at the book.

“‘If I have not spoken, it is because I am afraid I will awaken myself from this dream.’” Finally, you allow the giddy smile to spread across your face. Your heart flutters against your ribs, so utterly alive. “We’re both idiots, aren’t we?”

His lips twitch upward. After a moment, he begins to chuckle, and the weight on his shoulders seems to dissolve before your eyes. You begin to laugh too, simply out of the sheer relief of finally realizing that the past few days are now behind both of you. 

“In case it isn’t obvious, Jeon Wonwoo, I’ve been in love with you too.” You whisper. He leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. Where before, he was afraid to look at you, now, it seems it’s all he can do. The fondness in his gaze is enough to bring anyone to their knees.

“Thank God,” he whispers back. You just stay there, basking in the moment, letting the joy finally seep itself into bones that have been weighed by resignation for so long. After a while, you begin to pull away, only you catch how Wonwoo’s gaze drops down as you do. You pause, gazing at him questioningly.

There’s a minute tremble in his hands as he reaches for your face, brushing your cheek with his fingers. His thumb traces a line on your jaw. He leans in, but stops, watching your reaction first before closing the distance all the way.

Though his approach was hesitant, the kiss itself is anything but. His hands find your cheek, then your neck, then your waist, pulling you further forward. You thread your fingers through his hair, both to bring him closer and to anchor yourself. There’s the faint taste of spicy broth, but you don’t care, knowing you’re the same anyway.

“That was hell of a gamble for Valentine’s,” you murmur once he pulls away, shaking your head. “Why now? How long have you known?”

Wonwoo just smiles. “It’s been a few months since either of us had a partner. And after the last one, when I was made to choose…they called me out on how unfair I was being, trying to be with them even as they knew I was in love with someone else.”

Your breath catches in your throat even as he continues.

“I tried to deny it, at the time, but they knew even before I did.” he finishes. He tilts his head and leans forward, closing the distance again. It’s more insistent now, the hands on your waist fully pulling you onto his lap. Wonwoo’s teeth nip at your lower lip, and you gasp. It shifts from chaste into something more demanding; his hands wander, fingers trailing paths of fire as they run across your back and grip your waist, as though he were finally releasing everything that had been pent up in him until this moment. 

He swallows you into himself, and you allow yourself to be pulled into his passion. His mouth moves, latching down onto your neck and sucking. A quiet, shuddering moan leaves your lips. Wonwoo freezes. He pulls away, stricken, looking at you.

“Sorry,” he rasps. “I took it too far.” His hair is mussed, lips swollen and puffy. Something in your stomach stirs as you look at him like this—a Wonwoo you’d never seen before. A Wonwoo who is like this because of you. “I—”

You kiss him again, just because you can. Just a small thing, a tender reassurance. Pulling away, you smile. Absently, you play with the short strands of hair at his nape. “You’re okay. I don’t think I’m up for anything, er, more, tonight, but can we please keep kissing.”

After a beat, he chuckles, shoulders relaxing as his thumbs trace circles on your waist. Wonwoo leans in, lets your lips meet again in a slow dance, almost lazy. Like you finally have all the time in the world.

“Okay. But maybe after dinner and brushing our teeth. I’m still hungry.”

“Deal.”

Behind your ribs, the bird flies, finally free.

[jarofstyles]

Can you do a valentines blurb where she has her period and feels bad about it but he reassures her? Thank you Miss jars!!!

Aw that would be so cute! Yes let me do that.❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Warnings- mentions of period/ period sex, light food play? If you wanna consider it that. Fluff

Harry hummed happily as he dipped another one the ripe, red strawberries into a bowl of dark chocolate, coating it thoroughly before setting it on an appropriately heart shaped plate. Turning to her with a hand cupped underneath, he held out one of the ones that had set up and she had drizzled with white chocolate. "Open up, gorgeous. Need someone t’taste test. Don’t want them to be shit, do we?"

As she took a bite, he couldn't resist moving the fruit to the side stealing a kiss, tasting the rich chocolate directly on her lips. "Mmm." he hummed, wiping the corners of his mouth with his thumb and pointing finger. "Almost as sweet as you- but you’re better." With a little smirk, he turned back to the counter to start the process again.

"These are basically foreplay, Y’know." he joked, dipping another strawberry and swirling it by the stem to get the excess dripped off as he leaned over to press a kiss to her neck, making her giggle. "I mean, chocolate-covered strawberries? Really?" He fanned himself dramatically, earning another laugh from her. "They're fucking dangerous..." He held another one out teasingly as she leaned forward. "Here sweets, open f’me again..." He fed it to her slowly, watching her lips close around the fruit. “See? It works for more than just my cock.”

“Har.” Y/N coughed, covering her mouth so the chewed up strawberry didn’t spray everywhere. “Can we be wholesome for once? This is a nice and calm activity.” She was teasing, but mostly didn’t want to get too far into it because then she would be miserable. It was very easy for him to work her up, but she had woken up with her period coming early.

"Alright, alright... if you insist. We'll be wholesome. Sorry, baby." He chuckled, wiping his hands clean on his half apron before taking another strawberry and dipping it carefully. "See? Wholesome Harry, feeding his sweet girlfriend strawberries... I can do it." He fed her another one, this time without any innuendo, simply enjoying the quiet moment with her.

She took the strawberry from him gently, her fingers brushing against his as she took a bite, chewing slowly and swallowing before speaking without the fruit in her mouth. "Mmm... Milk is my favorite. I know dark is healthier but.." She shrugged, wiping a tiny drip of chocolate from her chin with her finger. "Thank you. I know that it’s inconvenient that I got my period on Valentine’s Day but I’ll make up for it when it’s over." She reassured him, feeding him a strawberry in return, trying to keep the moment light and sweet. He hadn’t made her feel bad about it at all when she had told him, but she was still a little disappointed. The cute outfit she had wanted to wear was wasted.

He bit into the strawberry she offered, his teeth sinking into the ripe fruit as he chewed thoughtfully. "Baby, y’don't need to make anything up to me." He insisted. That wasn’t what this was about. "This right here? It's perfect." He gestured between them with the hand holding the strawberry, a small smear of chocolate now adorning his finger. Thankfully she had reminded him to take the rings off before they’d gotten too deep into it or he would have a whole different mess. "Us, being goofy over strawberries? S’my kinda romance."

It was actually rather nice to have a lower key Valentine’s Day. The presents were still waiting to be opened and the new plan consisted of movies, making their snacks and relaxing. Simply being in each others presence. As much as he liked to make a big effort and do some grander gestures, it made him feel good that she truly craved his mere presence more than anything else.

“Today isn’t about sex. It’s about bein’ together and showing our love. M’just happy that I’m here with you doing something. I may tease you, because I definitely would do it… I don’t mind blood-“ The wrinkle of her nose made him snicker. “Hey, M’just saying it doesn’t bother me. But it does you, and I don’t want it if you aren’t very, very enthusiastic about it. Praise kink n’all of that.” It was a joke… kind of. He did have a praise kink, but he really didn’t give a shit if they had sex tonight.

Being able to eat and laugh with her was the best sort of night. When she had said she didn’t feel too well, he had no problem cancelling the reservation and changing from the stuffy outfit he’d been in to a pair of sweats and one of her graphic tee shirts to make homemade pizza and chocolate covered strawberries. Domestic stuff was something he loved, anyways. Y/N was the best thing he loved.

He brought his chocolate-smudged finger to her lips, pressing it gently against them and encouraging her to clean it off with a small kiss. She obliged, her soft lips brushing against his finger as she licked off the remaining chocolate. "Love you, angel." He murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "Always."

[bleuberries-and-video-games]

I can tell you this first hand, even the people who are fighting, they're doing it running ragged. Double that for anyone who's like a marginalized identity targeted explicitly by him, I know trans people who are burning the candle at both ends, myself included, to create support groups, networks of aid, any kind of shit just to keep going and to maintain any sort of equilibrium and even make ends meet. I'm very fortunate to have the job I have, I don't know if I will have it forever, as my job does kind of require or rely upon Federal and local government grants and the state of Missouri is not exactly a very kind place right now to trans people.

Not only that, but also like, I would like to explain to anyone from outside of the United States what the United States is like, because I don't think any of you understand what it's like. I think you see New York and la and maybe Austin Texas and maybe Portland oregon, or God forbid any one of the places where there's like a Disney theme park that some of y'all go to, but like those are really big economically beautiful and thriving places. That means they look picturesque, that means they look like America is fine and thriving, but I can assure you that is not the case for a number of different groups and people and places. Hell even in those places I've listed, there are issues you can see on a day-to-day basis that you wouldn't normally see just touring.

The vast majority of the United States, for the vast part of its history, has been some kind of police state with some kind of hyper regulatory body enforcing some kind of morally tied laws. From cross-dressing laws, to race mixing laws, to laws disparaging and maintaining women's oppression, to the very fact that if you didn't own land for a large part of this country's history, you didn't have any sort of power. At all. This means that you are beholden to a capitalistic class that has grown more and more powerful as time has gone on. America is not a shining City on hill and has never been a shining City on a hill, it has always been this place that has been propped up by capitalism, and always had a bunch of people that are sitting in the periphery and which makes the majority of the capital but doesn't see a dime of it. If you think that this is suddenly abnormal, that we went from voting for Obama to voting for the orange dweeb, you're a fucking idiot. You're not paying attention. You're so wrapped up in economic and social nationalism for your countries, thinking about how much better your Society is in contrast and trying desperately to figure out what went wrong™ in America that you forget fascism starts when you start drawing heavy borders and when you start thinking about us versus them. Everyone in the entire world is beholden and capable of doing fascism. I mean it fucking started in Europe for God's sake, Europe is not this enlightened Center of cultural good, for a long time it was very regressive and stifling, and it is only a recent part of History in which that has not been the case. And didn't even more recent history, you have benefited off of economic booms and trade Partnerships that have basically dissolved orders that once caused decades-long escalating conflicts that almost entirely destroyed the world. This is not an accident, this happens because of the economic powers that be, this is because of capitalism, and this is specifically because we have still not addressed the issues that plague the world.

We are trying our very best to do what we can to fight what we can and protect what we can. But when the majority of the country has been getting increasingly economically disparate, when police get more funding than schools, when the military is all over the world working with allies and toppling Nations or propping up proxy states, when all of our money goes to defense contractors or contracted Federal businesses run or cut to Pieces by private Equity firms, there's not a whole lot many people can do, and the more marginalized you are, the more Afflicted and affected by different issues in the world you are, the harder it is for you to do something. And yet I know some people who do stuff, who do fight, who fucking have to walk with a cane or crutches, who struggle to breathe or struggle to go anywhere, who don't have cars, and they still manage to go to meetings, work with organizations, and they're trying, they're God damn trying.

You see the problem is for the last 40 fucking years, the media apparatus that the United States runs, CNN and fox news, have accelerated the concept of propaganda in America from something that is a lot more decentralized and region specific, into this National Force that basically tells the world what America thinks. The issue is? Neither CNN nor Fox news, nor HLN, the Oprah Winfrey channel, cbs, abc, nbc, or Comedy Central really represent the American people and their opinions. A number of these nationally syndicated television shows and news programs have to water down a lot of perspectives, and they often dehumanize, Rob The Voice of, or just genuinely ignore very necessary issues. This is also because of the fairness doctrine, a standard that guaranteed the news would be a certain way, was abolished around the time that CNN and Fox News started taking off.

So not only were you getting watered down, oftentimes nationalized opinions, there was no alternative perspectives and there was no way to tell who thought what and why. And so pretty much the entire world and anyone who watches CNN and Fox News has just assumed that's what Americans think, when in reality we are very much skeptical and very much frustrated with what either program says, and by extension a lot of other media companies. We have watched and tried very actively to stop the monopolization of our media, but we are pretty much helpless to stop it because there's not a lot of avenues we can take especially the worse and worse things get.

You have to stop thinking of America in terms of the prosperity that is projected on television and by a bunch of places for touristic means, you have to start thinking about it in terms of the places that you don't see, you have to start thinking about it as a sort of oligarchic dictatorship that has traded hands over and over again for the last several decades to financially benefit a bunch of dick heads at the top of the hierarchy. Those same Financial dick heads go and explore the world, prop up and collaborate with different financially powerful individuals, and maintain the conflicts and oppression that run the world. Ever since the fall of the Berlin wall, and even since before that point, America has had pretty much free reign with little opposition to do a bunch of bullshit like that.

All the while a lot of it citizens suffer, a lot of them are compulsory forced to serve in the military in order to get the bare minimum amount of college, medical care, and so on, which creates a massive benefit to the military industrial complex, and by extension ships are troops all over the world to help our allies supposedly defend themselves, when in actuality all it's doing is just legitimizing and continuing the cycle of financial destruction.

What I'm trying to say is you have to stop thinking of America in terms of what you see in the media and start looking at America in terms of what you hear from people around here, and more importantly you have to talk to people who are not kissing the ass of government or posting rampant conspiracism. You have to talk to regular citizens and actually get a gauge on what it's like living in both middle and wider range America. I would love for California and New York to be the emblematic representation of america, I would love for the media and ideas you see and engage with to be true, but it's not and it can't be.

America has never been this prosperous giant, it has been a testing ground for the extent of which capitalism can be abusive and get away with it. It is always been that way. You can ask however it got to this point, and I will point to the Civil War and say it was always this way.

It was always about maintaining indentured servitude, always about maintaining disparity and destruction and oppression, and basically from the beginning America has constantly been founded by and sustained by consistent and perfect PR spins. Liberty and justice for all? Or for a bunch of guys who own land? Yes you can change it, but you don't change it by simple votes. All of the Amendments that have giving us rights and changes that have made the country supposedly better have been paid for in blood, and almost all of them have been subverted by a bunch of movements antithetical to their existence simply because a group of people didn't like being told what to do. We are trying our very goddamn best. Please know that the media lies to you, please know that our government lies to you, please know that everything you hear about us is likely some kind of fabrication meant to maintain some kind of facade to get you to believe bullshit. To make you think that we're complaining with this. To make you think that we wanted this. We didn't. Those of us who did? I guarantee you are in the minority. I know they are in the minority.

For those outside of America going "why don't you fight back" or "don't you guys know what's going on?" let me explain something to you.

We know.

