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andhumanslovedstories · 2 days ago

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I am not closely following the election results tonight, but I am occasionally seeing flashes of them out of the corner of my eye. The most obvious sign that things aren’t going well right now is the complete lack of celebrating on my dash. I know what tumblr looks like when it’s happy. Maybe I’ll go to bed tonight and see something different in the morning. I hope to god that is the case. But I’m thinking about the way I’m thinking right now, and I want to get some stuff down before the future kicks in.

In 2016 I was in a period of my life I affectionately refer to as as my fuckup era. I wasn’t even fucking up really. More just chilling out and falling short of the vague expectations I’d had about what I was supposed to be doing after I graduated college. While my friends from college rented apartments in the city and got jobs that didn’t supply you with a uniform shirt, I lived at home and worked as a barista at a fancy movie theater. That’s a real job you can do for almost five years. I didn’t have a clue what the back half of my twenties should look like. The only long term plan I had in my life was moving out west with my best friend, and my plan for finding a job once I was out there was basically to cross my fingers and hope.

Those days weren’t bad on the whole, but it felt like I was not actually living a life so much as I was goofing off in the waiting room. Sometimes that felt embarrassing, sometimes it felt fun, and sometimes it felt like I was completely pointless to the world.

On 2016’s Election Day, I went to bed early. After watching the votes come in, I needed the night to be over. I woke in a world that felt different than it had been the night before—not just in the actuality of who would be president but down to its foundations. I realized for the first time how much hope I’d had in human nature because now I didn’t feel it anymore. It’s almost silly when I think about it—so many horrible things had already happened that year, people had done horrible things as long as there have been people, and I didn’t think I was naive to that—but something clicked into place that morning.

It felt the same way my world had changed a year earlier, in 2015 during my last semester of college. My college victory lap felt like a prolonged downward spiral. Very early in the morning on a Monday, after pulling an all-nighter and overwhelmed by self-loathing that I could not just motivate myself to work on a paper that had been my only thought all weekend, I self-harmed for the first time in a way that was impossible to pretend it was anything else. Earlier that weekend, I’d tried staving off the urges drawing or writing on my arm, something that did (and does) usually work. I’d written this quote in silver sharpie on my forearm: “Good is not a thing you are. It's a thing you do.”

I picked that quote from the Ms. Marvel comics and liked the words so much, I thought that I wouldn’t be willing to purposefully mess it up by hurting myself there. Didn’t work. They just made me feel more ashamed of myself as I did it.

That was the worst I had ever felt. Then, on the Friday of that week, a friend of mine was senselessly, brutally murdered.

It doesn’t feel now like there was ever a time before her death. My memoir class is now where I wrote about her. My favorite professor is now the one who held me as I cried. My final thesis, the culmination of my history degree, never got finished and certainly never got polished. I turned it what I had and got an A minus. Sometimes I think of rereading that paper to see if that’s the grade it actually deserved. We hadn’t been the closest friends, but my name was still on the email admin sent to professors, listing students who might be emotionally affected by this tragic event. Grace’s murder hangs over every memory I have with her and everything she ever touched. It feels like its own type of obliteration to leave her reduced to her death.

Grace wanted to be a lawyer because she believed in justice and also liked arguing. She could be rude when she wasn’t interested in what you were saying. When you caught her attention, you felt like the most fascinating person in the room. She was so proud of being Jewish. I watched her become proud of being gay. She was so universally friendly that it took me a year to realize that she actually liked specifically me. She had a somewhat silly laugh and an astonishingly luminous smile.

I thought less of the world and the people in it because of how she died. Trump’s election in 2016 felt like that.

After he won, I left stasis. From November through December, I thought harder about my future than I ever had before. Who did I want to be? What did I most value? What did I think was worth protecting? What work wouldn’t kill me to do? At one point, in presumably a fit of madness, I thought, “what if I got into politics.” Epiphany eventually hit me. By the time of Trump’s inauguration, I was already enrolled at community college, getting my pre-reqs for nursing school.

Now it’s election night again, eight years later. I live on the west coast with my best friend, in a house that we bought together. I work as a nurse in a hospital in a city where there are homeless encampments off every highway and someone begging for change on every corner. Meanwhile, there’s Palestine. Meanwhile there’s Sudan. Meanwhile refugees drown in the sea and border patrol shoots jugs of water. Even hurricanes have human cruelty now.

I don’t think people are inherently good or the universe inherently kind. But I am very good at tricking myself into thinking it for a little while, and when I do, I can remember the a specific feeling from Friday of my senior year, from that morning in November— how fucking hard the disappointment hit me because I had expected people to be better than this. It makes me want to be better than that.

I believe, and hope that I always will, that we can make a better world. I don’t know what it looks like, but I think I will see it in my lifetime. Those of us who can believe such things owe a bit of that naïveté to the world—not to excuse atrocities or think them impossible but to believe that we can stop them at all. You have to have a couple people sprinkled around who are genuinely shocked when people do bad things. It’s not that the pessimists are wrong, but you need the occasional counterbalance. I want to be a reasonable cynic’s pleasant surprise.

Every shift, I interact with people at their lowest and worst. I see the direct pipeline from pain to anger to violence, and how fragile that pipeline can be. So many situations can be changed by things as small as a warm blanket or a kind word. Violence can be quite easy to avert. Crises can be quite simply to resolve. Even when I know that whatever I do that shift will not change the circumstances of a person’s life, I think that what I do that shift still matters.

I’m lying in bed, writing this post instead of looking at the news. I wonder how tonight will change me. Been thinking about what I’ll do if Trump wins. Been thinking about how whatever I think I need to do under Trump will still need to be done if Harris clutches out a victory. I guess this is a pessimist’s optimism: to a degree the election doesn’t matter. Good is not a thing you are. It is a thing you do. Our better world will always take a lot of work.

But please god please, why can’t it be just a little easier to do it?

#b.#this is about the election and also some past self harm and a murder #nursing tag

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aliyahwritings · 1 day ago

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THE CONTRACTED HEART — Rafe Cameron (06)

MASTERLIST | Basketball Player & Model!Female Reader

Summary: Rafe Cameron, a basketball star, needs a marriage to fix his image, while Model!Reader needs one for citizenship. They may be the perfect solution for each other.

Warnings: smut, descriptions of violence, jealousy, usage of drugs, talks about body image/ed, angst, and lots of bickering. Reader is confident, a people-pleaser, has a traumatic past, and is a sunshine with an attitude. Rafe is a whore, possessive, cocky, and secretive about his past.

Word Count: 5.3k

Aliyah's Notes: after the calamity of ch5 i present u ch6.... enjoy it. or not. AND IM SORRY FOR THE ENDING 🔥😩😅😨

It's been days. Or weeks? You didn’t even know anymore. The calendar on my phone kept reminding me, but you stopped counting. Maybe if you ignored the world long enough, it’ll forget you existed. Maybe if you stayed in this apartment, you could disappear into these four walls like you were never here in the first place.

Numbers. You used to count them, obsess over them, keep track of every passing hour. But now, time feels... irrelevant. What’s the point of knowing how long you’ve been sinking when no one’s coming to pull you out?

The silence feels... safe. No one to judge you. No one to see the mess you’ve become. It’s funny, though—people always see what they want to see. The headlines called you a goddess, an untouchable force of beauty and success. But what would they say if they knew the truth? That the girl in their glossy magazines could barely stand to look at herself anymore.

You hated this. The lying, the pretending. Nina thought you were just going through a rough patch, but she didn’t know how deep the cracks went. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You weren’t supposed to be this anymore—broken, fragile, teetering on the edge again. You swore you’d never come back to this place. But it’s funny how easy it is to fall back into old habits, how fast the darkness creeps in when no one’s watching.

No one’s watching.

Maybe that’s for the best. Let them keep seeing the version of you they wanted to see—the confident supermodel, the girl who had it all. Let them believe the lie, because the truth? The truth was ugly. The truth was you’ve been staring at your phone for days, hoping—no, needing—for a message, for something from him.

But nothing.

He was in Missouri. Working, you guessed. You didn’t even know when he was coming back. He didn’t say.

You hated him for that. But you hated yourself more for caring. For letting him in, even when you knew better. For thinking, for just one second, that maybe—just maybe—there was something real between you, beneath all the lies you told the world.

But none of it was real. Not the dating, not the smiles, not the person they thought you were. You were a fraud. A perfect, golden fraud wrapped up in designer clothes and empty promises. And the worst part was, you were too tired to fight it anymore. Maybe this was who you were now. A girl who hid in her apartment, waiting for the world to forget she existed.

Or maybe it already happened.

The sound of the door creaking open started you, pulling you out of the spiral you’ve been sinking into. You didn’t even need to look up to know who it was. No one else had the key to your apartment beside her.

“Are you kidding me, Y/N?” Nina’s voice cut through the heavy silence like a knife. “This is the third time this week. How long do you think you can keep doing this?”

You didn’t respond.

Nina stromed in, slamming the door behind her, and you heard her heels clacking on the floor as she made her way to the living room. “You’re not answering your phone. You’re not responding to emails. You missed three shoots! People are asking questions, Y/N. What do you think I’m supposed to tell them?”

You stayed silent, curling deeper into the couch. Maybe if you didn’t look at her, she’ll go away. Maybe she’ll finally get the hint that you didn’t want to be saved.

But Nina wasn’t the type to back off. “No,” she snapped. “You don’t get to ignore me, not today. You need to get up. You need to fix this, Y/N. You think you can just hide away forever? Is that the plan? Because let me tell you, honey, the world won’t wait for you to get your shit together.”

She stood in front of you now, hands on her hips, glaring down at you like a disappointed mother. Her usually immaculate hair was slightly disheveled, and you could tell by the tension in her jaw that she’s been worrying.

“Talk to me, honey,” she said, her voice lower now. “This isn’t you. You don’t just disappear like this. What happened? Is it Rafe? Is it work? Are you back to…” her voice trailed off, but the question hanged in the air, heavy and unspoken.

You couldn’t look at her. The shame curled in your chest, making in hard to breathe. She didn’t know. She didn’t know how badly you’ve relapsed, how badly everything felt like it was slipping out of control again. And you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. Not to her. Not to anyone.

“When’s the last time you even showered? Eaten something decent? Your career’s on the line. Everything we’ve worked for is on the line. You can’t just… give up like this.”