There is nothing a lot of us can do right now.

We are either minorities surrounded by Trump supporters or struggling to make ends meet or (most likely) both.

These first few days are designed to exhaust us. It's the same tactic he used during his first administration. Overwhelm the media and the masses so that the more sinister things he does gets swept under the rug.

And honestly, a lot of us are checked out because we spent the last four years warning people about a second term because our lives were on the line and those we thought cared about us proved they didn't.

And now we're just trying to find some sort of semblance of happiness in this joyless world we're now living in. We fight when we can, we bring attention to what we can, but a lot of us are just fucking exhausted.

So please, cut us some slack. We've been fighting for the last eight years, we still have to fight for the next four.

Right now, survival is the only rebellion we have.

[heavyhitterheaux]

You Put a Move on My Heart (Slight NSFW)

See Me Through You Series

I've got a real thing here by my side

someone who needs me holding me tight

and these special feelings won't ever fade

cause I knew from the start you put a move on my heart

Synopsis: You're excited to spend your first Valentine’s Day with Joe, but things don't go exactly as planned

Series Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

The look on your face was one of disbelief as you looked at your best friend who was smiling at you and wiggling her eyebrows.

“I don't why I always ask you for advice or suggestions or literally ANYTHING anymore. Everything that comes out of your mouth is typically diabolical.” You told her as she continued to smile at you.

“Look, don't get all loud with me. You asked for a suggestion and I gave it to you. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with what I suggested.” She replied as she threw a few doritos in her mouth.

“Do you think he'll like it?” You asked suddenly, becoming nervous, but as well as you knew your boyfriend deep down you knew that the answer would be yes.

“Y/N… he's a man. What the hell do you think? I never met one that doesn't.”

“Hmm, good point. Now how bad does it hurt?”

“I mean it's not a little tickle, but it's definitely not like getting hit by a tractor trailer as far as pain goes.”

“And you have had said experience with the tractor trailer?” You asked as you raised your eyebrow.

“You get on my nerves. You're getting your nipples pierced and we’re going and we're going now. Oh, and don't wear a bra, it’ll be irritating. This will be part one of Joe's Valentine's Day gifts. I know a girl that will do both for twenty dollars.”

“I… Twenty dollars!? I don't want my nipples to fall off after an hour!” You exclaimed as your eyes suddenly went wide.

“She pierced mine and I lived to tell the tale. She does it out of her basement though so….”

“NO. We are going to an actual tattoo shop.”

“Oh, so you agree? You'll do it?” Erin asked and you let out a huff.

“If something goes wrong, I'm blaming you.”

“Oh, please. Just you wait. Joe will be thanking me.”

After looking up a tattoo shop that wasn’t too far from your apartment, you scanned the reviews to see that everyone had been satisfied when they went there whether they had gotten a tattoo or a piercing. Erin offered to drive and once she put the address in the GPS, the two of you were on your way.

Once she parked in the parking lot behind the building, the two of you walked around the front and when you had crossed the threshold of the door, you were met with different tattoo designs covering the walls and a girl sitting at the front desk twirling one of the piercings that she had in her ears. When she looked up and saw the two of you, she instantly got a smile on her face.

“Hi! How can I help you?” She politely asked and Erin wasted absolutely no time in blurting it out.

“My best friend wants her nipples pierced to surprise her boyfriend for Valentine’s Day and I dragged her here.”

Hearing her say it out loud made you instantly cross your arms protectively over your chest. All in all, you knew that you had a high pain tolerance, but seeing as it was one of the most sensitive parts of your body, you weren’t quite sure.

“Of course! You just have to fill out this paperwork right here and then I’ll need your id.” As you nodded your head, she handed you the clipboard along with a pen and pointed to a bench where you could sit and fill it out.

The most “exotic” piercing you had besides your ears was your nose and belly button. The idea of piercing anything else, especially your nipples had never even crossed your mind. You should have known better than to ask Erin for a suggestion since you knew how she was.

Once you were finished, you walked back up to the desk and handed the forms over along with your driver’s license and as she was looking it over to make sure you didn’t miss anything, you glanced back at Erin who had given you a thumbs up along with a small smirk.

“Okay, we are all set, if you’ll follow me. Is your friend coming?”

“No, I’ll stay out here. She’s a champ, she can take it.”

Looking at her in disbelief as she declined to come with you, she waved you off and you quickly followed the girl to the back to one of the many rooms that they used for piercings.

“You can sit over there while I get everything set up. And are we doing one or both?”

“We can do both. Might as well.” You decided as you took off your jacket to place it on one of the chairs that was next to the window.

“And gold or silver jewelry?”

“Hmm, silver. Since it matches everything else I have.”

She nodded her head as she opened a drawer full of piercing jewelry and quickly pulled out two barbells.

“So, besides this, what are your other special plans for your boyfriend?” She asked as she motioned for you to lift your shirt and she quickly began cleaning the area, starting with the right.

“Well, my boyfriend is a huge nerd and I love that about him so he’s getting a Spongebob lego set and also a cologne that he loves since I noticed he was running low and didn’t have a lot left. I think we agreed that we were going to make dinner at my apartment or his and not go out since we know everyone else will be out and about.”

“I love that idea and I absolutely love Spongebob. You ready?”

As soon as you gave her the nod of approval, you felt the needle pierce your skin and you instantly winced. Within a second, it was over and she was screwing the end of it on and cleaning around it.

“Good, one down and one more to go. You okay?”

“It actually wasn’t as bad as I thought.”

“Oh, they’ll throb later. Make sure you take something for it.” She said while smiling and that immediately led to a frown on your face.

—

Wanting to keep the new piercing a surprise, you didn’t plan on telling him and he would simply see it on Valentine’s Day. It was now February 13th and you had noticed earlier in the day when you woke up how you had felt a little off for some reason. You still did your normal routine of going to gymnastics practice as well as going to class, but was thankful when you had finally gotten back to your apartment.

Before you decided on dinner, you wanted to take a shower and get comfortable for the night since it had been such a long day and would probably end up with you falling asleep on the phone with your boyfriend as you had done many times before. As you turned on the water in the bathroom and waited for it to heat up, you started to strip down out of your clothes and immediately let out a groan and was trying not to throw a little temper tantrum.

“You cannot be fucking serious. Why did this shit decide to come early?!” You said out loud to no one in particular as you saw it.

After you let out a deep sigh, you went on the hunt under your sink for products as well as comfy clothes from your bedroom to change into once you were finished.

When you were out of the shower, you got dressed and moisturized your hair before picking up your phone and texting the groupchat with Erin and Alisha.

You- You two won’t fucking believe this

Alisha- WHAT HAPPENED?!

Erin- SPILL THE TEA

You- I got my period and now one of Joey’s surprises are ruined

Erin- Damn it. And it’s a good surprise too.

Alisha- Oh, right, the nipple piercing. I’m sorry babes. Joe can just give you all the cuddles you want and feed you chocolate

Erin- I have a suggestion or a recommendation if you will

Alisha- Oh lord smh

You- Uh…

Erin- Okay, great! Glad you asked!

You- I actually didn’t ask, but okay

Erin- Period sex

You- I….. 😳😳😳

Alisha- Erin, is there anything under the sun that you haven’t tried?

Erin- Nope! And it makes your cramps feel better, but only if you’re up for it and of course if Joe is comfortable. But knowing his ass, anything you want, he’ll do it. Just get like a period sex blanket and put it down on your bed and go for it

You-No thanks, I’ll be satisfied with the cuddles

Erin- I just wanted to give you an idea! Oh I have another one! He can literally just make you cum by playing with your nipple rings

You- Bye Erin. I’m going to see if Joey can bring me some candy and ice cream over. Starting not to feel all that well

Alisha- Ask for kisses too! That always helps

Erin- Let me know if you try it!

Once you got settled on the couch, the cramps really started to kick in and the most comfortable position that you could be in at the moment was the fetal position. Knowing that just sitting there wasn't going to do anything to help your pain, you made it up in your mind to head to the kitchen in order to get something for the pain.

As you dragged yourself to the kitchen to look for some ibuprofen, you sighed when you noticed that your cabinets were empty. Unlocking your phone took a few times since your eyes were brimming with tears because of how much pain you were in and quickly facetimed Joe.

It took him no time to answer and when he picked up, he had a concerned expression on his face as he saw you upset and wincing.

“Baby doll? What’s wrong?”

“Can you bring me ibuprofen and a shitton of chocolate and ice cream? I currently feel like I was hit by a car.” You breathed out as you held onto the counter to steady yourself.

“Yeah, of course, anything else you need?” He asked as you saw him getting up and moving around his bedroom.

“Cuddles from my boyfriend because I feel like absolute shit right now.”

“Okay, let me get dressed and I should be there in thirty minutes at the most. Go and try to lay down, but leave the door open for me so you don’t have to get back up.”

Nodding your head, you did as you were told before walking to your bedroom and crawling to the top of your bed.

“Fuck, this hurtssss.”

“Did you eat dinner yet?”

“No, but the way I feel I would honestly probably throw it back up.”

“But yet you want chocolate and ice cream?” He asked confusedly as he was putting on his shoes.

“Joey, I don’t make the rules, okay? I just abide by them.”

“I’ll get you something anyway, just in case. I’ll be there soon.”

“Okay, I love you.” You mumbled as you propped your phone up on the nightstand.

“I love you too.”

When your eyes fluttered open, it took you a second for them to adjust and you noticed that there was now a heating pad on your stomach and your boyfriend’s arms were wrapped around you. Glancing at the nightstand, you saw the bottle of ibuprofen along with your water and chocolate.

Not wanting to turn around and move from your comfortable position, you simply called out for your boyfriend.

“Babeeeee.” You whined and in response, Joe leaned over and kissed your cheek.

“Yes, pretty girl?”

“Thank you for bringing what I needed.”

“You’re welcome. Now I need you to sit up and take this medicine since you were knocked out when I got here.” He told you as he helped you to sit up. You reached over and popped four pills in your mouth and a swig of water to wash it down before turning to look at him.

“I ruined our first Valentine’s Day.” You said as you pouted, but Joe let out a small laugh.

“You didn’t ruin anything, baby.”

“But my period decided to come early! It’s like it KNEW!”

“Look, if you’re comfortable with it, we can still do something because that doesn’t bother me. But if you’d rather wait until it’s over that’s fine too. Biggest thing for me is making sure that you’re okay.”

“Why are you like the perfect boyfriend?” You asked and you could feel that you were about to start crying again.

“I’m not perfect, I just take my girlfriend’s feelings into consideration. And Valentine’s Day isn’t only about sex. There’s plenty of other things we can do, but since I know how your cramps are, we can just stay in tomorrow and watch your favorite movies. We’re still going to make dinner and spend time with each other.”

“I need to get you another gift for that.”

“No, you don’t. You don’t need to get me a gift for doing something basic such as considering how you feel.”

“Doing it anyway, and you can’t change my mind. And wait a minute….. Joseph….”

“I… damn why are you saying my full government name?”

“You never actually asked me to be your Valentine!”

“Princess, you cannot be serious. Who else would I want to be my Valentine?” Joe asked as he looked at you in disbelief.

“I don’t know! Those girls that always come up to you on campus to say hi!”

“I… do not start. They don’t compare to you and you know it.”

“I guess I’ll let it slide since you did come and give me cuddles when I asked for them.” You said as you made him lean down so that you could kiss him.

“You're going to be my Valentine starting from now until forever.”

“Okay, you talk a big game, but I’m holding you to that Burrow.”

���Now that I have you, I’m definitely not letting you go.”

The day had finally arrived and you woke up with your room being surrounded by red and pink heart shaped balloons. You looked to your right to see that your boyfriend was nowhere to be found, but in his place was a huge teddy bear that you knew for a fact was bigger than you with a card attached to it.

Smiling to yourself, you opened the card to see Joe’s handwriting staring back at you.

Y/N, better known as my princess or baby doll,

So excited to be spending our first Valentine’s Day together and I spent about a month deciding on what I should get for you. I hope you love all of your gifts that I bought you, but keep in mind no material things can amount to how much I love and care about you. I’m thankful and grateful to have you in my life and this is only scratching the surface of what is to come for the both of us.

Love, Joey

As you placed the card back inside of the envelope, your bedroom door opened to reveal your boyfriend and you immediately opened your arms signaling to him that you wanted a hug.

After maneuvering through the many balloons, he came over to the left side of your bed and hugged you as he kissed the top of your head.

“Happy first Valentine’s Day baby doll.” He told you before leaning down to kiss you.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, babe. Are we doing gifts now or later? I can't wait for you to see what I got you.”

“We can do it later. I got up early and made breakfast for you.”

“But someone told me you can't cook.”

“Says who!? Does his name start with Ja and end with Marr?”

“Hmm, I think so.” You replied as you nodded and tried not to laugh.

“I'm about to get his ass for that and yes I can even if I don't do it often.”

“So what is on the menu for this morning?”

“Heart shaped pancakes, bacon since I know how much you're addicted to it and fresh fruit.”

“Are they really shaped like hearts?” You asked as you raised your eyebrow.

“Why don't you come and see for yourself? But first I figured you would want to take a bath and I have the water waiting for you and then you can eat.”

“I seriously do not deserve having you as my boyfriend.” You told him as you sighed.

“Let this be the last time that I ever hear you say that. You deserve everything, especially because you hadn't been treated that well in the past.”

Your eyes instantly welled up with tears and a few of them fell before Joe wiped them away for you.

“I am such a cry baby when I’m on it.”

“You're a cry baby anyway, but I still love you just the same.”

You made a face at him as he smiled at you and pinched your cheek before helping you up so that you could go to the bathroom.

“Meet me in the kitchen when you're done.” Joe told you before leaning down once more to kiss you.

As promised, the day was filled with you and Joe watching your favorite movies and you exchanged gifts after making lasagna, garlic bread, and salad for dinner. As you were sitting there on the couch next to Joe with your new necklace dangling that had his initials on it you glanced over at him to see that he was scrolling on his phone and not paying the movie any attention.

“What are you doing that has you so interested in your phone?” You asked and he looked at you and smirked.

“Your birthday is coming up so I need to start planning.”

“You have plenty of time, there's no rush.” You said as you had now focused back on the tv as Leonardo Dicaprio came onto the screen.

You were making Joe watch Titanic for the millionth time, but he never complained.

“I'd just rather get everything together early and no I'm not telling you because I know that you’re about to ask me. And what do you mean I have time? We have literally three weeks.”

“But…”

“No, and that's my final answer.”

“I'll get it out of you one way or another. And I can also just ask Ja'Marr.” You told him as you crossed your arms and suddenly remembered about your new piercings that you had yet to show him.

“Babe, put your phone down for a second.”

“Hmm?”

“I did a thing two days ago and this was supposed to be a part of your surprise, but now that ship has since sailed, I still wanted to show you.”

“What did you do?”

Turning a little bit more towards him, you had on one of Joe’s t-shirts and simply lifted it up to show him.

Once Joe saw the jewelry that was now decorating your chest, he immediately smirked as he started to play with them.

“Do you like it?”

“You can't tell by my reaction?”

“Well it was Erin's idea and she dragged me. Which I know you aren't surprised by.”

“Definitely remind me to thank her when I see her.”

“She warned me that you would probably say that.”

“Let me ask you something.” Joe said hesitantly, but looked at you seeing that you were giving him your full attention.

“What's that? You gave me your serious voice.”

“We don't actually have to have sex, but I can still make you cum. If you're up for it that is.” Joe asked and he could tell that you were thinking about it.

“By doing what?” You curiously asked, but had a strong feeling about what he was about to suggest.

“How about I just show you instead?” He asked and you nodded your head.

Not being experienced in the sex department, Joe would always ask if you were comfortable doing something beforehand and never pressured you. He wanted you to be comfortable and if anything ever didn't feel right or you changed your mind about something, he wanted you to tell him immediately.

This time was no different as he laid you down on the couch as he hovered above you and tugged on the bottom of his shirt that you were wearing.

“Arms up, take this off.”

Once Joe peeled the shirt off of your body and threw it behind him, his mouth instantly took one of your nipples into his mouth and lightly began to suck on it, making a gasp escape from your mouth.

After switching to the other one, he noticed that you winced slightly and quickly asked you if something was wrong.

“You okay?” He softly asked and you nodded your head.

“They're just a little sore.”

“You want me to stop? Just say the word. Don't want you to be uncomfortable.”

“No, keep going.”

As those words instantly left your mouth, Joe reattached himself to one side while rolling the other in between his fingers making you squirm.

It only took about ten minutes for you to hit your peak as Joe was placing kisses all over your chest as your breathing began to slow down. Once it did, Joe crawled all the way back up your body and placed several kisses on your lips.

“That was just a preview of what's to come on your birthday, but only if you're up for it.”

“I….”

“So that it'll make up for today. But of course, I promise not to do anything you aren't comfortable with.”

“I know, I trust you. And if this was just a preview, what else do I have to look forward to?”

“I'll just let it be a surprise, so you have to be patient.” Joe told you as he thought about the rose vibrator that he just bought to use on you for your birthday.

[traveler-at-heart]

Run, baby, run

Summary: Natasha is very competitive, and that includes your daughter.

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Based on some real life events lol

Natasha was a lot of different things for many people. Depending on who you ask -friends, foes, family- she could be stubborn, deadly, relentless. To you she was kind, loving and supportive, in a way that no one else knew.

You would all agree on one thing, though.

Natasha was too competitive.

Being married for three years, you’d grown used to it. As a matter of fact, it could be entertaining especially if she was playing pool or darts against the boys.

But this morning, when she shows you the flyer, you actually have to look twice, sure that Natasha lost her mind.

“Baby crawl race?”

“Yeah, only for babies under one year. You know, they set a track and time them…”

“I mean, I figured. I just… why would we want Anya to do that?”

Your daughter perks up when she hears her name being called and you both smile.

Anya is ten months old, but she’s way advanced for her age. It must be Natasha’s genes, because you’re sure that before she turns one, she will be walking or even running after her other mother.

“It sounds fun”

“And winning has nothing to do with it?” you press, reading about the prizes. “Everything listed here are things we already have. A stroller, a crib… ooh, a formula machine, fancy”

“We can still register if we leave now” Natasha picks up Anya from her playpen, and the sight of their matching red hair melts your heart as usual.

“Fine. We better get going”

—

To your surprise, there are over a dozen babies registered to compete. Natasha takes care of everything as you walk around the store where they’re hosting the event.

She comes back with a smile and a little paper with the number 17 on it.

“Your lucky number” she smiles at you, taking Anya in her arms.

You both watch as other kinds play and stumble around the mat. Most of them seem younger than your daughter, and only a few look close to being one year.

“That one’s gonna be easy to beat” Natasha muses, looking at a small kid that can barely sit.

“Natalia” you slap her arm. “He’s a baby”

“No. They are all competition. And we have no mercy, right, detka?” Natasha insists, bouncing your daughter in her arms.

“Alright, I’m changing her diaper before everything gets crazier” you decide, noticing how there’s a crowd forming around the place where the kids will crawl.

You make small talk with some of the clerks, who seem excited at the prospect of a silly race that will entertain them in the middle of their shift.

By the time you return, Natasha’s quiet, looking at the parents and their children.

“Everything ok?”

“Perfect” she nods, taking Anya in her arms. “Now, kiddo, listen to me, we are Romanoffs. We are fighters and more importantly, winners. So go and make us proud”

Anya responds by giggling and pulling a strand of her mother’s hair. Natasha smiles, saying something in Russian and kissing Anya’s cheek.

The mat is split in half so only two kids can compete at the same time, a screen with a timer behind them.

As expected, some of the kids get distracted by their race mate or crawl around instead of going in a straight line.

“What did I tell you? We’re gonna crush the opponents” Natasha whispers and you slap her arm.

She’s taking this way too seriously.

As you stand next to some parents, Natasha sniffs around, speaking into Anya’s back.

“Baby, did you go potty?”

“I don’t think so” you know Anya frowns and makes a little grunt when she does number two and she’s been pretty quiet this whole time.

“Oh, never mind” she turns to the parents standing next to you. “Not ours, detka”

The parents hurry to the bathroom. There’s a nagging feeling at the back of your mind when you notice how quiet Natasha is. It increases when the parents miss the race because they were stuck chaning a diaper.

Your wife tries to hide her smile, but there’s no way she planned this. Just a coincidence.

Right?

“Babies 10 and 11” the organizer calls. You noticed the girl is older than the other kids, standing out because she can close the distance faster.

“Best time has been 55 seconds. This should be interesting” Natasha comments.

Sure enough, the kid is about to finish when a bright blue ball crosses her path, getting her distracted and making her return to the start line.

The parents try to guide her back but it doesn’t work at all.

“Oh, well”

“Try not to look so happy about it” you whisper, but Natasha just chuckles and places a kiss in your temple.

After a few more minutes, it’s Anya’s turn. You carry her to the start line and Natasha kneels at the end of the mat, keeping her eyes focused on your daughter.

“Three, two, one. Go!”

All Natasha has to do is place her open palm on the mat. Anya’s seen her do it so many times and knows it means one thing: as soon as she touches her mama’s hand, she’ll throw her in the air the way she loves to.

It takes Anya 15 seconds to get to Natasha. Your wife rewards her with her favorite thing, and if it were anyone less graceful and quick, you’d be unnerved by the sight of your daughter kicking her feet while being lifted off the ground.

“Nicely done, pumpkin” you join them, smiling as Anya jumps to your arms.

“A worthy adversary, at last” a man comments as he takes his son to the race. “Let’s see if we can do it better than you”

“Doubt it” Natasha glares but you elbow her, smiling at the man.

“She meant to say, good luck. You’ll do great, sweetheart” you smile at his son, who waves back at you with wide eyes. He’s incredibly cute.

“Fraternizing with the enemy” Natasha tsks.

“He’s a baby, Nat”

“I didn’t like the way the father was looking at you either” Natasha grumbles, leaning forward to kiss you.

Definitely not complaining about her competitive streak now.

As your declared enemy gets ready to race, the father frantically looks around for something lost on their backpack.

“Did you bring it?” his wife insists.

“Yes! The purple elephant! We were playing with it a second ago!”

Apparently, that was their only resource, because the timer starts and their kid is focusing on everything but them.

They manage to finish after two minutes.

“Better luck next time” Natasha comments as they leave, her hand going around your waist.

She’s being so ridiculous but somehow you love it.

The winners are announced, and you cheer when the first place goes to none other than Anya Romanoff.

“Yes, baby. We are the champions” Natasha sings, bouncing her around. Anya has no idea what’s happening, but she’s enjoying the moment.

“Very nice” you comment when the organizers hand you the prize. “Good work, Anya. Keep it up and maybe we won’t have to pay for college”

“Of course she’ll get a scholarship. Or become a professional athlete. Or become president” Natasha says, walking back to the car.

“Oh, those are a lot of things. Maybe she’ll want to focus on just one”

“Nah, she’s got it. She’ll do it all” Natasha kisses Anya’s head and you can’t help but melt.

“Best thing you ever won?” you ask Natasha as you drive back home.

“No, that would be you” she says. “Of course, I mean the bet I made with Tony that I’d get you to date me over him”

“Ugh, you’re so ridiculous” you roll your eyes.

—

The excitement of the race exhausts your daughter, and she’s fast asleep by the time you get home.

You know this won’t last long, so you prepare her clothes to run a bath once she’s up.

As you’re going through her bag, you pull out a toy that’s definitely not Anya’s.

A purple elephant.

“Natalia Alianovna Romanova!” you shout, looking for her.

“Oh-oh” Natasha mutters and clears her throat. “Yes, dear?”

“You took that baby’s toy!”

“I did not! Ok, I did. But look, I timed him when they were practising and Anya’s time was still better. I just really didn’t like the way he was staring at your boobs”

“Mhm, right. Winning was just a plus”

“See? You get me”

“That ball that distracted the other kid was not a mistake either, huh?”

“I don’t know what you mean, darling”

“And the parents that missed the race for changing the diaper?”

“Now, that was just a happy coincidence. The rest, yeah. Totally me”

“Evil! Stealing a toy from a toddler” you wave the purple elephant in her face. Natasha takes it and throws it over her shoulder, wrapping your legs around her waist in a swift motion. “What are you doing?”

“I got you that fancy formula machine, didn’t I? Where’s my prize?”

You laugh against her lips, but it soon turns into a moan, as you feel Natasha’s hands slide down your back to cup your ass.

“Anya's gonna wake up in thirty minutes or less. Can you handle that?”

“I do enjoy a good challenge” Natasha says against your lips, showing you how much she loves to win.

And honestly? After a mind blowing orgasm, you love it too.

[merchantziro]

This was Danny's final shot, he honestly didn't have that much ecto left in him to keep enchanting metal. This city didn't have much, it was concerning it generated ectoplasm as is without a Ghost Portal as far as Danny knew but... Not his monkeys, not his circus.

So he built the portal outside the city, hoping it was somewhere secluded where those furries won't bother him this time.

Phantom finally got the portal set up and just needed to find a power source, so he left for what would hopefully be the final time to gather up some sort of power source, however right when he was returning...

B O O M !

Danny heard an explosion in the distance, that sounded like it came from-

The ghost boy ran back into his hideout, but was immediately kicked to the ground by one of the costumed jerks.

"No... No!"

Danny looked over at smoking and burning remains of the portal. They seemed to be asking him something but Danny neither understood what they were saying nor cared enough to say anything.

However what he did do was collapse to his knees, this was the final straw that broke the Halfa's back.

"Why? Why do you keep doing this?"

The costumed heroes paused before one reached out to him...

"Art thee tis fine...?"

...But Danny smacked the hand away with a growl.

"Get out..."

The man flinched back at the venom before the smaller one, a child that might be almost Danny's age, raised a sword.

"Thou art the one with the League, whatev'r grandfath'r is planning wonneth't cometh to fruition!"

The Halfa then looked at him coldly before wailing.

"I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT AND LEAVE ME ALONE!!!"

A green shockwave came from his mouse and knocked them into a wall. They raised their weapons and prepared to battle, but Danny then just turned away to the portal as tears formed in his eyes before collapsing to the ground sobbing.

"I just wanted to go home..."

That made the costumed freaks pause before looking at each other confused, not really knowing what to do. As the ghost boy cried himself until he fell asleep.

--- Hours Later ---

Danny woke up, only to find one of his tormentors, the one in a black and blue suit, was watching over him in a room that looked like a guest bedroom as he was laying on a bed. Though this time he looked concerned.

"Art thee good now?"

The ghost boy just glared before grumbling.

"...Why do YOU care all of the sudden? You sure didn't care before?"

"T appears we might has't misund'rstood thy intentions, and we wanteth to fixeth yond misprision."

"You want to what?"

Danny tilted his head before noticing a woman with a purple outfit enter the room, she had tan skin, green eyes, and poofy red hair that looked long and vibrant.

"This the one thee hath asked me to holp thee with right, Dick?"

She asked the man before he nodded, the woman turned back to him before getting closer as she puckered her lips

"Good now holdeth still, this shall only taketh a moment."

Danny immediately flinched back reflexively but couldn't react or speak fast before feeling the woman kiss him briefly on the lips. He could also see the man turn away, looking grumpy.

However the moment AFTER they broke, he was coughing and gagging.

"Ugh! What the hell was that for, I'm only 15 and not interested in whatever weird kinky shit you-"

"Do you understand me better now?"

Danny paused when he heard her speak English back to him.

"Uh? ...Yeah? How did you"

The woman nodded.

"I apologize for scaring you, Tamaraneans like myself have the ability to learn other alien languages through oral contact."

"Wait Tama-what now? Wait, I kissed an alien!?"

The woman giggled at Danny's stuttering realization, while the man continued to watch the conversation from the sidelines.

"Indeed, I am Princess Koriand'r of Tamaran, but you may call me Starfire."

"Uh... Danny, Danny Fenton of... Well it's complicated."

Danny felt his cheeks burning green because, concerning potential age difference aside, holy shit kissing an alien princess almost makes this all worth it and he's gonna brag to Tucker and Sam about it for a week when he gets home!

...Home...

The memory of the ruined portal immediately caused Danny to slump back into his chair as he turned back to the man.

"So what? After every time those guys destroyed my attempts to make a portal, NOW they decide they want to talk when I lost my final chance!?"