Her words hit like slaps, each one stinging, but you still didn’t move. You couldn’t.

Nina huffed, pacing now, her frustration spilling over. “I don’t know what happened between you and Rafe, and honestly, I don’t care. But whatever it is, you don’t get to throw your life away because of it. You’re stronger than this, Y/N. I know you are. So why the hell are you letting this break you?”

You flinched at the word “break.” Because that’s what it feels like. Like you’re already broken, shattered into a million pieces, and you didn’t even know how to start putting yourself back together.

Nina crouched down in front of you, her voice softening, her eyes searching yours. “Talk to me, honey. Please. Tell me what’s going on. I can’t help you if you don’t let me in.”

For a moment, you almost did. You almost told her everything—the text, the relapse, the endless void you’ve been sinking into. But the words caught in your throat, choking you. What’s the point in talking when nothing will change?

You shook your head, your voice barely a whisper. “I’m fine.”

Nina’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t give me that bullshit. You’re not fine. You’re far from it. You think I haven’t seen you like this before? You’re not fooling anyone, Y/N.”

She stood, her frustration bubbling back to the surface. “You need to snap out of it. Because in five days, you’re getting engaged to Rafe Cameron, whether you like it or not. And a week after that, you’re walking down the aisle. You can’t afford to fall apart now.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of her words pressing down on you like a lead blanket. The engagement. The wedding. The lies. It all felt so suffocating, so inevitable.

Nina crossed her arms, her voice firm. “So here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to get up, you’re going to shower, and you’re going to pull yourself together. Because tomorrow, you’ve got a charity event with Rafe, and you’re going to smile for the cameras and make everyone believe that you’re still that perfect, golden girl they love.”

You wanted to scream at her, tell her you couldn't do it, that you didn't even know how to pretend anymore. But instead, you nodded numbly, sinking deeper into the fog that had settled over your mind.

Nina sighed, her voice softening again as she headed toward the door. "I'll be back tomorrow morning. And I swear, Y/N, if you're still in this state when I get here, I will personally drag you to that charity event."

The door closed behind her with a soft click, leaving you alone with the weight of everything she'd just said.

You hadn’t slept. Not really. Just laid there, staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out how you were supposed to pretend like everything was fine when every part of you was falling apart. You could still hear Nina’s voice in your head, telling you to pull yourself together, to be the golden girl everyone expected you to be.

You dragged yourself out of bed, your body heavy. Your legs felt weak, and your mind feltl worse. Everything was numb, but somehow you still felt the pain. You stumbled into the bathroom, turning the water on without thinking. The cold spray hit your skin like tiny needes, and you stood there for a while, trying to let the string wake you up. But it didn’t work—you were still in that fog.

When you finally stepped out of the shower, you didn’t even bother looking in the mirror. It didn’t matter. You grabbed the first thing you saw—a plain black sweater, loose and oversized, and a pair of jeans that didn’t quite fit right anymore. You didn’t even try with your hair, just pulled it back into a bun. No makeup. What was the point? It wasn’t like anyone cared what you looked like today.

When you got to the office, the tension hit you the moment you walked through the door. Your stomach twisted as you made your way down the hallway, each step heavier than the last. You could feel your pulse in your throat, your chest tightening with every breath. You shouldn’t have cared. You shouldn’t. But as you pushed open the door to the conference room and saw him sitting there—Rafe, looking like he hadn’t been bothered by a single thing—you felt the anger bubbling up, hot and sharp.

It started as a familiar ache that had been building ever since the night he walked out of your apartment without a word. Two weeks. Fourteen days of silence. Fourteen nights spent waiting for a text that never came, hoping for even the smallest explanation, something to make sense of the hollow space he’d left behind.

Day 1. Monday, 2:42 AM

You: “Hey. Are you home? LMK, just to be safe.”

Day 2. Tuesday, 8:18 AM

You: “I’m still so confused about what happened last night, but let’s talk when you have a minute.”

Day 3. Wednesday, 5.32 PM

You: “Look, if you’re mad at me, just say it! I thought we were good, what the hell?”

Day 4. Friday, 11:04 PM

You: “It’s been days and I still don’t understand why you left like this.”

Day 5. Sunday, 3:27 PM

You: “Fuck you. I don't know why I keep texting. I know you’re seeing my texts, even though I’m on delivered. Just tell me if you’re done with this.”

Day 5. Sunday, 10:41 PM

You: “Why am I acting like I’m the one who fucked up? I didn’t do anything wrong. You left me like I was nothing, and your only explanation was a shitty rom-com excuse. I thought we were friends, Rafe.”

Day 5: Sunday, 11:36 PM

You: “I hope you rot in your shit ass apartment, but trust that I will show up to one of your stupid games with a sign that says “Small Dick Ghoster” in big, glittery letters. And I hope Chiara will hug you so hard that she’ll end up strangling you to death. Fuck you, again!”

And there he was, sitting there like none of it had happened, like you were still just strangers playing a game. His posture relaxed, that effortless confidence radiating from him, his gaze fixed on the papers in front of him, completely indifferent.

It infuriated you—the ease with which he moved on, the way he could look so composed, so completely unbothered, as if he hadn’t abandoned you in that moment when you were raw and vulnerable. Like it meant nothing. Like you meant nothing.

Every part of you screamed to confront him, to demand an explanation for the silence, the absence, the complete disregard. You could feel the hurt clawing up from your chest, tangling with the anger that burned hotter with each passing second. He was so close, but somehow, he felt miles away.

So instead, you steeled yourself, locking down the hurt, burying it beneath the anger that simmered just beneath the surface. You wouldn’t let him see the effect he had on you, wouldn’t give him the power to know just how much his absence had shattered you. No—he would get nothing from you. Not a word, not a glance, not a single sign of the turmoil raging inside you.

You walked past him without a word, each step heavy with the weight of the anger you swallowed down. Let him sit there, pretending like nothing was wrong. Let him think he could ignore you, dismiss you, erase you from his life without consequence. Because you would make sure he felt every bit of the coldness he had left you with, every ounce of the hurt he’d carved into you.

Ignoring him was the only power you had left, the only way to keep the anger from spilling over, from breaking you down entirely. And if he thought he could continue on as if the past two weeks hadn’t happened, then he was going to learn just how wrong he was.

Nicolas cleared his throat, breaking the silence that had settled over the room. “Hi, you two—we’ve got a lot to go over, and the timeline is tight. The engagement is in five days, and the wedding is scheduled for a week after that. So we need to finalize the details today—food, decorations, dresses, the guest list…”

You couldn’t focus. The words blurred together a dull hum in the background as you stared down at the table. Rafe said something, his voice casual, but you tuned it out. You didn’t want to hear him.

Sabrina spoke next, her tone brighter, more enthusiastic. “The audience is really enjoying you together, by the way. Ever since your date, and especially after the pictures from Kelce’s party where you two were cuddled up? People are in love with the idea of you and Rafe together. So, good job, guys.”

Your stomach churned at her words. Cuddled up. Like you were some happy couple.

“And tomorrow,” she continued. “You’ll need to make another public appearance together. It’s a charity event for cancer awareness. A perfect opportunity for more good press. The public is expecting you two to show up as the perfect couple—affectionate, in love, all of that.”

In love.

You bit down on the inside of your cheek so hard you tasted blood. This was the part where you were supposed to smile and nod, agree to hold his hand and play the role of the devoted future fiancée. But all you felt was the tension building, the weight of the lie pressing down on you until it was suffocating.

Rafe shifted in his seat, and you could feel his eyes on you, but you still didn’t look at him. Rafe felt an uneasy twist in his stomach. You looked… different. Disheveled, almost. Your sweater hung losely over your shoulders, practically swallowing your frame, and he could see dark shadows under your eyes that hadn’t been there before. You seemed smaller somehow, your usual energy muted, replaced by something tense and fragile.

Rafe’s gaze dropped to your hands, noticing how your fingers fidgeted restlessly, twisting and tugging at your sleeves. Your leg was bouncing under the table, tapping out an anxious rhythm that only he seemed to notice. Every small movement, every nervous habit—you looked like you were holding yourself back, like there was something simmering beneath the surface, ready to break free.

You still hadn’t looked at him, hadn’t given him a single glance, and that bothered him more than he wanted to admit. You’d been messaging him, and he’d been… well, avoiding it, convincing himself it was for the best. But seeing you now, seeing the wear and tear he’d left behind, he couldn’t shake the guilt.

Rafe’s chest tightened. He’d expected you to be angry, maybe annoyed. But this? You looked worn down, frayed at the edges, like you've been carrying a weight no one else could see.

You didn’t remember most of the details they were talking about. Your mind drifted in and out of focus as they went on about the guest list, the food, the decorations. All you heard were words—dresses, flowers, venues. None of it felt real. It was as if you were watching someone else’s life unfold in front of you, just sitting there, an outsider in your own story.

“The wedding will be televised, of course,” Sabrina says, flipping through her notes, her eyes gleaming with the excitement of it all. “And with a full press presence. We want every detail to reflect both of your public personas. Elegant, grand, but also with an intimate, personal feel—something that tells a story about who you both are.”

Who we were. I almost laughed at the irony. I didn't even know who I was right now, much less who we were.

“We were thinking of something grand but elegant. A modern luxury wedding. White roses, lots of gold accents. Maybe something at the estate in the Hamptons?”

You glanced at the board, at all the glossy, pristine images of weddings that could belong to anyone. None of them felt like you.

“Do you have any preferences?” Sabrina asked, smiling like this is the most exciting conversation in the world. “Colors, themes, anything that’s important to you?”

"Actually," you finally broke your silence, your voice coming out quietly, but the words landing heavily in the room. "I’d like the ceremony to reflect... my background." You could feel Rafe's eyes on you again, but for once, you didn’t care. This wasn’t about him.

Sabrina blinked, taken aback, but she quickly nodded, jotting down notes as if she were open to whatever you had in mind. "Of course, that could be beautiful. Were you thinking about specific details?"

You hesitated for a moment, uncertain if they’d take you seriously, but you pressed on. "Yes. The colors… the decorations. I want there to be vibrant colors—not just whites and pastels, but deep greens, maroons, and gold. The way we’d have them back home. And for the flowers… jasmine and roses. That’s what we use for weddings where I’m from. I want it to feel like... like part of my heritage."

Nicolas raised an eyebrow, as if he hadn’t expected you to care about any of this. But he just nodded, his pen moving across his notepad. "We can definitely arrange that. A traditional, multicultural theme would add a unique touch to the event, I think. It’ll definitely resonate with the press and the viewers."

You didn’t care if it resonated. It wasn’t for them—it was for you, a sliver of authenticity in this whole farce.

Then Sabrina’s voice broke into your thoughts. "And of course, the dress. Have you given any thought to what you want? Or would you like us to arrange for a stylist to go over options with you?"

Your heart twisted at the mention of the dress. The one thing you’d always imagined as a girl—the dress you’d wear at your own wedding. Only, you’d never thought it would be for this.

"I’d like to include some of my culture there too," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe... a fusion. Something elegant and modern but with hints of traditional South Asian bridal elements. Like embroidery or... beadwork. Maybe even henna if it wouldn’t look out of place."

Sabrina seemed to light up at the idea. "That would be stunning. We can definitely work with that! I know several designers who specialize in fusing traditional and contemporary styles."

She was still talking, but the air around you felt thicker, as though the room was closing in. You could sense Rafe’s gaze without even looking at him, the weight of his silence pressing into you.

You zoned out again, your mind wandering back to the last wedding you attended. The colors, the music, the way the bride’s lehenga shimmered under the sun as she walked down the aisle. You’d always thought your wedding would be like that—full of life and celebration, surrounded by people who loved you.

Instead, you were planning a wedding for the cameras, for people who didn’t know you.

The sudden, sharp knock on the door cut through the stillness like a jolt of cold water. Your head shot up from the pillow, heart hammering in your chest. For a moment, the world felt like it was still. The quiet of your apartment, the thick fog still clouding your thoughts. You didn’t want to get up. You didn’t want to face the world outside of this bed, this cocoon of emptiness you’d wrapped yourself in for days.

Another knock, this one louder, more demanding.

“Y/N!” Nina’s voice came through the door, sharp and impatient. “You better not still be in bed, because I swear—”

The door swung open before you could even make a sound, Nina storming in, wearing the same determined, unbothered expression she always had when she was on a mission. You tried to bury your face back into the pillow, but she wasn’t having it. Her hand reached down, grabbing the covers and yanking them off with force. You shivered as the cold air hit your skin, the warmth of the blankets yanked away along with any shred of comfort you’d been clinging to.

“Get up.” Nina wasn’t asking. She was commanding. “You’ve got a charity event today, and Rafe is already at the venue. We don’t have time for your pity party.”

You squinted at her, still half-wrapped in your sheets like a burrito, and mumbled from underneath the pillow, “Can’t you just… I don’t know… handle it for me? Go in my place. You’d look great in a gown.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, I’d look amazing, but you and I both know I don’t have that kind of charisma.”

“True,” you admitted, peeking out from under the pillow.

Nina raised her hands in mock surrender. “Exactly. Now, up. I’m not playing with you today.”

Before you could even protest, she yanked the covers off you with a dramatic flourish, leaving you to shiver in nothing but your oversized T-shirt. It was a miracle you didn’t roll off the bed in the process.

“Come on, Y/N. Let’s go.” Nina didn’t wait for you to even get a grip on reality before heading straight for your closet, rummaging through your clothes like she was on a mission. “You’re going to look so good today that Rafe might just start thinking you actually like him.”

You shot her a glare that could’ve frozen water, but she just smirked, tossing a black dress onto the bed like she was some fashion fairy sent to save you from yourself.

“I’m not going,” you said flatly.

“Oh, yes, you are.” Nina threw a matching pair of heels onto the bed with the same casual flick of the wrist she used to dismiss your protests. “Because you will look stunning, and you will show up.”

You sat up slowly, rubbing your face. “What is it with you people? Why does everyone keep trying to drag me out of bed? It’s like I’m the world’s most reluctant celebrity.”

“Because you are.” Nina grinned, holding up your dress like she was presenting the Holy Grail. “But, hey, guess what? You’re really good at it. So stop sulking and get your glam on. You’re the star of the show today.”

You let out a theatrical sigh. “Oh, joy.”

Nina didn’t even flinch. “I’m not asking for a performance. Just put on the damn dress and show up. You can pretend to be miserable, and I’ll pretend I’m not a miracle worker for getting you out of here.”

You hesitated for just a moment, then dragged yourself out of bed with a grunt. “Fine.”

“Oh, by the way, Aisha’s going to be there. She practically begged me to make sure you show.”

Your eyes snapped open. Aisha Patel. Your best friend and, quite honestly, the only person in your life who could drag you out of bed with a single text. She’s been your best friend since you’d arrived in the States. She’d been away for five months—longer than ever before—working on some high-profile project in Switzerland. You hadn’t seen her in ages.

“You’re kidding,” you mumbled, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. “Aisha’s coming?”

Nina smiled smugly. “Yep. She’s flown back for the event. Can you imagine the drama if you don’t show up? She’ll never let you live it down.”

You sighed, a smile tugging at your lips. “God, I missed her.”

“Me too,” Nina said, her voice softening for just a second. “But you still have to get up. Like now.”

You looked at the dress Nina had already picked out, a sleek white gown that somehow made you feel both glamorous and like you were about to attend a royal gala. “Fine. I’m up. I’m dressed.”

Nina, who was already rummaging through your closet like a pro, grinned. “You look absolutely beautiful, honey,” she noticed your weight loss but decided to not speak on it, in fear it’ll make you relapse… if only she knew. “Chiara’s also going to be there...”

You froze, the mention of Chiara Romano sending a cold shiver down your spine. You’d told Nina everything about the Chiara encounter—her subtle digs, the way she made you feel like you were just another passing phase in Rafe’s life. She’d made things uncomfortable enough at Kelce’s party, and now you had to face her again?

“What? Fucking why?”

“Her father’s the one running the whole damn event,” she explained. “I’m surprised you haven’t heard of her or her family because they’re pretty famous, especially in the entertainment and events world. So, get ready for a day full of small talk, fake smiles, and people who will pry into your private life.”

You sighed. “How perfect is that?”

You stood in front of the mirror, trying to shake off the heavy weight of everything swirling in your head. You glanced at the clock. You were running out of time.

You reached for your hair tie, pulling it through your tangled locks. Your hair had grown longer than you remembered, and you decided to tie it up in a messy, yet elegant bun—one that would allow a few soft, curly strands to escape and frame your face. It was casual but chic—classic you. You let a few strands fall loosely, giving the bun a less formal, more effortless vibe. After a moment of satisfaction, you moved on to the makeup.

A soft, dewy glow covered your skin, nothing too dramatic. You didn’t want to feel caked in layers today, just enough to enhance your features. You applied a touch of blush to your cheeks, just a hint, to keep the look fresh. A thin line of mascara lengthened your lashes, and your signature lip combo was the finishing touch. Simple. Comfortable.

As you turned to check yourself one last time, you heard Nina's voice from the other room.

“Y/N! We need to go now. Rafe's texting me and he’s getting antsy. He’s apparently already at the event!”

You sighed, feeling the familiar rush of anxiety settle into your stomach. The mirror reflected a version of you that was ready for the world, but the world, especially tonight, wasn’t ready for this version of you. But as the pressure of the event built up, you couldn’t deny the uncertainty gnawing at you.

When you made your way into the living room, Nina was pacing, her phone glued to her ear. She shot you a quick, approving glance. “Looking good. Let’s go.”

As you grabbed your clutch, ready to face whatever tonight had in store, the doorbell rang. Your heart skipped a beat. Was it Aisha? Maybe she’d arrived early, wanting to meet up before the event?

But when you opened the door, your breath caught.

Standing in the doorway wasn’t Aisha.

It was Rafe.

He was in a suit—sharp, looking like he belonged in a magazine ad for high-end fashion—but his eyes, dark and intense, held something more than just a desire to impress. He had the look of a man who knew he had messed up.

His words hit you before you could even process them. “You look stunning. I wanted to make sure you’re okay... before all this.” The sincerity in his voice made your heart thump a little faster, and you hated yourself for it.

The words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you just stood there, blinking at him. You hadn’t expected him to show up—especially not with that kind of intensity in his eyes.

You exhaled slowly, your arms instinctively crossing over your chest, your posture defensive. The audacity of this guy.

“Really?” You scoffed, trying to mask the vulnerability creeping up your spine with sharp sarcasm. “Now you care?”

Rafe seemed to falter at that, but he quickly recovered, taking a small step closer, but not enough to make you feel cornered. “I’ve always cared, Y/N. You know that.” His voice was quieter this time, and the sincerity in his eyes almost made your resolve crack.

“Do I?” you shot back, stepping out of the doorway and giving him a once-over, your gaze icy. “Because you sure had a funny way of showing it.”

Rafe winced, a flash of guilt flickering in his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair, his jaw tight. “I messed up, okay? I should’ve reached out. I didn’t know what to say, but I should’ve just... shown up.”

You rolled your eyes, the anger simmering beneath your skin rising again. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, not from the sight of him, but from the frustration that had been building over the past two weeks. “You didn’t know what to say? You think showing up fixes two weeks of silence? Just like that?”

He took a step forward, his face tightening, as though he was bracing himself for a confrontation. "I wasn’t sure what to do," he said, his voice lowering. "I thought... maybe you needed space. I thought if I gave you time, it would be better." He ran a hand through his hair, frustration clear in his expression. “I was trying to do the right thing.”

You stared at him for a long moment, the audacity of his words settling like a lump in your throat. “Space?” you asked, your voice low, incredulous. “You thought ghosting me for two weeks would give me space?”

Rafe’s face twisted in guilt, but it didn’t matter. You weren’t going to let him off the hook.

“Did you at least see my texts?” you demanded, anger rising in your throat.

"Y/N, you’re needed at the car right now!" Nina called, stopping Rafe in his tracks of answering. Before you could walk away, Rafe reached out, his hand closing around your wrist, pulling you back gently.

"Wait," he murmured, his thumb brushing your skin.

You stared up at Rafe, your breath caught in your throat, uncertainty swirling in your chest. The air between you two felt charged, a thousand unspoken questions hanging in the balance. Your pulse was racing, but before you could voice any of them, Nina practically shoved you both into the elevator. Her hand pressed the button for the ground floor as she threw your heels at you, the sharp click of the stilettos punctuating the tension.

You caught them on instinct. The elevator descended, and your mind was still spiraling, trying to piece together what the hell was happening. What the fuck—this distance between you and Rafe?