He folded his arms and looked away, the man flinching at his outburst.

"...There might have been a misunderstanding with your intentions and nature. Tell me, do the terms Lazarus Pits or League of Assassins mean anything to you?"

"The Who Pits and League of What!? No, Ancients no!"

Danny raised an eyebrow and looked genuinely baffled by the question.

"Well according to what Nightwing told me, they believed you were using an old form of their dialect and thus believed you were with them. Tell me then where did you learn it?"

"Uh? This is English? I don't know why everyone else speaks like old Shakespearean novels in this world but at least it's English back in my dimension?"

"I see... So then I assume you were just trying to build a portal home?"

She placed a hand onto Danny's shoulder, a sympathetic look on her face.

"Y-Yeah... And... That was my last shot. Because I needed to use Ectoplasm to imbue the parts in order to make the portal into the Infinite Realms so I could find my way back."

This caused the man to take a deep sigh as he's having a slow burn realization of something before resting his head on his arms.

"Oh mine own god we couldst not has't fuck'd this up any m're if 't be true we hath tried..."

Step 1: Get stuck in another dimension. Step 2: build a portal back to the Ghost Zone. Step 3: Leave.

Danny's got it down to a science at this point. It barely takes him a week to get back home. (Except for the time the dimension he landed in was in the stone age, but we don't talk about that.)

Step 1 was easy enough, if involuntary. Now, step 2 is where it's all going wrong.

This dimension's language isn't one he speaks. That's fine, maybe adds a day or two to the search for parts, but the main problem is the people dressed in Halloween costumes, speaking like they're from a Shakespearean play who always find him and wreck his portal.

And it's not like he can just move to a different city, this one's soaked in ectoplasm. He'd have to spend a pretty fair amount of time searching for another place as saturated as this one.

Meanwhile, the Bats are not having a good time. Some League or League-adjacent member speaking a barely intelligible form of the League dialect keeps attempting to build some sort of weapon in Gotham, and refuses all communication in English.

(AKA: Danny is stuck in another dimension where his English is their League dialect. He just wants to go home now, please.)

[motorsportbarbie13]

Aftermath - Chapter 8

When Lando leaves you heartbroken after you get tired of trying to make something out of nothing for far too long, Max steps in to help you pick up the pieces.

warnings: lando makes an appearance in this one. abusive language used, including sexist name calling. pairing: max verstappen x leclercsister!reader word count: 3.9k words a note: here it is babies!!! the last one in this series. i know it's been different from what i usually write, but this has been so much fun. extra special thank you to @lestapiastrisgirl as usual for beta reading and holding my hand at 2am when i wake up struck by an idea hahaha <3

Aftermath - Chapter 1 Aftermath - Chapter 2 Aftermath - Chapter 3 Aftermath - Chapter 4 Aftermath - Chapter 5 Aftermath - Chapter 6Aftermath - Chapter 7 Master List

madmaxx1 posted

52 likes liked by ferrarisprince16, babyleclercpriv, jadebby, and others madmaxx1 pretty pretty girl ferrarisprince16 hey! so this is insane! >>>artiebartie yeah! stop thirsting over our sister >>>madmaxx1 never babyleclercpriv <3 jadebby god you two are so cute it's gross

missleclerc posted

missleclerc surprise! some new pieces are debuting at @/nessasgallery TONIGHT. I'll be there to discuss this new direction my art is going in along with what (and who) inspired me to try such a drastic new approach to painting. I hope you'll drop by and take a look, it would be lovely to see you! maxverstappen1 does this make me your muse??? >>>charlesleclerc hey! my car is up there right next to you! that means I'm a muse too! >>>missleclerc you two are ridiculous >>>user0298 uhhhhhhhh... user1029 ferrari and red bull without a mclaren in sight. iiiiiiinteresting >>>user1100 i think this is all the breakup confirmation we need user455 oh shes in LOVE LOVE with max >>>user444 oh this is so messy. i love it. give me 12 more seasons right now.

“If we don’t leave in the next ten minutes, we’re going to be late for your own event, pretty girl.” Max tuts at you from the doorway of your bedroom but there’s no bite behind his words. 

You glance up at him from your vanity where you’re sitting doing the last bits of your makeup. He looks heartbreakingly handsome in crisp white button-down underneath a tailored navy blue sport coat and matching slacks. His hair is combed neatly to the side, gelled into submission in a way that makes you want to rake your fingers through it just to muss it up. 

“I’m nearly ready, mister bossy pants.” You shoot back before switching off the light on the vanity and standing up. 

Max rolls his eyes but takes advantage of you walking towards him, smile on your face, and blatantly ogles you. The way the navy blue lacy dress hugs every dip and curve of your frame has Max checking his watch, wondering just how late you two could be without raising suspicion. 

“Don’t get any ideas.” You giggle, wrapping your arms around Max’s waist before pitching up onto your toes to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You were just scolding me that we can’t be late and then you come in here looking at me like that.” 

“It’s not my fault you look like a goddamn masterpiece in that dress.” He murmurs against your neck as he drags hot, open mouthed kisses down towards your collar bone. 

The way Max talks to you now, the reverent way he looks at you like you’re a piece of art in the most normal of situations, the way he always has to be touching you even with just the tips of his fingers, it’s everything you’ve ever craved from a relationship and everything you thought you didn’t deserve. 

Two weeks have passed since that night in your studio and while Max had to be gone for half of it for a race, one that you had solidly refused to attend until the dust between you and Lando settles a little more, it’s almost as if you two have been together for years now. The way you’ve slotted yourself into his life and Max into yours is so settling, so calming that you’ve caught yourself waiting for the other shoe to drop. You’ve caught yourself waiting for him to behave like Lando, to push you away or do something that proves that Lando was right all along. 

Max knows you’ve been waiting for it so he’s made an extra effort to prove to you that it’s never going to happen. He knows you’re still healing, still recovering from what the British driver did to you so he hasn’t pushed. He hasn’t pushed to label whatever it is you two are to each other. It doesn’t matter to either of you because if you’re both in Monaco, you’re together. Max comes down to your apartment to watch while you cook dinner or you go up to his to cuddle on the couch and spend the night. It’s been a blissfully quiet time but you can both feel that private time coming to an end. 

The comments on your post from earlier had been mostly positive but it was pretty apparent fans had put two and two together. People knew you and Max were…something. They had figured out that a breakup had taken place even if nothing had officially been announced. You knew that once you arrived to the gallery tonight, hand in hand with Max, that was all it was going to take to confirm to the public that you and Lando were over and you had moved on. 

The thought of what Lando might do after he sees the coverage of tonight, and you know there will be coverage, has anxiety sitting heavy on your shoulders. Max clocks it instantly, shaking his head. He reads you so easily now, he always has but since that night in your studio, he’s been even more in tune with you and your moods. 

“Don’t go there. It’s going to be fine. Everyone who loves you, who matters, is going to be there and we won’t let anything or anyone ruin tonight, okay?” 

You nod, attempting to tamp down the anxiety that blooms hotly in your chest. You hated how much control Lando still had over you sometimes but you were getting better, bit by bit. “Thank you.” You whisper, nuzzling into the crook of Max’s neck while inhaling the scent of his cologne. 

“I have something for you.” Max murmurs into your hair in an obvious attempt to distract you. 

You pull back, eyes sparkling up at him. “You do?” 

Distraction successful. 

Max reaches into the back pocket of his slacks and pulls out a rectangular velvet box. You blink up at him in confusion. “Max…” 

“It’s just something small to show you how proud I am of you, how wildly in love I am with you.” He says, the words skittering up your spine before settling deep in the pit of your stomach. You’ve never been loved in the way Max loves you and it’s always seemingly knocking you off your center. “Go on, open it.” He whispers, watching as you turn the velvet box over in your hands. 

The hinges on the box whisper open and you’re momentarily speechless when you see what is nestled in the black satin. A diamond tennis necklace winks up at you with dozens of brilliant cut diamonds set in what looks to be platinum, stealing the very breath from your lungs. The stone that sits nestled in the center though is what renders you completely speechless. A large emerald cut brilliant blue sapphire stone sits in the middle of the necklace, the color a perfect match to the navy blue of Max’s Formula 1 car. 

“Max.” You whisper, unable to find any other words beyond his name. 

“Do you like it?” He asks, eyes searching yours earnestly, looking for approval in your face. 

“It’s…” The words to describe the beauty of the piece sitting heavy in your hands escapes you. Your breath hitches in the back of your throat, a small, involuntary gasp escaping your lips. The diamonds, so bright they seem to shimmer with the captured light, blur and swim together as tears prick at your eyes. “Max,” You manage again, your voice thick with emotion that you struggle to get a handle on. “It’s breathtaking.” 

He reaches for the necklace, his fingers brushing against yours, sending a surge of pleasure down your spine. His touch, simple as it is, is familiar but charged with a new intensity. He lifts the delicate chain, the cool metal a stark contrast against the warmth of his skin, and fastens it around your neck after you spin for him while lifting your hair out of the way. The weight of the piece settles against your skin, a physical reminder of his affection, his love for you. Love. The word echoes int he quiet space of your mind, a sound so heavy but exhilarating that it has fresh tears threatening to spill over. 

“Turn around.” He murmurs, voice husky. Max takes a step back, eyes raking over you, a slow appreciative burn in their blue depths. 

You obey, your movements a little stiff and unsure. As you turn, the sapphire catches the light, flashing a vibrant, rich blue against the pale glow of your skin. You spot your reflection in the mirror across the room just as you turn back to face Max and your breath catches again. The necklace transforms your outfit into something extraordinary. It’s not just beautiful, it’s…meaningful. It’s a symbol of his belief in you, his pride in being with you, his acceptance of you, flaws and all.

 It’s a promise, whispered against your skin. 

“It’s too much.” You whisper, the words barely audible. The sheer extravagance of the gift, the depth of the emotion behind it, is almost too overwhelming. 

Max steps closer, his hands slipping around your waist as he pulls you against his body. “It’s not too much.” He says, his voice gentle but firm. “You deserve the world, everything beautiful and bright and good. And this?” He gestures to the necklace clasped around your neck, the sapphire resting in the hollow of your throat, “This is just a small token of my love.” 

“Thank you.” You whisper, the words wholly inadequate and insufficient to describe the way your stomach is swirling with emotion but it’s all you can manage in the face of such overwhelming emotion. You reach up, your fingers tracing the cool surface of the center stone. It feels like a piece of him, a tangible representation of the connection you both share. And in that moment, surrounded by the quiet him of unspoken emotion, you know that whatever happens tonight, whatever Lando might do to ruin the night or in the future, you’re not alone. You have Max. And that, you realize, is more precious than any piece of jewelry that Max could ever give you. 

f1.gossip.news posted

f1.gossip.news in a move that shocked...absolutely no one, charles leclerc's little sister stepped out hand in hand with new flame max verstappen tonight. while her and lando never officially announced their split, we've all seen the writing on the wall. her insta post announcing her new artwork debuting tonight featuring the red bull driver was all the confirmation we needed that her and the mclaren driver are dunzoooo. what do we think, chat??? user7575 she is GLOWING! good for her. >>>user0209 seriously, i haven't seen her or max look this happy in ages. user3221 i can hear the dishes breaking in lando's apartment from here in london >>>user0202 seriously. imagine losing the championship last year AND THEN YOUR GIRL to max verstappen. WHEEEEW BOY. user1992 this is so messy. i love it.

The light from the gallery spills out onto the sidewalk, casting a golden glow out into the street that guides you and Max towards it’s doors. It doesn’t escape your notice that the last time you walked down this sidewalk at night towards Nessa’s gallery for a show of yours, you were alone and desperately sad. 

Tonight though? Tonight is completely different. Your arm is tucked securely in Max’s elbow as he walks with towards the gallery with you after dropping the car off with the valet. The necklace he’d given you that night sits securely around your throat, an outwardly sign of the budding relationship between you two. As you approach the gallery, you see your brothers waiting for you but this time, all of their significant others are also waiting for you as well. 

Charles is the first one to intercept you, catching you up in a tight hug before whispering how lovely you look tonight in your ear. You’re passed first to Arthur and finally to Lorenzo, who makes a joke about the rock around your neck. Through it all, Max sits back quietly, watching you glow under the attention of your brothers. Jade, Alexandra, and Charlotte all make a fuss over your outfit and paw at the necklace, swooning over how it practically sparkles under the gallery lights. 

When you finally make it into the gallery, there are dozens of people already there. Nessa sees you walk through the door first and pounces on you instantly. 

“My darling!” She coos, wrapping you up in her arms and squeezing you tightly. “You are shimmering with happiness.” She comments, eyes darting to where Max stands behind you, hands tucked neatly into his pockets as he talks with Charles and Arthur. “And I suppose we have that man to thank for that.” 

“Partly.” You agree, but you know it’s more than that. You feel as though you’ve been given a second chance tonight. You were so close to losing everything, to succumbing to everything that Lando had put you through over the last three years that this first night out feels like your first taste of what life should feel like. You knew you had Max to thank for a lot of that, but it also wasn’t lost on you how much you had also fought to be there for yourself. “I’ve done a lot of work on myself the last few months too.” 

Nessa nods, running a protective hand up and down your bare arms. “I know, your art has changed! It feels lighter but also there’s so much more depth to it. I’ve had several inquiries about the one of your man after Brazil.” She says, eyes alright with dollar signs. 

“Unfortunately, that one is already sold.” Max cuts in, slipping his arm around your waist before handing you a glass of red wine. 

You startle, not realizing that you had already sold a piece so early on in the night. “It is?” 

Max nods, taking a sip of his drink. “I came in yesterday afternoon while you were taking a nap and bought it.” 

Your head snaps to Nessa, looking for confirmation. “Paid twice my asking price.” She murmurs, smirk playing at her ruby red lips. Traditionally, she never sold a piece before it was debuted but Max had been persuasive and insisted on locking down the piece without you knowing before hand. 

“Max!” You hiss, bumping a shoulder into his. “I would have just given it to you if you’d asked! I was planning on doing that anyway!” 

Max shrugs, small smile on his face. “I wanted to make sure no one beat me to it. And of course I paid for it! Allow my girl to give her work away for free? Just because I’m the muse doesn’t mean I get special treatment.” 