But just as the elevator doors opened, the sound of a familiar car door slamming outside caught your attention. A quiet thud, followed by the sound of heels clicking against pavement. Your instincts were on alert, an uneasy feeling crawling under your skin.

And when you turned to look, you saw someone stepping out of the car.

Someone who shouldn’t be here.

“I was wondering when we’d get the chance to catch up.”

chapter seven

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whatifitis · 2 days ago

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♡ In Between - FC 43 ♡

Summary: You and Franco has a nice night in, when you start to think about your guys relationship and wonder if it's time you tell him that you really like him.

WC: 2320

CW: overuse of song references, nothing really, it's quite fluffy, maybe some negative thoughts the reader has about themselves?

It’s a Saturday night, one of the least chaotic ones now that your best friend is a driver in F1. Franco was called up to fill Logan's seat for the rest of the season which is beyond exciting and you couldn’t be more proud. The only downside is that his schedule is so much more packed now that he’s getting acknowledgement from so many teams and people. All this new media coverage feels so insane. And something that doesn’t help is the fact that you’ve slowly been falling for Franco.

The two of you have been friends for a while. But in recent months, you’ve started to see him in a different light. You’re sure it’s just a crush but it’s been well over 2 months that you’ve felt this way. Some say that crushes only last about 2 months, once you’re past that mark, you’re actually in love with the person. You hoped this crush would go away, afraid to ruin what you have with Franco. Your relationship with him is the best that’s ever happened to you. You never want to lose him. But alas, the crush did not go away. So now you’re here.

It’s a bit late into the evening now. Franco asked you out for lunch earlier and now the two of you are lying on his bed, watching American Pie. The two of you were lying on the bed, side by side. Franco was lying with his back against the bed's headboard while you lied next to him on your side. The safest place you’ve ever known, next to him.

The two of you were halfway through the movie when he asked you a question that you didn’t quite catch the first time, so you angle your head up to look at him. As soon as you locked eyes with him, Franco couldn’t help but laugh. When you moved your head to look at him, your glasses had skewed on your face.

His laugh always was so contagious, it always got you laughing too. When you two had calmed your laughing fits, Franco took his hand and adjusted your glasses into the right position, before leaning forward and gently kissing your forehead.

“You’re beautiful… and funny… And smart. Like nothing I’ve ever seen.” You turned to bury your face in your hands, trying to hide your blushing face. You love it when he talks, not just about you. About anything really, he’s your favorite yapper and you wish you could listen to him all day. Your favorite sound ever.

“Hey, let me see that beautiful face again.” Franco says, grabbing your hand and moving it from your face. “Hi” he says when he can see you again. “Hi” you reply, smiling so hard. It was so hard to believe this was real, your guy's friendship. It was the type of relationship you’d always dreamed of, that sort of naive and innocent relationship that was filled with laughter and joy and… love? Was it too soon to use that word? Maybe considering you were just friends… Just. Friends.

“So,” Franco started, pulling you out of your thoughts, “What’s the dream?” “The dream?” you look at him, confusion written all over your face. “Yeah, the dream. Your dream. What you’re working towards.”

You laid there for a beat, thinking about it. What was your dream? All this time, you’ve just been focusing on surviving, not so much on the living.

“Um, I’m not sure. I’ve never really thought about it. I guess I want to finish my masters degree in uni. Then after that, just… live, I guess.” you look up at him with a smile. “That’s it? You don’t have any other goals or anything?” - his eyebrows furrow, showing you a confused expression. You shake your head no. “You’re kidding.” - Franco snorts in disbelief. “Well, what are yours? Your plans, goals.” You ask as you sit up against the headboard of the bed. “Em, well, I guess F1 was always a big goal, and now I have it.” he sits there for a second, thinking, twisting his lips as he does, “I’ve also always wanted to have a nice house for my family.” “What does this house look like?” you ask. He takes a moment to think, trying to come up with an honest answer for you. “I never really thought about that to be honest. I just want something nice with enough space for my family. I think a pool in the back would be nice. A big backyard so we could have barbecues as well.”

You’re smiling at him, admiring the person in front of you. You could find the whole meaning of life in those eyes. You’re glad he gets you, and your dark sense of humor. And when you let him in on all your bad decisions, he made them feel less terrible the second that he’d listen.

Don’t stop talking to me. Maybe stay here forever, with me.

“I think that sounds lovely.” you say. “Thank you.” he replies, blushing at your words, “What about your house? Your dream house. Surely you have a dream house.”

You sit up straight, so ready to answer this question. You won’t lie when you say you’ve always wanted to be asked about this. “I do. Um, well it would have a green kitchen. I saw a picture of one online a while ago and just became obsessed with the idea. And the bathrooms would be pink and red, I just think that would look sick. Oh! I also really want a blue hallway.” Franco gives you a confused look, “A blue hallway? For what?” “There’s this band that I love and in one of their music videos, the band painted a wall in the house blue.” “Ah. Which song is the one for the blue wall?” “It’s called True Blue. It’s a song about the person you love and who loves you. This person knows you so well, maybe even more than you know yourself.” “Interesting” he nods his head as he mentally writes down the name of that song so he can listen to it later. He turns his body more towards you, asking “Do you have a true blue?” “I think I’m slowly discovering mine” - you confess. “What about you? Got a true blue yourself?” He looks at you before looking down at his hands and failing to suppress a smile. “Yeah, I do.” “Well, go on. Tell me about them.” you insist. “She’s really cool.”

She? Was he talking to someone else? No, don’t be like that. Maybe it’s just a friend or something? Right?

“She is also really smart.”, he continues, “She loves reading and not only listening to music but also creating it.” Is he talking about me? I do that. “And she’s really good at that. She’s also the hardest working person I know. Like I mean she’s really smart, like Einstein smart.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at this. He’s definitely exaggerating but you have to admit, you’re pretty fucking smart.

“Oh, is she now? She must be one hell of a catch” “Oh trust me. She is and I’m very lucky to have her. She’s also the most beautiful person I’ve ever known. Not just on the outside, that’s an added bonus. But she’s just incredible. And she laughs at all my jokes. And when I save the dirty ones for her, her nose crinkles. It’s really cute actually. Her voice as well, oh my god. The best sound ever. Like when there’s something she’s really interested in or really passionate about, she could talk for hours. That’s one of my favorite things about her. That and her laugh, I wish I could bottle up the sound of her laugh and keep it with me, so I can listen to it whenever I want. Don’t even get me started on how she is with my family. They all get along so amazingly, it’s so much greater than anything I could ever imagine. I think one of the selling points was my family loving her as much as I do. This girl also will drop everything for those she loves. It doesn’t matter if she has work or school or anything, she will drop it just to make sure you’re okay. And she will beat anyone’s ass if they hurt you. I think I’m falling for her. I don’t wanna look at anything else now that I’ve seen her. Now it’s like there’s daylight. Whenever I’m with her, everything feels okay.” “Wow.” is all you can say in this moment. Was he really talking about you? Or are you wishfully thinking he is? “Yeah”, he blushes, “wow”

You take a moment to take all that information in. Maybe he wasn’t talking about you. You clearly see how amazing he is, other people are able to as well. Your mood kind of dampens from these thoughts. You really thought you two could be something. You guess you made it all up in your head, it’s just all one sided.

“What’s wrong?” Franco asks. “Hm? What?” you respond, startled from the sudden break of silence. “What’s wrong? You kind of spaced out.” “Oh, nothing. Was just thinking.” “About?” he responds, sitting up from the bed to lean a bit closer to you. “It’s really nothing. Let’s keep watching the movie” you try to smile and lighten the mood again.

You move to raise the volume on the tv, but you feel Franco’s hand wrap around your wrist lightly. You turn back to look at Franco. He looks confused, and a bit scared?

“Wait, I need to talk to you.”

Oh shit

You return to your spot on the bed, not fully relaxing as his last sentence is kind of terrifying. “Yeah, of course. What’s up?” “I need to tell you something… about that girl.” “Oh”

Damn, alright. Keep bragging about how it’s not me, I guess.

“Well, I know she often thinks negatively about herself. Like she doesn’t deserve that type of stuff. Like love and happiness. She also has a hard time believing that people really do care about her. But I do, I love and care about her so much. And I know she’s afraid of letting people in, and she’s let me in a bit, but I want more with her.”

Ok, fuck me then. Wow, leave it to Franco to absolutely break my heart, unknowingly.

“So, what did you need from me?” “You dumb ass, it’s you! You’re the girl. You’re my true blue.” he lightly laughs.

What.

“What.” you stare at him blankly.

What the fuck? Is he for real right now? How though?

“I like you. I want more with you! You’re my true blue! I want you for worse or for better. I would wait for ever and ever.” - his tone is quiet as he confesses his feelings for you. You sit there silent for a moment before catching something. “Bitch, did you just quote Taylor Swift?!”

He looked to the side for a minute, as if he was thinking or trying to remember something while he pursed his lips. “Yeah?” he laughs, “I know you like her a lot so I listened to her a lot to try and learn some of her songs. They’re pretty good”

I’m going down without a fight, I don’t know how he does this. He makes me really nervous. What is he doing to me now?

“You listened to her… just for me?” you ask, still hesitant on whether he’s being serious or just messing with you. Cause you’re still falling for him and you can’t stop. This might be the thing that breaks you if it doesn’t end well.

“Yes. Staying up with you, despite the space between us. I’ve never felt so close to someone. You came out of the blue like a shooting star. You wait and wait for it to appear, and when it does, it illuminates its surroundings, just for a second. And that is the feeling that I want to feel forever. Everytime I get to see you, it’s like you illuminate every space you walk into.”

What if he’s my weakness?

“I- I don’t know what to say. All this time, I’ve been keeping on my mind on the running away. And for the first time, I’d consider to stay. I know I make the same mistakes a lot and I never learn. But I think I did one thing right.” you say, smiling as his starry eyes spark up this dark night.

He’s looking at you with so much admiration in his eyes.

“I got so damn close to packing it up, then you happened. I’ll never leave out the back door and I don’t plan on running away from the good things anymore.” - you continue.

The two of you just sat there in silence, staring at each other with smiles plastered on your faces. Franco is the first to break, moving closer to you, leaning close to grab the side of your face.

Breathe in, breathe through, breathe deep, breathe out

You’re close enough to feel each other breathe. Just one inch closer and… His lips are on yours, connecting gently. They’re warm and soft. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling your bodies closer together. At the same time, Franco brings his other arm to wrap around your torso, grabbing the side of your waist so you don’t slip away. It’s like taking your first breath of air in years. You feel his lips on yours as butterflies erupt in your stomach.

After a few moments, you break the kiss, needing to actually take in some air. Franco’s hand is still on the side of your face, slowly he slides it down to connect your fingers with his.

“Can I be yours?” he asks, “Your forever true blue?” he asks. “Forever and always”

#f1 fanfiction #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fic #formula 1 fanfic #franco colapinto x reader #franco colapinto x you #franco colapinto imagine #franco colapinto fanfic #franco colapinto fluff

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mechaknight-98 · 1 day ago

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Double D Dungeon Crawl (NSFW) FT Eunbi, Sejeong, Mina Kang, Somi

Operator’s Notes: I had a lot of ground to cover and tried to do capatilize as much as possible.

Disclaimer: I know none of these girls have double Ds

"Awe fuck Somi your tits are spectacular as always," Ivan says as his girlfriend casually strokes his cock with her tits.

"Are you close?" Somi asks with bright eyes hoping to get him to explode more than ever. However, their little tryst was interrupted when Ivan's alarm went off for DND.

“Oh shit, Somi, stop. I need to focus,” Ivan said, laughing as he lightly pushed her off, trying to keep his composure.

Somi pouted dramatically. “Focus? On what? Am I not enough of a distraction for you?” As she spoke she seductively juggled her tits hoping to entice Ivan to stay.

Ivan grinned, eyes still on his girlfriend. “Babe, it's Dungeons and Dragons night. Do you want to come? You’ll round out the party.”

Somi crossed her arms, tilting her head with mock suspicion. “Wait, who’s going?”

Ivan blinked, recollecting. “Uh… it’s Orion, Flint, Mina, Eunbi, and me.”

“Eunbi? Who’s that?” Somi asked, her curiosity piqued.

“Oh, that’s Orion’s girlfriend,” Ivan said casually. “She’s… interesting.”

“Interesting how?” Somi leaned closer, eyes narrowing playfully.

Ivan chuckled. “Well, Orion met her at this screening for the new season of Ultraman, right? They stayed up ‘til like 4 a.m. talking about all things tokusatsu—like the whole deep dive into its impact on anime and… their lives.”

Somi raised an eyebrow, picturing a total nerd duo. “Oh, so she’s a nerd too, huh? She’s probably super frumpy and wears those huge anime shirts.”

“Actually, no,” Ivan said, shaking his head, a smirk playing on his lips. “She’s kinda… hot.”

Somi’s eyebrows shot up, not believing him for a second. “Hot? Really? Prove it.”

Ivan shrugged, pulling out his phone and scrolling for a photo. He handed it to her, and she blinked at the image of Orion standing with a curvy, stylish woman.

“Oh shit, good for him!” Somi said, genuinely impressed. “I was expecting glasses and an Evangelion hoodie, but damn.”

Ivan laughed. “Yeah, right? Orion kinda hit the jackpot.”

Somi handed his phone back with a smirk. “So what you’re telling me is, nerds are pulling hot people now. Is that your subtle way of telling me I’m too good for you?”

Ivan grinned, wrapping his arm around her waist. “Nah, it’s more like I’m Orion in this situation.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And I’m Eunbi?”

“Obviously. You’re way out of my league, but somehow here you are,” he said, pulling her closer.

“Hmm, nice save.” Somi leaned into him. “Okay, fine, I’ll go. But you’re gonna have to do all the math for me, because that’s not happening.”

Ivan kissed her cheek. “Of course, babe. I got you.”

“Good. Now, when we win, I’m taking all the credit.”

Ivan chuckled, but then his face shifted as he realized something. “Oh crap, I gotta tell the group you’re coming.” He grabbed his phone and quickly started typing a message. “Sejeong and her boyfriend are gonna want to tweak the setup now.”

Somi rolled her eyes playfully. “You make it sound like they’re running a whole operation.”

Ivan grinned. “They are. You know how serious they get about this stuff.”

Somi nodded knowingly. “True, they’re like the eldest siblings of the group. Always organizing everything.”

A few moments later, Sejeong’s phone buzzed. She picked it up and smiled when she saw Ivan’s text about Somi joining the game. “Oh, this is gonna be fun,” she said to herself before turning to her boyfriend, who was focused on something at the other end of the couch.

“Hey, babe,” she called over. “Can you help me with making another player character?”

He looked up, intrigued. “Who’s it for?”

“Somi.”

A grin spread across his face. “Nice. That’ll shake things up.” He thought for a second, then narrowed his brow as he began mentally drafting character ideas. “How about… three levels in Bard and three levels in Sorcerer? That way we’ve got a solid caster, and she can throw in some chaotic fun. We’ll still have enough balance with the fighters.”

Sejeong’s eyes lit up. “Ooh, I like that! College of Eloquence for her Bard side and Wild Magic for Sorcerer. It’s totally her vibe.”

“Definitely,” he agreed, already imagining the wild, charismatic chaos Somi would bring to the table.

As they started refining the character, they began chatting about their friends, as they often did when planning game sessions. It was their way of making sure everyone had a good time. Sejeong had a knack for knowing just the right balance between engaging stories and letting her friends express their personalities through their characters. While her boyfriend excelled at gameplay and mechanical design.

“Orion and Flint are gonna love this,” Sejeong said, scrolling through the character stats on her tablet. “You know how they love when things get crazy.”

“Especially Flint. He thrives on unpredictability,” her boyfriend added, tweaking some numbers. “Mina’s gonna roll her eyes, though. She’s all about the strategy.”

“True,” Sejeong laughed. “But that’s why she and Eunbi will probably end up teaming up—perfect balance. Mina’s tactical, Eunbi all about the story.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, plus, Orion’s probably gonna get distracted with Eunbi half the time anyway. They’re still in that honeymoon phase.”

Sejeong smiled warmly. “It’s cute, though. Let them have their fun.”

They both exchanged a glance, the kind of shared understanding that came from years of knowing their friends’ quirks. Sejeong and her boyfriend had always been the steady presence in the group, the ones everyone could rely on. Whether it was organizing game nights, offering advice, or helping to smooth over conflicts, they were the glue holding everyone together. And for this D&D session, it was no different.

With Somi joining, they knew it was going to be a more chaotic—but fun—night, and they were ready to embrace it.

“Okay,” Sejeong said, standing up and stretching. “Let’s send this to Ivan. Somi’s about to have a blast.”

Sejeong’s boyfriend nodded then said, “Oh we gotta tell everyone Somi is coming. I'll send the info to Flint and you can send it to Orion," Sejeong nodded and watched him reach out to Flint and Mina.

A few seconds before they got the call, Mina and Flint were enjoying a quiet evening together. The warm glow from the kitchen light gave the room a soft, comfortable ambiance. Flint had just finished cooking a steak dinner, and the smell of garlic butter and rosemary filled the air.

Mina took a bite, savoring the flavors, then smiled contentedly. “This is really nice, babe,” she said, her voice full of appreciation.

Flint grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Glad you like it. Worked pretty hard on that steak, you know.”

“I can tell. It’s perfect,” Mina replied, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand.

Flint rubbed the back of his neck, his expression softening. “Well, it’s the least I can do after making you deal with Ori and Bunny all the time.”

Mina raised an eyebrow, giving him a teasing look. “What do you mean by that? I love Orion and Eunbi.”

“I know, I know,” Flint said with a chuckle. “It’s just… they can be a bit much sometimes. And it doesn’t help that Sejeong and Nicky egg them on. Ori’s got this chip on his shoulder the size of a whole Pringles can, and they just… they encourage him to do crazier and crazier stuff to prove himself.”

Mina leaned back, taking another bite before responding. “Let them have their fun. Besides, that chip on Ori’s shoulder has done a lot for us. He’s helped get us out of some tight spots these last two years.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Flint asked, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

Mina gave him a knowing smile. “Like when you got detained by the police, and Orion showed up with all the paperwork and got you out within an hour.”

Flint scratched his head, chuckling sheepishly. “Oh, right. I guess he’s not all that bad, then. But you gotta admit, the guy’s always desperate for a win. Any challenge that comes his way, he’s gotta take it. And now with Bunny egging him on, it’s like they’re in some competition 24/7.”

Mina shrugged, her tone soft and understanding. “But that’s why they work so well together, don’t you think? They believe in each other so much, they think they can do anything. And look at them—they’ve made it happen. He pushes her, and she pushes him. He helped her win with her acting, and she helped him land that great job.”

Flint let out a sigh, leaning his head back against the chair. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right. I just wish they could turn it off sometimes, you know? Not everything’s a game to be won.”

Mina smiled fondly. “True, but then they wouldn’t be the Ori and Bunny we love.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the soft clink of cutlery the only sound between them as they enjoyed their dinner. The evening felt peaceful, warm—a quiet moment that reminded them why they worked so well as a couple. Flint’s thoughtfulness, Mina’s easygoing nature—it all blended perfectly, creating a relaxed space where they could just be themselves.

As they were finishing up, Mina’s phone buzzed on the table. She glanced at it and squealed, her face lighting up with excitement.

Flint glanced up, amused by her reaction. “What is it, babe?”

Mina grinned, looking up from her phone. “Somi’s joining us for D&D tonight!”

“Oh, word? That’s great,” Flint said, leaning back with a smile. “It’ll be like a mini I.O.I reunion.”

“Yessir,” Mina said, still buzzing with excitement. “This is gonna be fun.”

Flint chuckled, seeing how happy she was. He loved these moments—just the two of them, enjoying a quiet evening, sharing excitement about something as simple as a game. It was in these little moments that he felt most connected to her.

Moving back to Sejeong and Nicky they are getting ready with the last few touches to Somi's character sheet, when they remembered they forgot to tell Orion and Bunny. Nicky makes the call.

The sound of rapid button-mashing filled the room as Orion and Eunbi faced off in their latest match of Persona 4 Arena Ultimax. Both were completely focused, their faces illuminated by the glow of the screen.

“C’mon, you really think you can take me down?” Orion teased, not looking away from the action. his hands dances around the top of his hitbox like a delicate dancers or the practiced measure of a trained pianist.