You’re fairly certain you blush deeper a deep red than the scarlet of your brother’s Ferrari at the praise Max heaps on you. Nessa hides a knowing grin behind her own wine glass before excusing herself to go talk to a client that had just walked in. 

Max and you are left alone in the center of the room and for a moment, the silence that settles over you two is a comforting blanket. It’s not hurried or anxious, the energy between you tonight. It’s a calm, steady thrum of energy that passes easily from Max to you without having to do much more than exchange a glance or quick brush of fingertip against bare skin. You watch your family swirl around the room, each gently checking in on you in their own time as they mingle and you feel yourself relax into the vibe of the evening. 

You’re two glasses in and having a hushed conversation with Jade as Max stands beside you, backs to the door, when a sudden tension snaps through the gallery. On the opposite side of the room, the door at the front of the gallery snaps just a touch too loudly, pulling your attention in that direction. 

The figure that stands just inside the gallery sends your stomach dropping through your toes. 

“Shit.” Beside you, Max’s hand finds yours and he instinctively shifts to put himself between the rest of the gallery and yourself. 

You knew this was going to happen. You had felt it in your bones tonight as you had gotten ready. You knew that Lando would never let you have this. Knew deep down that he’d never let you fully get away from him without having the last word. If there was one thing that Lando couldn’t stand, it was being made a fool of. And you knew that showing up here tonight on Max’s arm, wearing Max’s jewels would set him off. 

You deserved what was coming. 

You try frantically to step around Max, feeling the need to absorb the fire you knew Lando was going to spew everywhere. But Max won’t allow it. Without a single glance in your direction, Max shifts his weight once again and you find yourself even further away from Lando now. Somewhere to your left, you sense Charles and Arthur step in front of you two and you’re certain Lorenzo is around somewhere. 

“Typical LeClerc behavior. Hiding behind others who are more powerful than you in order to save face. Learned from the best, didn’t you baby?” The venom in Lando’s voice sinks it’s claws into your bloodstream, threatening to drag you under. 

Around you, conversations cease instantly, all attention on the scene happening in the corner of the room. 

You weren’t going to let Lando win this though. You were done giving him the power to control you, done dodging the confrontation in an attempt to quietly end things between you. He just wasn’t getting the hint and if he was going to behave like this, then fine. You were fed up. 

Pushing through Max and Charles, you stand in front of your ex-boyfriend, head held high. “Lando, this is neither the time nor the place to do this.” Your voice is deceptively calm, not giving away a bit of the fear that trembles just below the surface. 

Lando sneers, rolling his eyes and then his gaze snags on the necklace at your throat. The navy blue stone catches the light, winking over at him with an antagonizing shimmer. He takes half a step closer and you feel Max shift again, but this time he comes to stand beside you instead of in front of you. 

“Wearing his collar already, huh?” He bites out. A chorus of gasps ripple through the gallery but you just tip your chin up higher, used to his attempts at humiliation. Lando’s gaze shifts to Max beside you and a cruel smile curls at the corner of his mouth. “Tell me, Verstappen. Does she still make that little cooing noise right before she comes? It was always the sweetest little sound, you know the one I’m talking about, right?” 

Humiliation burns through you, hot and bright as Max reaches for your hand, giving it a squeeze. Another ripple of disbelief peppers through the crowd but Max barely blinks. “You know, I’ve never heard her make that particular sound.” He pauses and Lando’s face lights up in a brilliant smile, as if he’s won. “Usually, she’s too busy screaming my name when I make her come though so she’s never been one to make quiet little sounds with me.” 

Silence. 

“I always knew you were a cheating whore.” 

A sickening crack rings out in the otherwise silent room as your brother’s fist connects squarely with Lando’s jaw. 

“Charles!” You gasp, hand flying to your throat as you watch Lando stagger back. 

Charles shakes out his hand, received to be able to move all of his fingers. He can’t imagine that call to Maranello going well if he’d had to phone about a broken hand. 

“Keep my sister’s name out of your filthy fucking mouth, you piece of trash.” Charles spits, voice a mask of sheer deathly calm.

Max steps forward, a silent demand for order radiating from the way he stands. “Enough.” His voice is unwaveringly calm as he watches Lando struggle to his feet, clutching at his left eye where a deep blue bruise is already blooming. “Get the fuck out of here before I call the police. I don’t think Zak would be to happy to hear about tonight’s shenanigans or enjoy having to read the media coverage after his star driver gets arrested for harassment.” Max takes half a step towards Lando and you enjoy the way the Brit scrambles away. “If you so much as sneeze in her direction ever again, I will make it my life’s mission to see your entire life ruined, Norris.” Max is practically nose to nose with Lando now, his glare cutting down your ex-boyfriend so he appears about two inches tall. “Are. We. Clear?” 

****

Later that night, Max startles awake, unsurprised to find himself alone in your bed. He knew you were restless tonight. It had taken him nearly twice as long as it usually did for him to pull your body to release underneath him. And after, when you had tumbled head first into sleep, naked beside him, you weren’t settled like you usually were when you slept beside him. 

So no, he wasn’t surprised to find you gone and the bed long cold beside him. 

Pulling on a pair of boxers, Max wanders into your spare bedroom that’s morphed into somewhat of a second studio space. He finds you exactly where he expects you: facing away from him sitting in front of a half finished canvas. You’re bathed in a brilliant blue moonlight, wearing nothing but his white dress shirt from earlier and his necklace you still haven’t removed. 

“Come back to bed, my love.” He murmurs into the crook of your neck as you drop your head onto his, sinking into the warmth of his embrace. 

A soft sound of agreement hums in the back of your throat as you place the brush on the table beside you. Max is a touch surprised with how pliant you are, instantly following his suggestion without much fight but he also knows today took a lot out of you and the thing you sometimes craved was the ability to shut it all off. 

“I wasn’t getting much work done anyway.” You murmur, standing and leaning into his embrace even more. The room is chilly anyway and you find yourself needing Max’s touch more than anything else in that moment. 

You allow Max to tug you out the door towards your bedroom, knowing that he’s able to read you perfectly. He doesn’t rush you though. He lets you linger for a moment in the doorway, your gaze snagging lightly on the painting behind you. It’s a gorgeous landscape that you’re known for, something you haven’t been able to paint in what feels like a lifetime. The moonlight paints silver streaks across the floor, illuminating the painting that you had spent the last hour just starting at. It’s a peaceful scene, a stark contrast to the turmoil that had filled your day. A small, contented sigh escapes your lips and Max squeezes your hand just enough to pull your attention back to him. 

Once back in the bedroom, the chill of the room sends a shiver down your spine. Max, ever attentive, pulls back the covers, gesturing for you to climb in first. He watches as you curl up on your side, tucking your knees up in towards your chest. The white shirt slips off your body, revealing the delicate curve of your spine. He slides in beside you, the mattress dipping under his weight. Max reaches out, his hand finding the curve of your hip and gently pulls you closer until your back is flush against his chest. He wraps an arm around your waist, fingers splaying across your stomach. 

You melt into his touch, the warmth of his body radiating through you. His breath is warm against the back of your neck and the steady rhythm of his heart is a soothing lullaby you’ve come to depend on at night. The events of earlier linger in the back of your mind, but here, in Max’s arms they start to feel a little more distant, muffled almost. He kisses the nape of your neck softly, a quiet reminder of his constant presence in your life now, how he’ll never allow you to be alone of face anything by yourself anymore. 

“Better?” He whispers, voice low and rumbling against your bare skin. 

“Mm-hmm” You hum, snuggling deeper into his embrace. You reach down and take his hand that sits on your belly, intertwining your fingers with his. The simple act of holding his hand grounds you, reminding you that you’re not alone anymore. You turn slightly in his arms, just enough to look up at him. His eyes, even in the dim light of the bedroom, are filled with tenderness and understanding. 

“Thank you.” You whisper, your voice thick with emotion. 

Max smiles, a soft, reassuring smile that makes your heart ache in the best way. “For what, liefje?” His Dutch accent is thick now, as it gets when he’s tired and emotional. 

“For everything.” You say, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “For being here. For understanding. For taking care of me.” 

He pulls you closer, his hold tighenying slightly. “Always.” He murmurs against your lips. “Always and forever, my love.” 

And as you drift off to sleep, wrapped in the warmth of his arms, you know that no matter what happens next, you and Max will face it together. This, right here, in his arms, is your happy ending that you’ve been chasing after your entire life. 

Tag list:

@shelbyteller, @martygraciesversion381, @samantha-chicago, @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland, @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @lieutenantchaos @willowsnook @linnygirl09 @meglouise00 @mixedstyles @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies @mrosales16 @charlesgirl16 @leclercdream @daemyratwst @dramaticpiratellamas @mochimommy2002 @llando4norris @iamaunknownsecret @maxivstappen @imlonelydontsendhelp @nina-or-anna-or-nora @a1leexxa @littlegrapejuice @sunflowervol18 @freyathehuntress @finn-dot-com @swiftie-4-lifes-stuff @chirasama @lauralarsen @dr3wstarkey @saskiaalonso @rbv3rstappen @ilovechickenwings @guaaafiiburg @mcmuppet @mindless-rock @piastri-fvx @mel164 @schumi-angel @myescapefromthislife @supertrashbread @sunny44 @tinystudentblaze-stuff @sarx164

[dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling]

Could I pretty please hear what you would think about a platonic Doey X autistic player?

Shoutout to my fellow autistic poppy playtime fans, we cannot be stopped >:)

If you like my work, please consider commissioning me :)

Doey & autistic Player

★ Doey is no stranger to people who are on the spectrum, plenty of his old friends from Home Sweet Home had special needs. You shouldn't feel any kind of shame over who you are! If you did, Doey would be quick to knock some sense into you.

★ In that situation, Doey's playful side would come out. "Alright, listen up! You're incredible, and I won't let you feel bad about yourself. Being a bit different than others is not a flaw—it's a part of you. And personally, I think your pretty great!"

★ Feeling overstimulated? If possible, he will adjust the environment as needed. Turning down lights if they are too bright, giving you a blanket with a nice texture and asking the other toys to play quietly.

★ He always asks for permission before getting close to you. Knowing that sometimes it can be a big no. "Hey buddy, is it okay if I stand here? I don't want to make you uncomfortable." Followed by him hastily adding "If you ever feel uncomfortable, just let me know, okay?"

★ Doey gets really upset if someone messes with you. His eyes narrow, the usually jovial demeanor shifting into something more serious. He takes a deep breath, trying to keep his cool before speaking. "Hey, that's not okay. You need to stop. Right now."

★ Internally, Doey is seething with anger. He hates to see anyone treated badly. But chances are the person who was being rude was just a toy who didn't really understand what they were doing. If that's the case, he takes the time to explain why what they did was so wrong.

[meinii]

“be my valentine forever”

summary: it’s valentine’s day, but you haven’t even heard from Sylus. he must have forgotten… or so you thought

content: fluff

୨୧･｡｡･♡･∴･♡･｡｡･୨୧

valentine’s day had never been a big deal to you—at least, that’s what you always told yourself. but this year, it felt different. maybe it was because everyone at work had been receiving flowers, chocolates, and gifts all day.

maybe it was because you had seen couples walking hand in hand, smiling, whispering sweet nothings to each other

or maybe it was because Sylus, your arrogant, smug, too-clever-for-his-own-good lover, hadn’t even mentioned valentine’s day once

you knew he was busy. ruling over Onychinus wasn’t exactly a nine-to-five job, and he had a habit of getting wrapped up in his own plans. but still… not even a text? not even a simple happy valentine’s day?

so by the time your shift ended, irritation had settled in. you walked out of the building, ready to head home and sulk—only to freeze in your tracks

because standing right outside, dressed in his usual sharp black blazer draped over his shoulders, was Sylus

and in his hands? a massive bouquet of red roses, dark petals velvety and rich. an expensive-looking box of chocolates sat on top of them, tied with a sleek ribbon

his red eyes found yours instantly, sharp as ever, but there was something playful in them, something teasing

“took you long enough” he said, his lips curving into that knowing smirk

you crossed your arms, trying to keep up the front of being mad. “oh? now you remember valentine’s day?”

Sylus let out a low chuckle, stepping closer, the scent of roses and his cologne mixing in the air. “did you really think I’d forget?” he tilted his head slightly “you wound me”

“you didn’t say anything all day.”

he leaned down, close enough that his breath brushed your cheek

“because I was planning a surprise”

before you could protest, he slipped an arm around your waist and led you toward his car—a sleek, black vehicle that practically screamed power and wealth

“get in” he said, opening the door for you

“and if I say no?” you teased, still holding onto your stubbornness

his smirk deepened “then I’ll just carry you.”

you huffed but slid into the car anyway, pretending not to notice the way your heart was racing. once Sylus was behind the wheel, the drive was smooth, the city lights flashing past. you wanted to ask where you were going, but the way he kept glancing at you, amusement dancing in his eyes, told you he wouldn’t spill

when the car finally came to a stop, you blinked in surprise

“the luna park?”

but something was off. it was quiet. no lines. no crowds

Sylus got out first, walking around to open your door before holding out his hand

“rented it for the night,” he said, as if it was the most casual thing in the world “figured we deserved some privacy.”

your mouth fell open slightly “you… rented out an entire amusement park?”

he hummed “it’s valentine’s day, isn’t it? I don’t like sharing.”

your irritation melted instantly, replaced by warmth so strong it made your chest ache.

taking his hand, you let him lead you inside, the colorful lights of the park reflecting in his red eyes

the first thing he did was take you to one of the stalls, where plushies lined the shelves as prizes

“which one do you want?” he asked

you pointed at a soft-looking crow plush, its dark feathers making it stand out among the rest

Sylus arched a brow but didn’t question it

instead, he rolled up his sleeves, picked up one of the balls, and in a single throw, knocked down every target with effortless precision

the worker—who must’ve been paid well to stay late—looked half-impressed, half-terrified as he handed over the crow plush.