Eunbi shot him a sidelong glance, fingers moving furiously across the controller. “Please, I’m about to wipe the floor with you. You just wait.”

The match was close, each of them going through their block strings trying to crack the other's defensive options and abilities. The tension between them was palpable, but it was playful, electric—both a challenge and an invitation.

Just as Eunbi’s character moved in for what she thought was a finishing blow, Orion grinned. “Too slow.”

He executed a perfect counter, watching as her health bar dropped to zero. The words K.O. flashed across the screen.

“What the hell!” Eunbi shouted, throwing her hands up as Orion burst into laughter.

“Victory is mine!” Orion crowed, leaning back against the couch with a smug grin. he cracked his knuckles with a relaxed ease.

Eunbi narrowed her eyes, not at all fazed by the loss. “Alright, big shot, that was pure luck. Rematch. You’re going down this time.”

“Oh, you think so?” Orion shifted closer, his voice dropping as he playfully taunted her. “You really think you can handle me, babe?”

Eunbi raised an eyebrow, leaning in to match his energy. “Please, I think I can do more than handle you. Just watch.”

For a second, their eyes locked, and the air between them sparked. Their teasing was more than just competition—it was the way they communicated, the way they challenged and pushed each other, both in games and in life. Every match was a test of will, but also a way to get closer. In this heat, they kissed, as their passion melted shifted from the game to just the love of each other.

But just as the heat was beginning to light, Orion’s phone buzzed on the coffee table.

Eunbi groaned as Orion broke the kiss, rolling her eyes. “You better not answer that.”

Orion glanced at the caller ID and sighed. “It’s Nicky. I gotta pick up—could be about the D&D game tonight.”

She sighed, leaning back into the couch. “Fine. But you owe me a rematch after this.”

“Deal,” Orion said, giving her a quick peck on the cheek before answering the phone. “Yo, Nicky, what’s up?”

Nicky’s excited voice crackled through the speaker. “Hey, just wanted to update you. Somi’s joining us tonight for the session. Sejeong and I just finished her character sheet a few minutes ago.”

Orion glanced at Eunbi, already imagining the chaos that Somi would bring to the game. “Oh man, Somi, huh? This is gonna be… interesting.”

“Yeah, buckle up, because we are doing a mega dungeon crawl tonight. See you tonight,” Nick added before hanging up.

Orion set the phone down and grinned at Eunbi. “Looks like we’ve got a wild card tonight. You ready for some chaos?”

Eunbi smirked, grabbing her controller again. “Oh, I was born ready. But first, I’m kicking your ass in this rematch.”

Orion laughed, already leaning in for round two. “Let’s see if you can back up that talk, Eunbi.”

And with that, they dove back into the game, the competitive energy between them as strong as ever, their passion fueled by every challenge thrown their way. After finishing up another set their alarm to leave went off, and they decided to finally get ready to go to Sejeong, and Nicky's home. On the way the grabbed pizza for everyone.

the couple neared the door and Ori turned to Eunbi"you ready?" Orion asks Eunbi as he carries the pizzas inside.

"Always. New Campaign new me." Eunbi replies confident. Orion nods and follows her in as she holds the door open for them as he sets the pizzas down.

"Yay you brought food." Somi said excitedly before going up to Ori and giving him a kiss on the cheek. Eunbi glared subtly at the gesture before moving between the two "So you must be Somi. Ivan's girlfriend." she said coldly

Somi nodded before tilting her head noticing Eunbi’s Evangelion hoodie.

It did little to hide her figure but it brought Hyewob more in line with Somi's mental picture of her.

"Yep that's me Ivan's best girl," Somi said happily. Ivan has told me a little bit about you but I am curious. How did you get into this kind of stuff,"

Eunbi still dealing with her surging jealousy, gripped Orion tight, "Well Ori invited me a few weeks ago and Sejeong and Nicky have been super kind. so I stayed."

Somi smiled, "Yeah that's our leader, always so kind."

after that, everyone gets their character sheets and settles in.

"You all awake in a tavern," Sejeong says but is interrupted by a knock on the door. Sejeong gestures for Ori to open it and is surprised to see Mordenkainen.

As Orion got up to open the door, the atmosphere shifted, and everyone looked on with curiosity. He swung the door open, expecting maybe one of their friends to arrive late—but instead, a figure in long, flowing robes with a shock of white hair stood there, eyes gleaming with an intensity that sent a chill through the room. It was Mordenkainen himself, looming in the doorway with an expression of absolute outrage.

“Oh…wow,” Orion stammered, trying to hold onto his usual bravado. “Uh…can we help you?”

Mordenkainen's gaze swept across the room, his intense eyes narrowing. "You… you have the audacity to play a game based on the lives of my friends and family? This is no laughing matter!"

The group exchanged confused glances. Nicky, who was co-DMing with Sejeong, took a deep breath, trying to regain some control. “Um, sir, we’re just… we’re playing a friendly game. This is just D&D, you know?”

Mordenkainen stepped inside, his robes swishing as he approached the center of the room, his voice resonant and thunderous. “A game? This… trivialization of my world—of the worlds beyond yours—is disgraceful! You mock battles that tore through realms, people who fought for their lives, stories bound by sacrifice. And you reduce it to dice and… pizza?”

Eunbi snorted, half amused, trying to hold back a laugh, but a sharp glance from Mordenkainen silenced her. Even Orion, usually the bold one, shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

“Listen,” Flint began, trying to reason with the imposing figure, “we’re not trying to insult anyone. We’re just… inspired by your world. It’s kind of a compliment?”

“Compliment?” Mordenkainen bellowed. He raised a hand, and with a snap of his fingers, the lights flickered, the walls trembled, and a portal swirled into existence, casting an eerie blue light across the room.

Sejeong, who’d been completely silent, finally found her voice, “Okay, hold on. No need for drastic measures. We’ll… uh… stop playing? We don’t want any trouble.”

“Oh, you’ll stop playing,” Mordenkainen said, a dangerous glint in his eye, “because you’ll be living it.”

With a wave of his hand, a flash of blinding light filled the room. Everyone felt a rush of wind and a strange tingling sensation as if they were being pulled apart and reassembled at the same time.

When the light faded, they found themselves sprawled on the ground, groggy and disoriented, their clothing now replaced with fantastical garb. Orion glanced down at his attire, light armor with a scary-looking axe strapped to his back. Eunbi stood beside him, equally stunned, decked out in flowing robes adorned with ancient symbols.

“Wait… are we… are we in the game?” Somi asked, staring in awe at her new mage’s robes, a staff clutched in her hand.

Ivan, looking down at the armor that replaced his jeans and T-shirt, could only stammer, “This… this can’t be real. This… has to be a prank, right?”

Sejeong checked herself over, now clad in the resplendent armor she’d always envisioned for her character, a high-ranking cleric. She looked at Nicky, who was equally stunned, holding a bard’s lute.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, realization dawning. “This is real. We’re actually in the game.”

Mordenkainen’s voice echoed in their minds, seemingly coming from the sky itself, “Perhaps now, you’ll understand the gravity of the worlds you toy with. Prove yourselves worthy, and maybe—maybe—you’ll find a way home. Fail, and you’ll be trapped here as characters in this world forever.”

The group exchanged a mix of terrified and exhilarated glances, the reality of their situation beginning to sink in. Flint and Mina stood close together while Ori held his head as a headache started ringing in his ears. Eunbi approached him concerned. He winced when she touched his head as visions of gods and monsters swam through his head.

Taking charge he said firmly, “We should probably find the nearest town and find lodging before the night comes. The party nodded as they headed in the direction of smoke. That smoke led them to a town being overrun by skeletons resurrected by the evil Lich Nevinyrral. The group was first attacked but a quick reaction from Sejeong she took out a holy symbol and the skeletons turned away expeditiously… or they would if it weren't for the radiant glowing Orion who slammed into another one and crushed another with his mighty great axe. He was able to clean up the rest as he turned the skeletons to dust. They noticed a dual inscription on it but none of them (except Ori) spoke or read the language.

After the battle, the remaining townspeople praised the heroes. They stood wary of Ori however due to his scarred face and body until the rest pushed him to the front.

"You saved us Why?" the mayor asked wary of the Scourge Aasimar with Dark red spots covering his body.

"Well we needed lodging and food for the night before we continue our journey. that's kinda hard when everyone is dead." Ori said.

The mayor laughed and said, "Well at least you all are practical. If you're not to opposed the church house can serve as your base of operations. if you so chose, since our god has abandoned us. We will bring food for you as well." The group noded then headed to the house of the Jade Seraph. the approach the church house solemnly, but as soon As Ori enters. He sees visions of more gods and battles causing him to collapse.

As their characters' memories merge with theirs Eunbi speaks up, "He's getting worse. What do we do?" Sejeong sighs and does another calm emotion spell on Ori hopefully stopping the progress of his ailment at least a little bit.

"We better find that Mage fast!" Flint asserts. Mina, Somi and Ivan nod before all finding places in the monastery. Ori finds a quiet corner to sleep in away from the group.

After settling in at the Jade Seraph’s monastery, Mina and Flint exchanged a glance, silently agreeing that they needed to get out for a bit. Flint leaned in close, whispering, “Let’s take a walk around the town. Maybe we can find out more about this world we’re stuck in—and get some alone time too.”

Mina smiled and nodded. She grabbed his hand as they slipped quietly out of the church house, leaving the others to recover and set up.

Outside, the town was still tense but slowly beginning to relax after the recent skeleton attack. Torches lined the cobblestone streets, and a few market stalls were cautiously reopening, their owners eyeing the streets warily, but there was a hopeful buzz in the air after the group’s intervention. The cool evening air and the faint smell of wood smoke brought a sense of calm to Flint and Mina as they wandered hand in hand.

They stopped at a small food stall run by an elderly woman selling what looked like hot skewers of spiced meat. Flint bought a couple, handing one to Mina with a warm smile. She took a bite, eyes lighting up as the taste hit her. “Wow, this is… actually really good,” she said, savoring the smoky, peppery flavors.

Flint laughed. “Gotta say, I didn’t expect food to taste this good here either. But I’ll take it. Now, if only we could figure out how long we’re going to be here…”

Just then, a tall, cloaked figure approached the stall, catching their attention. Flint subtly pulled Mina a bit closer as the figure ordered in a low, gravelly voice. Curious and cautiously friendly, Mina leaned toward him. “Excuse me, sir. We’re… new in town. Could you tell us what’s been going on here?”

The figure turned, revealing the face of a battle-worn man with a weary expression. He looked them up and down, nodding. “You’re not from these parts, are you? I can tell by your garb.” He cleared his throat and continued, “This town has been plagued by the dark magic of Nevinyrral. He’s a lich who’s been terrorizing the villages on the outskirts for years now, resurrecting the dead to do his bidding. Every few months, he sends his skeletons to wreak havoc and remind us of his power.”

Mina’s eyes widened. “And… the gods? We heard the people talking about a god abandoning the town.”

The man spat on the ground bitterly. “The Jade Seraph, our patron godess, hasn’t answered our prayers for years. Some say she’s left us for good, while others whisper she’s been captured by Nevinyrral himself, his powers drained for dark purposes.”

Flint’s hand tightened around Mina’s. “Do you know of anyone in town who might be able to help us? Someone with knowledge of the gods, or perhaps even magic?”

The man glanced around cautiously, then nodded. “Seek out Elara, the town’s herbalist and a follower of the Old Ways. She has knowledge of magic—more than she lets on. You’ll find her on the edge of the forest, near the willow grove. But be careful. She doesn’t trust strangers.”

“Thank you,” Mina said, dipping her head in gratitude. She exchanged a look with Flint, excitement and apprehension in her eyes. “We’ve got a lead now,” she murmured as they continued walking.

As they made their way to the forest’s edge, the town’s rustic charm was replaced by an eerie quiet. Shadows danced beneath the trees as they approached a small, ivy-covered cottage with lanterns lighting a narrow path. Inside, Elara was mixing herbs when she noticed them standing hesitantly at her door.

“Strangers,” she said, her tone wary but intrigued. “You seek answers. Why?”

Flint stepped forward. “We’re not from here. We were… brought to this world by magic, and now we’re looking for a way to go back. But it seems there’s more going on here than we realized. We want to understand this place, to help where we can.”

Elara’s gaze softened. “If you wish to learn, then enter. But understand that knowledge here often comes with a price.” She motioned them inside, and they followed her, exchanging a brief, reassuring look.

The air inside the cottage was thick with the scent of herbs and old parchment. Elara gestured for them to sit, and as she began to tell them more about the lich, the town’s lost god, and the ancient magic that bound their world, Mina and Flint listened intently, feeling as if the pieces of a larger puzzle were finally beginning to fall into place.

For the first time since they’d arrived, they felt a glimmer of hope—not only that they might find a way home, but that they could make a difference here, maybe even defeat Nevinyrral himself.

As Mina and Flint slipped out, the remaining group settled into the dimly lit corners of the monastery. Ori sat by one of the worn pews, his back against the cold stone wall, looking drained and uneasy. Eunbi noticed him from across the room, a thoughtful look on her face. After a few quiet moments, she made her way over to him, sitting down beside him and resting her hand on his.

“Hey,” she said softly, breaking the silence. “How’s the head?”

Ori exhaled, his gaze fixed on the dusty wooden floor. “Feels like I’ve been caught in a storm I can’t see. Visions, memories that aren’t mine… They just keep flooding in.” He looked at her, his eyes clouded with confusion and something else—fear. “Bunny, I don’t even know what’s real anymore.”

She reached out, gently cupping his face, brushing her thumb across his cheek. “We’re here, Ori. Right here, together. That’s real.”

He leaned into her touch, a small measure of comfort slipping through the tension he was holding onto. “It’s not just the visions,” he murmured, voice barely audible. “I feel… different. Stronger, but also… angry. Like there’s something in me I can’t control.” He clenched his fists, and for a second, they glowed with a faint, radiant energy before dimming again. “It’s like I’m becoming something else.”

Eunbi laced her fingers with his, squeezing his hand firmly. “I get it. I don’t have whatever this new power is like you do, but I feel like… part of me is changing here, too.” She paused, her own vulnerability showing. “Being here, seeing you go through this… It makes me think about what we have. What if we don’t get back home? What if this is all we’ve got?”

Ori looked at her, eyes softening. “Then… we’ll make this place ours. If this is where we’re meant to be, we’ll find a way to live and be happy, no matter what.” He brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear, his hand lingering. “But if we get back, I want to make sure I don’t leave anything unsaid. I don’t want to waste time, not with you.”

Eunbi’s breath hitched, and she held his gaze. “Me neither,” she whispered, her hand sliding up to his shoulder as she leaned in. “I don’t want to hold back anymore, Ori. Not in here, and not out there.”

They shared a kiss, soft and lingering, a grounding force in the whirlwind of uncertainty. For that brief moment, the world around them faded away, leaving only the warmth between them, a promise that even in this strange, unfamiliar place, they had each other.

When they pulled back, Ori sighed, a bit of the tension easing from his shoulders. “Whatever happens, Bunny… you and me, we’ll face it together. I promise.”

She nodded, her expression resolute. “Together.” Ori nodded as Eunbi brought him in for a kiss. her hands cupped his face gently as they kissed again. Eunbi smiled.

"You smell so nice. Like Oranges Vanilla ice cream" she said. Ori smiled as they kissed, again. his hands found purchase on her chest.

"No matter the world you still drive me crazy, and I love you," Ori said.

Eunbi smiled as she undid her armor and dress before saying, "prove it."

Sejeong and Nicky settled by a low fire in the monastery’s quietest corner, their voices hushed. Nicky leaned in close, his expression tense. “We really need to talk about Ori’s backstory. If we’re actually in this world, then… well, his 'Creator' might actually exist out here, and he could be looking for him.” Sejeong looked over at Ori, who was resting uneasily in a far corner, shrouded in shadows. “You mean the necroalchemist,” she whispered. “The one obsessed with ascension? With turning one of his creations into a god?” “Yeah,” Nicky nodded, his voice barely audible. “Remember, Ori was his closest success. He wasn’t just made; he was made to be perfect, to force a kind of unnatural divine evolution.” Nicky’s voice grew even lower. “If the Creator is here, he’ll be hell-bent on finishing what he started.” Sejeong shivered, the weight of the situation sinking in. “So if Ori’s backstory holds true here, it’s not just a dangerous world—it’s a hostile one. One that might see him as either a target or as a prized possession. We’re going to have to protect him, and… well, he’s going to have to face things he never signed up for.” Nicky nodded slowly, his eyes on Ori, the weight of their shared responsibility settling on them both. “We’ll watch his back. But we need to prepare him too… there are things even he doesn’t know about his origin, and if we don’t tell him soon, the truth might catch up with him before he’s ready.” Sejeong clenched her jaw, steeling herself. “Alright. When the time comes, we’ll make sure he knows.”

#kpop fanfic #fanfic #dnd smut #somi smut #eunbi smut

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lonelyleliel · 2 days ago

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lol I wonder how many air/earth placements this one has… Jk, jk. @batmanisagatewaydrug

I think us queer people love astrology because our identities and personalities are misunderstood or ridiculed all the time. So we look to things like astrology as a fun identifier. You know…for fun. It’s a medium of entertainment, a cheerful topic, and an enjoyable way to reflect whether you really believe in it or not.

It’s okay if you think it’s meaningless. There are people who feel the same about art, music, TV shows, movies, personality tests…even poetry. 👀

In fact, if you think about why anyone reads or writes poetry, from classic to modern, it’s filled with expressions about causation and identifiers that may or may not be accurate, but gives a moment of introspection. From metaphors about how nature parallels life, broken hearts writing on the page instead your hand, how empathy caused a spontaneous connection and apathy caused a revelation, how astronomy correlates with a reflection of our significance (or insignificance), mythology birthing philosophy, science challenging faith… I mean, I could go on forever, but someone could still approach me or you and say “poetry is meaningless”.

And if that ever happens to you, fellow poet, I hope you laugh in their fucking face and return to enjoying what you love. ❤️

By the way, I’m an Aquarius Sun, Gemini Moon, and Leo Rising.

it does still make me insane specifically how many queer people lovingly embrace astrology. I went to a poetry workshop yesterday that was genuinely quite good but also included an option to disclose astrology designations during introductions and so many people broke out some variation of "I'm a [x] sum but I have a [y] placement and it SHOWS" girl no it doesn't. that's meaningless correlation you completely invented the causation

#astrology #queer culture #lgbtqia #poetry

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tan1shere · 2 days ago

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Naked

Billie Eilish x female reader !

A/n: this is for this post ! I hope this is good with what I can do babe !! <33

Summary: you had to shop for a wedding, but distractions, distractions. Distractions.

Warnings: soft dom billie, smut, public sex kinda ?? Mirror sex ???

Masterlist

Weddings had been a thing recently, and this was a special one. Finneas and Claudia's big day. You were obviously Claudia's bridesmaid, and nothing about this wedding is at all traditional which is what you loved about them. Claudia has a color theme and has let the bridesmaids pick their own dresses. Billie is on Finns side and she was so happy.

Few weeks earlier

"This is so exciting, I still can't believe it's a few months away." You beam, taking a sip of your drink. "We wanted to ask you both something." You and Billie nod for her to continue, when Finneas speaks up. "Billie, I want you to be my best m- woman?" Billies eyes widened. "Really?" He nods. "Why so surprised it was always going to happen." He says as she flies into his arms for a hug. "I just figured since I am female I'd be on Claudia's side." - "I knew you wouldn't mind being on the mens side." Billies face was filled with so much joy. "And Y/n." Claudia begins. "Would you do the honors of being one of my bridesmaids?" You nod vigorously. "Yes ofcourse!"

You all have a drink to toast the occasion, all happy and excited for this wedding.

"Should I go with a black suit or spice things up?" She contemplates outloud. "Did Finn say anything specific?" She shakes her head. "Whatever you think babe, you'll look hot and powerful either way." You smile at her as she smirks. "Yeah?" The color scheme was golds and browns. So either a gold or brown dress for you. As you browse you see this lovely in between color, it was absolutely perfect. You grab it going to go try it on. Meanwhile, Billie had found a few suits. "I'm so excited and so glad he asked."

You laugh a little. "You're his family ofcourse he would." Once it was on, you go out and into the stall next to you, the one Billie was in. You make sure that she isn't exposed as you open the curtain, spotting her in the pants and the white shirt that's loosely on her. She looked so good. "Wow.." You say from behind her, causing her to turn around. She looks at you, up and down. "Shit." She then says. "That fits you, really. Really well." She says trailing off. You blush and push her arm to get her focused again. "Put all of yours on I wanna see."