Sylus placed it in your arms, his fingers brushing against yours

“it suits you” he murmured

“because you gave it to me?”

his smirk softened, just slightly “because it’ll remind you of me”

you couldn’t help but laugh, hugging the plush to your chest. as the night went on, you rode the ferris wheel, played more games (where Sylus, unsurprisingly, never missed a shot), and even bought matching headbands—yours with little stars, his with tiny black horns

“I’m not wearing this” he said at first

“please?” you tilted your head, giving him your best pleading look

he sighed, muttering something under his breath, but he put it on. and even though he pretended to be unimpressed, he didn’t take it off for the rest of the night.

eventually, you both found a bench near the carousel, the distant sound of music filling the air. you pulled out the box of chocolates he had given you earlier and opened it, picking up one of the pieces

“eat with me” you said, offering him one

Sylus glanced at it, then at you “I don’t eat sweets”

“just one,” you insisted “for valentine’s day”

he sighed again, but when you placed the chocolate against his lips, he didn’t pull away

instead, he let you feed it to him, his gaze never leaving yours as he bit down

“happy now?” he asked, voice lower than before

you grinned, popping a piece into your own mouth “very”

there was a brief silence, the world around you feeling far away. Sylus reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek before settling at the back of your neck, pulling you closer

“be mine,” he murmured “not just today, forever.”

your heart skipped a beat “is that your way of asking me to be your valentine?”

his lips twitched “do I even need to ask?”

you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss against his lips, tasting the lingering sweetness of chocolate “yes,” you whispered “forever.”

Sylus smiled against your lips, and for once, there was no arrogance in it. just something deep, something real

[sweaterkittensahoy]

If you don't protect the art you don't like, the art you do like will eventually make it to the ban list. That's how fascism work. And trying to outlaw sex scenes in books is fascism.

This happened in the 1950s with comic books. The anti-crime crowd said, "OMG you can't have comic books showing crimes! People will do crimes! CHILDREN WILL DO CRIMES!" And so crime comics were bad. And banned. And burned. And then they went for the horror comics because "OMG THE CHILDREN CAN'T SEE THESE IMAGES". And they made it harder to ship "objectionable" materials--a term whose meaning changed as decided on a whim, basically, and finally, the comic book publishers who were desperately trying to just tell some fucking stories came together and said, "Okay. Okay. Look. If we write up a code for comics like we have the Hays Code for film, will you fuck off?"

And all the people gleefully banning comic books went, "OMG YES THAT'S ALL WE WANTED."

But it wasn't. What they wanted was to remove "undesirable" literature from the masses (back in the 1950s, the general public read a lot of comics; it was not the more niche experience of today). And when the publishers came up with the comics code, they banned too much violence and they banned horror and they banned any depictions of crime where the bad guys might win because they knew if they didn't, the entire industry would be absolutely obliterated by the fascist anti-intellectuals who only wanted "good" and "wholesome" stories.

The reason the silver age of comics is so fucking bizarre is because you couldn't show certain weapons because they were banned by the comics code, and if you didn't have the approval of the comics code, your comic didn't get printed. It was only the underground comix scene in the 70s that finally got enough traction to take comics out of its forced sterilization of story and get it back on track as a storytelling medium that is finally as broad and wild and interesting as it was back before the anti-intellectuals disguised as "think of the children" activists got their hands on it.

If people had stood up back then and defends an art form that they didn't like rather than sit back and let the government run roughshod over an entire artistic industry, comics would be a very different thing right now.

If we don't stand up now and say, "Leave the books alone. People have a right to choose what they read. This is fascism, and you should be ashamed," this will build and build and build until possibly whole genres of books are banned.

You MUST protect art you don't like. It's the only way to protect the art you DO like.

For all those who complain about explicit “smutty” books or smut in fic in general:

Just be aware that a bill has been introduced in Oklahoma’s state senate (SB 593) that would make writing/publishing/owning an explicit romance book a felony.

So, when you come on here to espouse your “anti pro-ship” nonsense, or moan about how hard it is to find fics/art/books that aren’t “smutty” — know that this is the effect. You are being used as mouthpieces to help feed and perpetuate censorship. There is no room for censorship in fiction because it will never stop at what you deem morally “right”. It is about control and the restriction of speech. Your discomfort with sex in media does not make it wrong, and it certainly doesn’t mean you get to advocate for its restriction.

Do not be pawns in the far-right’s game. Do not call yourselves allys of any kind if you are willingly feeding into a pillar of far right extremism. It will not stop where you think it “should.”

[heeluvv]

rockstar!jay who fucks you senseless in the dressing room/limo after a show all sweaty and in heat from the adrenaline 🥰🧸

okayyy wait bc i love this request, (did it a bit different but still) so here it is!

𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌 𝄞

pairing ♪ rockstar! park jongseong x style consultant! reader

genre ♪ smut

warnings ♪ p in v, unprotected sex, etc.

natty's notes ♪ mdni, hate comments will be deleted.

working at a high-end boutique in the heart of the city, you’ve seen your fair share of celebrities. actors, models, influencers—people who walk in draped in designer labels, their egos just as expensive as the clothes they buy. you’re used to the way they scan the store, looking for exclusivity, for something rare, something to set them apart.

you’ve learned to stay detached, polite but distant. no one ever stays long enough to remember your name anyway.

but when he walks in, something shifts.

jay fucking park.

rockstar, guitarist, frontman of the most infamous band of the decade. the kind of man whose presence changes the energy of a room the second he steps inside. and now, he’s standing just a few feet away from you.

black boots heavy against the marble floor. silver rings glinting under the soft boutique lighting. a fitted leather jacket hugging his frame, worn and broken in, like it’s been through the kind of nights people write songs about. his dark, tousled hair falls just over his sharp eyes, and he pushes it back with a hand that’s littered with silver and ink.

his gaze lands on you.

there’s a flicker of something in his expression—amusement, curiosity. he takes you in, slow and deliberate, the weight of his attention pinning you in place.

"hello, welcome. what can i do for you?" you ask politely, keeping your tone professional despite the man standing in front of you.

jay fucking park.

his presence is overwhelming, even in the soft, elegant lighting of the boutique. the air around him seems heavier, charged with the kind of energy only someone like him carries—someone untouchable, yet standing right here, waiting for you to assist him like he’s just another client.

he doesn’t respond immediately. instead, he watches you, his gaze sharp, assessing, lingering a beat too long. and then, the corner of his lips tugs upward into the faintest smirk.

"i'm looking for something to wear tonight," he says, his voice smooth, dipped in amusement. "something that’ll turn heads. more than i already do."

cocky. effortless. the kind of arrogance that should be off-putting, but coming from him, it feels natural—like he’s earned the right to say it. because he has.

still, you school your expression, keeping your reaction buried deep.

"of course," you say evenly. "we have a few selections i think you’d like."

without waiting for a response, you turn on your heel, leading him through the boutique, toward a more secluded section—where the real exclusives are kept.

but you feel it.

his eyes.

scanning you, slow and unashamed, dragging over the curve of your waist, the dip of your back, lingering just a little too long lower than they should. it should make you uncomfortable, but instead, a quiet thrill hums beneath your skin.

you ignore it.

the racks ahead are lined with clothes that scream power—pieces meant for those who belong under flashing lights, those who are the moment. if you were a star, this is what you’d go for. something bold, something that demands attention.

but you’re not.

you’re here, stuck assisting the people who are everything you want to be.

jay steps beside you, close enough that you catch the faint scent of leather and something richer, something undeniably him.

"these," you say, motioning toward the selection. "they’d suit you."

he doesn’t look at the clothes.

he looks at you.

and you’re not sure whether it’s the boutique lighting or something else entirely, but his gaze feels hotter now, heavier. like he’s considering something far beyond fabric and fit.

“yeah?” his voice is lower now, threaded with something unreadable.

you swallow, steadying yourself.

“yeah.”

jay makes his selection quickly, barely sparing a glance at the price tags as he pulls items from the racks—pieces that match the effortless kind of allure he carries. he doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t second-guess. it’s like he already knows what will look good on him, and really, why wouldn’t he?

one of his assistants steps forward, arms already filled with the chosen clothes. jay doesn’t even acknowledge them, his focus trained on you instead. when he turns to face you, that smirk is still there, lazy and knowing, like he’s enjoying the way you try—and fail—to act unaffected.

“where’s your dressing room, princess?”

the pet name rolls off his tongue too easily, too smooth. it shouldn’t sound as good as it does. shouldn’t make your stomach tighten the way it does.

but it does.

you hate that you react, that you feel the way you do. your breath catches, and heat licks up your spine as you press your thighs together, forcing yourself to appear unaffected.

still, the words don’t come as quickly as you want them to.

“towards the left…” you finally manage, voice quieter than intended.

jay hums, his amusement only growing. he takes a step closer, and the air between you shifts—electric, heavier.

“could you lead the way again?”

it’s not really a question.

your throat tightens, but you don’t respond. you just turn on your heel and start walking, pulse hammering as you make your way down the dimly lit hallway leading to the private dressing rooms. you can hear him following, his footsteps slow, deliberate, stretching the tension between you even further.

reaching one of the spacious, high-end fitting rooms, you push the door open, stepping aside to let him in. the space is sleek, lined with floor-to-ceiling mirrors and a plush bench in the center.

jay nods toward his assistant. “leave them inside.”

the assistant quickly does as told, placing the clothes neatly on the padded seat. but when they step back, jay doesn’t follow them. he stays put. right next to you.

then, just as casually as he commands everything else, he adds, “wait by the entrance.”

his assistant hesitates, just for a second, like they, too, are confused. but they don’t question him. they nod and disappear down the hallway, leaving just the two of you in the doorway of the private fitting room.

your brows furrow slightly, but you don’t say anything.

you should question it.

but you don’t.

because his gaze is already back on you—intent, unreadable. like he’s considering something.

and for some reason, you don’t move.

he doesn’t wait. not a second longer.

before you can process it, before you can take a steadying breath, jay's hands are on you—firm, calculated—as he pushes you inside the dressing room. the door clicks shut behind him, sealing you both inside, and suddenly, the air feels hotter, heavier.

your back barely meets the mirror wall before his lips crash against yours.

it steals the breath from your lungs, leaves you dizzy, caught in the force of him—of his heat, his urgency, the way he doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t second-guess. your gasp barely makes it past your lips before you respond in kind, hands reaching, gripping onto the back of his neck, threading into his dark hair as you pull him closer.

he takes it as an invitation—like he was waiting for it.

his hands find your waist, fingers digging in just enough to make you shiver before he lifts you, like you weigh nothing, pressing you against the cool mirror behind you. the contrast of heat and cold sends a shock down your spine, but it’s nothing compared to the way he looks at you now—lips swollen, breath unsteady, eyes dark with something unreadable.

his smirk is still there, lazy and amused, like he’s won a game you didn’t even realize you were playing.

“thought acting all unaffected wouldn’t be too obvious, princess?” he taunts, his voice low, teasing, sending a sharp thrill down your spine.

you open your mouth—maybe to deny it, maybe to tell him where he can shove that cocky smirk—but then he shakes his head, clicking his tongue, his breath warm against your lips.

“i see right through you,” he murmurs, a soft chuckle leaving him before his lips crash back onto yours.

this kiss is rougher, deeper—like he’s trying to pull something from you, something you weren’t ready to admit. his hands move, fingers fumbling with the buttons of your suit uniform, grazing against the fabric in a way that has heat coiling low in your stomach.

you can barely think.

because this is happening.

you are kissing jay fucking park.

in a dressing room.

and god, you don’t want it to stop.

he doesn’t waste a second.

your suit jacket is stripped off in a matter of moments, the expensive fabric crumpling onto the floor, forgotten. his hands move with practiced ease, working at the buttons of your crisp white shirt, undoing them one by one in a frenzy. his breathing is heavier now, uneven, as he pushes the fabric aside, revealing the delicate lace of your white bra.

jay stills for a moment, his gaze darkening as he takes in the sight.

he groans lowly, the sound vibrating deep in his chest. “fuck…”

his fingers brush over the lace, featherlight, almost reverent. the material cups your breasts perfectly, hugging your skin in a way that makes it look like it was meant to slip off. the sight of you like this—flushed, breathless, pinned against the mirror—has something primal flickering behind his eyes.

“you’re so fucking hot,” he mutters, voice rough, strained with something dangerously close to desperation.

before you can respond, his lips are on you again, but this time, they travel lower, down the curve of your jaw, trailing the length of your throat. his kisses are slow, deliberate, each one pressed into your skin like he’s leaving his mark—like he wants to leave his mark.

his teeth graze the sensitive spot just beneath your ear, and when he bites down, just enough to make you feel it, a soft gasp escapes your lips.

his smirk returns against your skin.

“like that, princess?” he taunts, voice a low whisper against your pulse.

you don’t even try to hide the way your body responds.

“fuck, jay…” you grunt, your head tilting back, pressing against the cool surface of the mirror, granting him more access.

he takes full advantage of it, his lips moving lower, mouth open, sucking at the delicate skin of your neck, his tongue swiping over the bruises he leaves behind.

heat pools in your stomach, burning, unrelenting.

he’s everywhere—all over you, consuming every breath, every thought—until there’s nothing else but him.

your breath hitches as his hungry mouth finds your breast, lips enveloping the soft flesh before pulling back to let his teeth graze and nip, sending shockwaves of sensation coursing through you. moans spill from your lips, filling the room with a symphony of desire, but there's no need for silence; the world outside has faded away, leaving only the two of you in this secret, secluded haven.

his knee presses insistently between your thighs as he tugs at your pants, peeling them away along with your panties, baring you completely. he mirrors your state, kicking off his own pants, and your eyes are drawn to his thick, hard length. a whimper escapes your lips, a flicker of doubt crossing your mind. will it fit? he sees your hesitation, eyes dark with desire and reassurance. "i'll make it fit, baby.." he murmurs, his voice a low growl as he positions himself at your entrance, pushing in with a groan. the feeling of you, tight and hot, gripping him like a vice, sends waves of pleasure crashing over him. you cry out, his name a litany on your lips as he stretches you, fills you completely, your bodies joined in a dance as old as time.

Your hands clutch onto his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh as his powerful hands grip underneath your thighs, driving his rock-hard cock into you with a desperate, primal rhythm. "Fuck, baby… you're so fucking tight…" he groans, his breath hot on the nape of your neck, your head thrown back against the cool mirror. You're in heaven, barely able to believe the intensity of the moment, the sheer ecstasy of his body against yours.

he pistons into you, each thrust more urgent than the last, shifting positions to plunge deeper, to feel more of you. suddenly, he flips you around, your breasts and cheeks pressed firmly against the mirror, its cold surface a stark contrast to the heat of your bodies. he enters you from behind, his cock drilling into you with relentless passion. "look how fucking good you look, baby… taking my dick so well, huh?" he groans, sweat beading on his forehead, his lips constantly caught between his teeth in a futile attempt to suppress louder moans. he fails miserably, unable to contain his pleasure as you clench around him, your body milking his with each thrust. the room fills with the raw, carnal sounds of your passion, a symphony of desire and release.

your breath hitches as you cry out, "jay, fuck! i'm going to cum!" your legs quiver beneath him, no longer pressed against the fogged-up mirror, but now sprawled on the velvet bench in the dressing room's heart. your back arches like a bow against him as you lay on your stomach, his hand firmly gripping your neck, the other clutching your waist, pulling you back to meet his relentless thrusts. "gonna cum for me, princess?" he growls, his voice a ragged whisper, his length throbbing inside you as he nears his own release.

"fuck, fuck, jay!" you gasp, your eyes rolling back, your body convulsing as he increases his pace, his hips slapping against you. your inner muscles clench around him, a tight, pulsating grip that sends waves of pleasure crashing through you.

"fuck yeah, baby…" he groans, his voice rough and primal, his head thrown back, tendons straining in his neck. he can feel you, your climax imminent, your body tensing around him. you shatter with a cry, your release drenching him, your body shaking beneath him. he plunges deep, deeper than before, filling you completely as he finds his own release, his hot climax spilling into you, overflowing. maybe, just maybe, your job wasn't so bad after all.

natty's notes ♪ i hope you enjoyed!

[heliosunny]

PLEASE IM BEGGING LIKE THE BIGGEST BEGGAR IN THE WORLD DO A DAN HENG LUCKY EGG FIC( Unless you don’t want to!)

LUCKY EGG

Yandere!Dan Heng x Reader

You didn’t expect much when you got the egg. Sure, it looked a little different compared to normal eggs people got, but that was normal, right?

For the next three days, you never let it out of your sight. And then, the feeling of being watched started. At first, you thought it was your imagination. By the third day, your unease had turned into a quiet, gnawing dread.

That night, as you walked home with the egg cradled against your chest, a shadow moved.

Before you could react, a figure lunged from the darkness. A hand snatched at the egg.

"Hand it over!"

Instinctively, you held it tighter. "No."

"Then I'll just have to take it myself."

A flash of silver—a weapon.

You barely had time to flinch before-

Crack

A burst of blinding teal light exploded from the egg, knocking the intruder back. The warmth in your arms vanished as something took its place.

A young man now stood before you. Dark, messy hair, his expression calm but unreadable. He stepped in front of you, placing himself between you and the attacker.

"Step away from them."

The assailant cursed under their breath before lunging again.

With startling speed, the man deflected the strike, the enemy barely had time to react before he countered, sending them stumbling back. Realizing the fight was unwinnable, they vanished into the night.

You clutched the empty eggshell, heart hammering, struggling to process what just happened.

The young man turned, his gaze scanning you carefully.

“Are you hurt?”

You shook your head slowly.

“…Good.”

But before you could even think of a response, a sudden force yanked at your chest.

A sharp, invisible pull tightened between you and Dan Heng-his name suddenly came to you, an unnatural bond snapping into place. You weren’t the only one who felt it, Dan Heng’s hand clenched into a fist, his brows furrowing as if testing something unseen.

“…It seems we are bound together.”

“What?”

Dan Heng’s words settled heavily between you.

You stared at him. “What do you mean… bound?”

Dan Heng’s expression was unreadable as he lifted his hand, fingers flexing slightly—as if testing the invisible force between you.

“I can feel it” he murmured. “A connection.” His sharp eyes flickered to you. “And so can you.”

Now that he mentioned it…

There was something tugging at your chest. A strange, lingering warmth linking you to him, like a thin, invisible thread pulling taut whenever you moved too far away.

“What the hell is this?” You instinctively took a step back.

Dan Heng didn’t stop you—he didn’t need to. The moment you moved too far, a dull ache formed at your core, forcing you to halt.

Dan Heng’s eyes narrowed. “It won’t let us separate.”

You swallowed hard, fighting the unease creeping up your spine. “Is this… because of the egg?”

“Most likely.” Dan Heng let out a slow exhale, his voice calm despite the situation. “Something unnatural happened when I hatched.”

No kidding.

You clenched the broken remnants of the egg in your hands, staring at the glowing fragments. This wasn’t normal. None of this was normal.

Dan Heng studied you carefully. “Does it hurt?”

You shook your head. “Not really… Just weird.”

He nodded. “Then we should find out how to undo it.”

Right. That made sense.

You didn’t know Dan Heng, and he didn’t know you. Staying attached like this wasn’t ideal for either of you.

But before you could say anything else, that feeling of being watched returned.

Your body tensed. “They’re still here.”

Dan Heng was already looking past you. He was silent for a moment before speaking again, voice lower this time.

“Come with me.”

You barely had time to react before he grabbed your wrist and pulled you along. The two of you disappeared into the night.

The inn was quiet, tucked away in an alley far from prying eyes. It wasn’t the most luxurious place, but it would do for the night.

Dan Heng took a seat on the small wooden chair in the corner, silent as he assessed the room. You, on the other hand, dropped onto the bed, exhausted from the night’s chaos.

“…I’ll bathe first” you muttered, rubbing your temples.

Dan Heng nodded, offering no objections. He was still tense, likely on alert in case your pursuer returned.

Steam curled from the bathroom as you let the hot water wash away the tension in your body. By the time you emerged, towel-drying your hair, you noticed something was different.

That strange, invisible pull? Gone.

You tested it cautiously, taking a few steps away from Dan Heng. No resistance. No ache. Nothing.

Dan Heng must have felt it too. He lifted a brow. “It’s gone.”

You nodded, unsure whether to feel relieved or concerned. Why had it disappeared so suddenly?

Dan Heng stood, “I’ll bathe next.”

You collapsed onto the bed. The momentary separation felt… odd. But you brushed it aside.

When Dan Heng returned, hair damp and sleeves rolled up as he towel-dried it, you caught sight of a faint scratch on his forearm.

“Did you get that earlier?” you asked.

He followed your gaze, barely sparing it a glance. “It’s nothing.”

“Still.” You grabbed a small first-aid kit from the bedside drawer. “Let me see.”

Dan Heng didn’t move, but he didn’t stop you either.

You carefully cleaned the scratch, applying a light bandage. “There. Should be fine now.”

Dan Heng watched your hands for a second before meeting your eyes. “…Thank you.”

You blinked. He was so stoic most of the time that the simple gratitude caught you off guard.

“Yeah, well.” You leaned back. “It’d be a pain if you got sick over something so small.”

Dan Heng huffed lightly, almost amused.

The atmosphere felt… more comfortable now.

For the first time since this night started, you didn’t feel like strangers.

The inn had only one bed. You figured Dan Heng wouldn’t mind sharing—after all, he had just saved your life.

But as expected, the moment you suggested it, he refused.

“I’ll sleep on the floor” he said simply, already grabbing a spare pillow.

You rolled your eyes. “You just fought someone, ran through half a forest, and got scratched up in the process. You need the bed.”

With an exasperated sigh, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him in.

Dan Heng stiffened at the sudden touch, but you didn’t let go. “Just sleep. I don’t mind.”

Ultimately, he relented, slipping under the blanket beside you—though he kept a noticeable distance.

You didn’t push it. Exhaustion weighed on you like a stone, and before you knew it, sleep took over.

A faint creak of the floor. The softest rustle of fabric.

Dan Heng’s eyes snapped open.

Intruders.

Before he could react, a hand clamped over his mouth, and a sharp pressure point strike numbed his limbs.

His vision blurred for a split second, but his focus remained sharp. They had waited until you were deep in sleep, ensuring you wouldn’t wake no matter what.

Dan Heng struggled, but his body refused to cooperate. He was lifted and carried away, the door closing behind them without a sound.

And you?

Still asleep, blissfully unaware.

You woke up to emptiness. The bed beside you was cold. The blanket was untouched, and Dan Heng was gone.

You knew something was wrong. You could feel it—not just instinctively, but physically. A sharp pull, like an invisible string tugging at your very core. It yanked you forward, as if guiding you somewhere.

Without hesitation, you threw on your shoes and bolted out of the inn.

Your feet led you through winding streets, across empty alleyways, and towards an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. The closer you got, the more intense the feeling became.

When you reached the entrance, muffled voices reached your ears.

“…We know you came from the egg.”

Then, a sharp sound—a syringe being pressed into skin.

Dan Heng let out a strained breath. His usual composed presence was cracking. You peered through a small opening. He was tied to a chair, his head lowered, his breath uneven. His body trembled, muscles twitching unnaturally. Whatever they had injected him with, it was forcing a reaction out of him.

One of the men stepped closer. "If you won't talk, we'll just—"

With the element of surprise on your side, you grabbed the nearest metal rod and slammed it into the first guy’s head. He crumpled instantly. The second turned, but you had already kicked him square in the ribs, knocking the wind out of him. You twisted the third man's arm back and sent him crashing into the interrogation table.

Three down.

Your chest heaved, adrenaline still buzzing in your veins. Then, you turned to Dan Heng.

His head was still lowered, his fingers curled tightly into fists. His breathing had grown heavier—not from exhaustion, but from something else.

You approached carefully. “Dan Heng…?”

A tremor ran through his body. Slowly, he lifted his head.

And his eyes— Not the calm, reserved gaze you knew.

The moment your eyes met, you knew this wasn’t Dan Heng.

His usually composed expression was gone, replaced by something feral. His chest heaved, his muscles tensed, and the eerie glow of his newly-formed horns cast an unnatural light against the dim room.

Then, he lunged. You barely managed to dodge in time. His fingers grazed your shoulder, sharp nails cutting through fabric. He wasn’t holding back.

"Dan Heng, snap out of it!" you shouted, ducking under his next strike.

But there was no response.

His attacks were relentless, each blow precise, deadly.

Your back hit the wall.

His hand shot out, aiming straight for your throat.

And in that moment, his body gave out.

Dan Heng collapsed right in front of you.

The tension in the air vanished. His breath came in sharp gasps, his body still trembling from whatever those men had done to him.

You didn’t waste time.

You dragged him home.

A day passed.

You sat beside his unconscious form, watching for any sign of change. The bond between you had flickered—then disappeared entirely.

And his body…

His features were different now.

His ears— sharper, more elongated. His horns— translucent green, curling back in the shape of a dragon’s. Whoever those men were, they must have known. They were after Dan Heng’s power.

When he finally woke up, his body tensed immediately. His gaze landed on you, and for a moment, you feared he’d attack again.

Then, slowly, his breathing steadied.

“…You are alive.” His voice was hoarse.

“Of course I did.” You frowned. “Though you almost killed me, you know that?”

“…I know.” His fingers curled into the sheets. “And yet, you didn’t leave.”

“You can explain later.”

You reached out carefully, brushing his bangs back to check for a fever. His new horns brushed against your wrist.

For now, you’d both deal with the consequences together.

Dan Heng sat on the edge of the bed, fingers lightly brushing against one of his newly-formed horns. His expression was unreadable, but the tension in his shoulders was clear.

You crossed your arms, staring at him. "Why did you turn into...that?"

He glanced up at you, his sharp blue-green eyes filled with uncertainty. "I don’t know."

Most of his human form had returned, but some of the dragon-like features remained. His elongated ears, his translucent green horns… they were all still there.

He looked down at his own hands. "I shouldn’t have changed in the first place. I was… altered."

"Well, you came from the egg I got, so that makes you my responsibility."

"You say that so easily."

"Because it’s the truth," you shot back. "You’re new to life here, right? You don’t even know how things work. If I leave you alone, you might get kidnapped again."

He couldn’t argue with that.

"Come on. You need to learn how to live like a normal person."

“…You’re seriously taking this upon yourself?"

"Obviously. If I don’t, who will?" You raised an eyebrow. "Unless you'd rather run around in the open and get captured again?"

“…Very well. I’ll leave myself in your care.”

For now, you’d carry on.

At first, you didn’t think much of it.

Dan Heng adjusted quickly to life here, following your instructions without complaint. He wasn’t much of a talker, but he listened, observed, and adapted well.

And then… you started noticing something strange.

One morning, as he sat at the small dining table, sipping the tea you made, you caught something in your peripheral vision—his horns were fading.

You blinked. Was it a trick of the light?

But then later that day, after you dragged him to the market (much to his dismay), his horns reappeared. His sharp ears elongated again, and—most alarming of all—he briefly grew a tail.

You nearly choked on air when you saw it.

Luckily, it vanished quickly, but you had seen it.

"Dan Heng" you called, suspicious.

He looked at you, unfazed. "What?"

You squinted. "…Are you aware that you’re…changing?"

He froze for a fraction of a second, but that was enough confirmation.

You crossed your arms. "Your horns. Your ears. A tail, Dan Heng. What’s causing it?"

His eyes flickered downward. A thoughtful silence stretched between you before he finally admitted, "I don't know. But…" his gaze met yours again, "It only seems to happen when I feel… displeased."

You stared at him. "So you're telling me… the more annoyed you get, the more dragon-like you become?"

He nodded.

You groaned, rubbing your temples. "Great. So I just have to keep you happy or else you’ll start sprouting more parts?"

Dan Heng didn’t answer immediately. Instead, his expression shifted—just slightly. His usual calm mask gave way to something more… pleased.

And in that moment, his horns… faded.

Wait a damn minute.

Your eyes narrowed. "…You like hearing that, don’t you?"

Dan Heng tilted his head, feigning innocence

You had a feeling this was going to be a huge problem.

You weren’t one to leave things unexplored—especially not something this bizarre.

So naturally, you had to test it out.

Test #1: Jealousy

Dan Heng rarely reacted strongly to anything. He was composed, observant, and rarely raised his voice. But you needed to see if strong emotions—specifically negative ones—would bring his features back.

So, you made him jealous.

It was subtle at first. A passing remark about someone at the market being “pretty nice.” An offhand comment about how they “seemed dependable.”

Dan Heng didn’t react outwardly.

But when you jokingly mentioned that someone offered to “show you around sometime,” his sharp ears reappeared.

You almost dropped what you were holding.

Dan Heng noticed too. He frowned, touching his ear. “That’s—”

Gotcha.

“Relax," you waved a hand, feigning innocence. "I was just talking."

He narrowed his eyes slightly. But after a long, assessing look, his ears faded again.

Test #2: Comfort

Later that evening, after he bathed, you casually offered, "Want me to dry your hair?"

"That’s unnecessary—"

"Sit!" you ordered, grabbing a towel.

Dan Heng hesitated but complied.

You gently ruffled the towel through his damp hair, fingers lightly brushing his scalp. You expected him to tense—but to your surprise, he relaxed almost instantly.

And then, in real time, his horns disappeared.

"Something wrong?" he murmured, his voice oddly softer than usual.

You exhaled. "…No."

But internally, you were screaming.

Test #3: Annoyance

The next day, he accidentally broke your favorite dish.

It wasn’t his fault—it slipped from the counter. But you sighed dramatically and gave him a look of disappointment.

Dan Heng immediately grew a tail.

The absolute panic on his face made you bite back laughter. He glared at you, realizing what was happening.

"You’re doing this on purpose" he accused.

"Me?" You blinked innocently. "Never."

He narrowed his eyes. But his tail disappeared soon after.

Final Test: Sleeping Together

One night, as you prepared for bed, you hesitated before asking, “Is it okay if I hug you to sleep?”

Dan Heng didn’t answer right away. But after a long moment, he nodded.

You took it as permission and settled beside him, arms loosely wrapping around his waist. His body was warm—steady. For once, he wasn’t tense.

And then—

His dragon features faded entirely.

Dan Heng noticed immediately. “What?”

You pulled back slightly, staring at him. "You're… normal again."

His breath hitched slightly. He glanced down at himself—his hands, his reflection in the dim window. His horns, ears, tail—all gone.

Silence filled the room.

Then, in a low voice, he muttered, “…So I need you close to stay like this?”

That might be a problem. But you are still testing it out.

----

You’d caught Dan Heng using his water manipulation abilities more than once.

At first, it was small things—drying dishes without a towel, cooling his tea without ice, sneaking a splash into his bath without touching the faucet.

But then, he started abusing it.

One evening, you walked into the living room only to see the floor miraculously cleaning itself. A thin layer of water swept across the wooden panels, neatly gathering dust into a single puddle before disappearing entirely.

Dan Heng stood nearby, looking completely indifferent—as if he hadn’t just commanded the water like a personal cleaning tool.

You folded your arms. “Really?”

He didn’t even flinch. “It’s efficient.”

You squinted. “It’s lazy.”

He turned his head slightly, not denying it.

After that, he got sneakier. Whenever you weren’t looking, something would conveniently be cleaned, cooled, or wiped away.

You caught him again a few days later. This time, he vanished the evidence before you could properly scold him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” he said flatly, even as the faintest ripple of water shimmered at his fingertips.

----

One day, you brought two friends home.

Caiyu—a friendly, outgoing woman with a sharp tongue, and Ren—a male friend who was, in your opinion, just a little too clingy.

Dan Heng immediately did not like him.

At first, he was quiet. Watching from the side. But every time Ren leaned in—too close, too casual—Dan Heng’s brows furrowed just a little deeper.

Then, one moment, Ren reached out, casually touching your shoulder. Not anything inappropriate—just a familiar gesture.

A chill ran through the air. Your tea, which had been warm seconds ago, suddenly turned ice cold.

You paused, frowning at the cup. “Huh…?”

Caiyu looked between you and Dan Heng, her eyes narrowing.

Ren, completely oblivious, continued talking.

Dan Heng didn’t say a word. But the next time Ren got too close, the humidity in the room mysteriously spiked.

Ren tugged at his collar. “Why is it so stuffy in here all of a sudden…?”

Caiyu, still watching, slowly smirked. “Oh, I think I know why.”

You, still oblivious, just nodded. “Yeah, weird weather today.”

Dan Heng, standing nearby, simply took a sip of his still-hot tea.

After Caiyu and Ren left, you finally turned your attention back to Dan Heng—only to pause.

The horns were back.

Sharp, translucent green, curling from his head like some majestic beast of legend. His ears had sharpened too, and there was something… tense about his posture.

“…You good?”

Dan Heng didn’t answer immediately.

“Do you always let others cling to you like that?”

“…Huh?”

“Ren.”

“What about him?”

Dan Heng exhaled slowly, as if holding something back.

You, still completely clueless, smirked. “What, are you jealous?”

That was meant to be a joke. But the way Dan Heng didn’t immediately deny it made your smirk waver.

…Wait.

Before you could press the topic further, a sudden movement caught your eye.

A cockroach.

Right there. On the floor. Near your foot.

“—GAH?!”

Panic shot through you instantly. Without thinking, you jumped onto Dan Heng, clinging to him with zero shame.

“GET RID OF IT!!!!!!” you yelped, burying your face into his shoulder.

You didn’t notice his reaction, too busy clutching onto him like your life depended on it. “Dan Heng, I swear to everything, if you let that thing crawl near me—”

He finally spoke. “…I will. On one condition.”

Your head snapped up. “What? What condition?”

Dan Heng’s gaze was unreadable, but his horns shimmered slightly under the light. His fingers ghosted over your back before settling at your waist.

“Stay like this a little longer.”

“…Excuse me?”

Dan Heng’s hold on you was firm but not forceful, his fingers pressing lightly at your waist like he was testing something. Meanwhile, the cockroach was still there.

“You heard me.” His voice was impossibly calm, but there was something else in it—something almost amused. “I’ll get rid of it. But you stay like this a little longer.”

You were about to argue, to call him out for using a life-threatening situation to his advantage—

Then the cockroach moved.

“…Fine.” You clung onto him harder, burying your face into his shoulder with zero dignity. “Just get rid of it already.”

Dan Heng exhaled, the sound low and satisfied. Then, with a simple flick of his fingers, a small stream of water shot toward the cockroach—blasting it out of sight.

You peeked out. “Did you drown it?”

“Something like that.”

“…Good enough.”

Now that the danger was gone, you relaxed—but for some reason, you didn’t pull away.

Dan Heng seemed to notice. “You’re still holding onto me.”

“…Shut up. I’m recovering.”

His chest rumbled with a quiet chuckle.

And that was when you finally realized the horns were gone. His dragon features had completely disappeared.

“…Wait.” You leaned back slightly, inspecting his now normal face. “Did they—disappear because of this?”

“Maybe.”

Something told you… he wouldn’t mind testing it out again.

---

The search for answers had been fruitless.

You had dragged Dan Heng to healers, scholars, and even underground doctors—yet not one of them could determine what that liquid was or why his dragon features kept appearing whenever he was displeased.

And so, when you heard whispers of a secret bidding event known to deal in rare, illicit goods, you knew it was your best shot.

Disguised in ordinary robes and masks, you and Dan Heng snuck into the venue—a dimly lit hall, buzzing with the low murmur of eager bidders. Items were displayed one by one on a grand stage, and men in luxurious garments raised their hands with absurdly high offers.

It was a strange, unsettling place.

And then—

You saw it. On the display, contained within a reinforced glass case, was a small vial. The liquid inside gleamed with an eerily familiar glow.

“That’s it!” you muttered. “That has to be what they injected into you.”

Dan Heng's gaze was locked onto the vial, his jaw tightening. You knew he recognized it too.

The auctioneer’s voice boomed through the hall.

"A special concoction from an unknown source. Its properties? A mystery! But I assure you, its effects are... fascinating. Let’s start the bidding!"

The first bid came instantly.

“300,000 credits!”

Your stomach dropped.

That was way too much.

Dan Heng turned to you, voice low. “How do you want to handle this?”

You already knew the answer.

You weren’t leaving without that vial.

There was no way you could win a bidding war against the wealthy elites here. The price was already skyrocketing, and you didn’t have that kind of money.

You turned to Dan Heng. “We’re stealing it.”

He nodded without hesitation. “I figured.”

The auction continued, the price climbing higher and higher, but you weren’t paying attention anymore. Instead, you were scanning the room, noting the positions of guards, escape routes, and blind spots.

One of you would create a distraction. The other would take the vial.

“Let me handle the distraction” Dan Heng murmured. “I can draw them away without getting caught.”

You weren’t sure about that.

He was strong, yes. But the whole reason you were here was to fix his condition—not make it worse.

“No” you decided. “I’ll do it. You grab the vial.”

Dan Heng’s brows furrowed, but before he could argue, the auctioneer slammed his gavel down.

“Sold for 850,000 credits!”

You inhaled sharply. It was time.

The moment the winner stepped forward to claim the vial, you moved. With a quick motion, you reached into your sleeve and tossed a smoke bomb onto the stage—

People shouted, some scrambling away while others drew their weapons. The guards rushed in, pushing through the panicked crowd

And in the cover of the smoke, Dan Heng struck.

By the time the haze began to clear, he was already at your side, the vial secured in his grip.

“We need to go.” He grabbed your wrist, pulling you toward the nearest exit.

Guards were closing in.

But you weren’t worried.

You had what you came for.

Now, you just had to get out alive.

---

Pain.

That was the first thing you felt when consciousness returned.

Your entire body ached, and every breath felt like it scraped against raw wounds. You groaned, trying to move—

Only to feel a strong grip on your wrist.

Dan Heng was at your bedside, his expression eerily blank. But his eyes—his eyes told another story.

Shock. Relief. Unfiltered rage.

For the first time, you saw green scales creeping across his face. They shimmered under the dim light, spreading like cracks in a fragile mask. His normally sharp features were even sharper, his dragon-like horns fully visible.

“I thought you were dead.”

You blinked, still disoriented. “How long was I out?”

“Five days.”

Something had happened while you were unconscious.

Your surroundings were unfamiliar, but the faint smell of blood and burnt metal lingered in the air. Your wounds were bandaged, but you could tell the medical supplies used were not from a standard clinic.

“…Dan Heng. What did you do?”

He didn’t answer immediately. His fingers tightened around your wrist, as if reassuring himself that you were still there.

“I lost control.”

You knew what that meant.

The people from the auction house—the guards, the bidders—none of them stood a chance.

You had seen glimpses of his power before. But this?

This was different.

You reached up, your fingers grazing the scales on his cheek. He stiffened under your touch, but didn’t pull away.

“…I’m still here” you said softly.

“I thought I lost you. You don’t understand—I would’ve destroyed everything. I would’ve—”

You pressed a hand over his, grounding him.

“You didn’t.”

Dan Heng’s grip loosened slightly. His features, still twisted with emotions, slowly softened.

For a long moment, he simply stared at you. Then, as if needing further confirmation that you were alive, he pulled you into his arms.

He buried his face into the crook of your neck, his body trembling ever so slightly.

“…Don’t scare me like that again.”

“I won’t.”

You shifted slightly in his embrace, trying to adjust to the strange sensation against your skin. His scales pressed against your cheek as he held you even tighter.

"Dan Heng" you muttered, half-jokingly, "your scales are poking me."

To your surprise, he tightened his grip. His arms caged you in, his warm breath fanning against your neck.

“…Then endure it.”

His voice was quiet, almost sulky.

You sighed, but didn't protest. And soon enough—the sensation disappeared.

You pulled back slightly, noticing his features softening. His scales had faded away, his horns receding as if they’d never been there.

You blinked. So it really was connected to his emotions.

Still, you needed answers.

Later that day, you took a small sample of his scales—without him noticing—and sent it to a trusted friend in the field of alchemy and medicine.

The response came quickly: an antidote was possible.

But when you brought it up to Dan Heng—

"I don’t want it."

"You don’t even know what it does."

His gaze was steady. "It doesn’t matter. Everything as it is… is fine."

You felt the weight in his words. He wasn’t just talking about the scales—he was talking about you, about this, about the bond you both shared.

And as if the universe had heard him, the bond reappeared.

A faint glow flickered between you both—unseen by your eyes, but deeply felt.

Dan Heng dragged you into the kitchen, his grip firm yet careful.

“You need a proper meal” he said, his voice carrying no room for argument.

You sighed but let him. Things were tricky now—you couldn't stray too far from each other. If you did, the bond would start pulling you back, an invisible force tethering you together.

---

A group of strangers approached you outside, eyes filled with intentions you didn’t like. Dan Heng acted before you could, sending them flying with a single strike.

And just like that—the bond disappeared again.

You didn’t know what to make of it, but Dan Heng did.

That night, when you were fast asleep, he moved silently.

In his hand was a small vial—one he had secretly extracted from himself. With quiet precision, he used it on you.

Would you become like him? Would you be changed as he was?

He needed to know.

Nothing happened.

At least, not immediately.

Dan Heng watched you carefully the next day, but you looked fine. No horns, no scales, no tail. You were just... you.

Maybe it was different because of his origin. Maybe his bloodline couldn’t fully transfer to you. Or maybe it needed more time.

But one thing did change. You recovered unnaturally fast. The injuries that should’ve taken weeks to heal were already fading. And there was a downside—your temper.

You found yourself easily irritated, snapping at things you wouldn’t normally care about. The effect wore off soon, but Dan Heng took note of it.

Then, you felt it.

The slightest change.

Your ears—it was faint, but they weren’t the same. They twitched, sharper than before, more sensitive to sound.

No horns, no scales, but... you were just like him now.

And, of course—you would never know it was his doing.

Dan Heng watched as you slept, your breathing steady, your body finally adjusting.

It had taken time. More than he expected. The first dose had only changed your ears, but that wasn’t enough.

He needed more.

So he spent weeks—studying, gathering, experimenting.

And finally, he succeeded.

The last vial, carefully prepared, had worked exactly as he intended.

Your body had accepted it. Your features had shifted—not just the ears this time.

Under the moonlight, faint scales shimmered on your skin. Not as prominent as his, but there. A part of you now.

And with that change, the bond solidified.

No longer a fragile link. No longer something that could fade.

It was permanent.

Dan Heng exhaled, letting the weight of it settle in his chest. This was what he wanted. For you to be the same.

For you to never be able to leave.

And when your eyes fluttered open, you felt it too.

The connection. Stronger than ever. Binding you to him in ways you couldn’t yet understand.

Dan Heng offered a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach his sharp, knowing gaze.

“Good morning.” he murmured.

You are his now.