She does turning around and getting your reaction. "You look so good, how will I be able to resist on the night." She chuckles. "I could say the exact same thing for you because fuck. Oh wait I just had the perfect idea!" She then says leaving you in there. You stand there dumbfounded. But she comes back soon after with a tie in hand, almost identical to your dress color. You smile wide as she goes to put it on. "Uh-huhhh." She says proudly. "Matching." You smile at her enthusiasm.

"We do look good." You say standing next to her. She looks at you through the mirror. "You look so yum." She breathes. Her choice of wording makes you stiffen, feeling your cheeks heat up. "Billie." You blush more. She looks around for a moment, pulling the curtain across. Grabbing the stools that were in there and putting them against it so it would stay put. "What're you-" You question but her lips are on yours, hands on your waist. They move lower to your thighs. Letting her right hand move under the slit of your dress. You pull back out of breath.

Kissin and touchin when we in public.

"Are you nuts?" You then say wide eyed. "For you in this dress, hell yeah." She leans in for another kiss but you put your finger to her lips. "Baby, we are in public!" She smirks down at your worry. "Probably best you keep quiet this time then." Your eyebrow raises. "I sense a challenge within that statement." She shrugs, a smug look on her face. "I'm not that loud!" You whisper yell. Her head just tilts as you say that. "Babe, the neighbors know my name and I don't even know theirs." You roll your eyes.

I know you love it.

"Uhmm, your pretty well known that could be why?" She tries not to laugh. "Shes a little old lady. She don't know me baby." You glare at her. "If you don't think you can be quiet we can just wait til we get home or even in the car-" "Nah nah nah, I see what you're doing." She smirks again. "Is it working?"She asks. You grab her by the collar. "Yes." She kisses you back almost instantly as your lips crash back onto hers. Everything was heated but you had to remember to stay quiet, and the fact that you were in public. "Think you can do it?" She smirks, going to kiss your neck.

You breathe out when She does. "Yup." She spins you around in her arms, getting you to look in the mirror. Her hand sliding to your exposed thigh, moving that hand up. Further. And further. Till her finger was dipping past your underwear and straigh to your entrance. As a finger dips in, her lips go to your ear. Whispering. "I just wanna see you naked." She was making this harder for you to stay quiet. You bite your lip suppressing any noise that could slip. "Good girl, stay quiet. You got it." She whispers again.

That pussy feels like, droptop in the rain.

Her hot breath driving you mental as her finger quickens it's pace. "Bills.." You whisper, she knows you're struggling to handle it. "Dont crack now." Your hand grips her arm tightly. Wanting to curse so badly. Your head lulls back on her shoulder as her fingers deepen. Your head spins, trying extra hard to stay silent. "God." You mumble, it was getting trickier as someone was heard in the stall next to you. "Didn't know that was one of the nicknames you called me." She whispers again, but abruptly stopping when you arch your back. Your ass, poking into her.

She lets out a sharp breath into your ear. You didn't do it on purpose, but she wanted to push you further. Her thumb slips in aswel, heading straight for that button that when is pressed sends you feral. Your clit. Your head lifts back up to look at her through the mirror silently pleading for her to ease up. She circles it firmly, causing your mouth to hang open. She was down right nefarious. And she wasn't stopping till you had her hand dripping with her work. Your head spins as she speeds up both movements. Moving her other hand up to your neck.

She wraps her hand around it loosely, but as soon as you arch your back again she tightens that same hand as a warning. Was she the one going to break and make a noise? You kinda wanted to test it. But as you go to, that grip tightens more around your throat. You bite your lip, harder this time. And silently you give her a look in the mirror that you wouldn't be able to hold on much longer. That just makes her speed up, to get you to that sweet release. She cups your pussy as you eventually cum. Making sure there was no evidence. She slowly pulls them out, bringing them to her lips. You really were yum. She straightens out your dress again, fixing your hair too.

"These are the ones." She says.

#billie eilish #billie elish icons #billie ellish lyrics #billie #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish smut #billie eilish fanfiction #billie elish moodboard #billie eilish x you #billie eilish x reader smut #billie eilish x y/n

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fluentmoviequoter · 3 days ago

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I'm Closer

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!reader

Summary: During a string of break-ins in your neighborhood, you have to stay home alone while Tim works a night shift. When the intruder gets close to you, you remember Tim is always closer.

Warnings: depictions of breaking and entering, anxiety/fear, vague threat, fluff and comfort

Word Count: 1.8k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Rules

When Tim returns home, you’re sitting in the corner of the couch with your knees pulled up towards your chest as you type on your phone. He sighs and locks the door behind him.

“Where?” he asks, moving to stand behind you before he lays his hands on your shoulders.

“Two streets over,” you answer. “The Clarksons.”

You click the power button and toss your phone aside before you stand on the couch. Tim’s hands fall to your hips as he tilts his head back to look at you.

“How many is that?” you ask softly.

“Fifteen,” he replies. “There was one yesterday afternoon, we were investigating it all morning. Seven detectives and not a single lead between them.”

Leaning forward, you place your hands on Tim’s shoulders. He lifts your hips and pulls you carefully over the back of the couch. Before your feet touch the ground, you move your arms around Tim’s shoulders and hug him tightly.

“What if we’re next?” you ask against his neck.

Tim doesn’t answer right away, opting to tighten his grip on you as he moves one hand to smooth over the back of your head. He understands your concern. You have both been on edge since the second reported robbery. Fifteen break-ins in your neighborhood in less than three weeks is more than enough cause for concern. Each report makes Tim more eager to get the thief in cuffs but simultaneously discourages him from leaving you home alone. You’ve been triple-checking locks even when he is home, so he can’t imagine the weight you’re carrying when he’s gone.

“I’ve been driving by every few hours,” Tim tells you. “And Wade has patrol officers all over this area. We’re going to catch him.”

You nod against Tim. You desperately want to believe him but refuse to let your guard down. Tim mumbles something against your hair, and you pull back just enough to tilt your chin up.

He sighs, then says, “I have to work the night shift tomorrow. If you want to go stay somewhere else, I get it.”

You shake your head and take Tim’s hand, leading him toward your bedroom. “There really haven’t been any leads? Not even what kind of house they’re targeting or anything?”

“Nothing,” Tim laments. “Whoever this is, they don’t seem to be picky.”

“Comforting.”

Tim chuckles at your tone, then wraps his arms around you again. You never feel safer than when you’re in Tim’s arms. Neither of you are the kind of person to run from a fight, so you will stay in your home tomorrow, alone, and trust Tim and his fellow officers to find the bad guy before anything else happens.

“I could ask Smitty to park his car in the driveway for his hourly naps, try to scare anyone off with the sight of a police car coming and going,” Tim suggests.

“That would work great until they see the donut-hungover cop in it,” you joke.

“Call me tomorrow night, okay? For anything.”

“I will,” you promise. “I love you, Tim.”

The following night, after you kiss Tim goodbye and promise again to call him if you need something and to check in often, you walk into the kitchen and begin cooking yourself dinner. You aren’t hungry, you're too concerned with checking each car that drives by the window and ensuring no one can see inside the house. You walk through the house and check the locks as your food cooks. Everything is fine, you remind yourself as you carry your food to the couch. You turn on the television, hoping it will serve as a welcome distraction until you’re ready for bed.

Tim looks away from the computer monitor before him to check his watch. You’re probably getting ready for bed, and your last update was only a few minutes ago when you said everything was fine and the closest neighbors were home from work.

“Grey,” he calls.

“Two patrol cars are circling now,” Wade answers without looking up from his folder. “Everything’s quiet.”

Tim nods to himself, then clicks his keyboard to resume the security camera footage. Lucy yawns beside him, and Tim resists asking Wade which officers are in your neighborhood. If something were to happen, you’d be more likely to call Tim than dispatch, and he’d like to know who is close.

“She’ll be fine,” Lucy assures him softly.

“She better be,” he responds before watching a man in a bright red tracksuit enter a gas station with a gun in his hand.

You enter the guest room across the hall from your master suite with your phone in your hand to ensure the windows are locked. The windows on this side of your house aren’t very easily accessible, but you check them regardless. In your pajamas and ready for bed, you tug on the window latch and nod when it doesn’t move. Raising your phone, you open your text thread with Tim and begin typing a message. You pause when something makes a scraping noise outside. It goes silent, and several seconds later, you resume typing.

Just before you hit send, a loud pop echoes through the hallway before the undeniable noise of a window sliding open reaches your ears. Two soft footsteps follow soon after, and you begin to panic. You look around for something to defend yourself with, then suddenly remember that Tim told you to take cover first and then defend yourself only if necessary in a situation like this.

The closet door is open, so you grab the nearest object before sliding onto the floor beneath the extra clothes. Carefully, quietly, you pull the door closer to the jamb, then sit back in the dark corner and call Tim.

Tim pauses the surveillance video, zooms in, and gets a clear image of the suspect’s driver’s license as he removes his wallet to pay for a Red Bull. He rolls his eyes at the criminal’s stupidity but mentally thanks him for saving Tim some time finding him. Tim’s phone rings, and Lucy jerks as if she had been asleep.

“Hello?” Tim asks, pushing away from the desk as he waits to hear your voice.

“Tim,” you whisper, clearly panicked.

He stands immediately and lowers his voice to ask, “What’s wrong?”

You take a shaky, shallow breath that tightens Tim’s chest before you say, “Someone’s in the house. I was checking the windows, and then there was a pop in out bedroom I think… Tim, I can hear their footsteps, please come home.”

Tim jumps over the desk he’d been seated at, ignores the calls of his coworkers, and runs through the station to get to his truck. He knows he should alert Grey, dispatch, or anybody, but his thoughts are on getting home and ensuring you’re safe.

“Talk to me,” Tim requests as he slams the door of his truck closed and starts the engine.

“Tim,” you whimper, clutching your phone as your hands shake. “I think they’re going down the hall.”

“I’m on my way,” he promises. The radio in his truck lights up, and he hopes someone saw something and the officers in your neighborhood are on their way.

You murmur something that Tim can’t decipher but remain silent when he asks you to repeat yourself. The truck’s transmission revs as he presses the accelerator to the floor, fighting to keep his mind away from the worst-case scenario. As he turns onto your street, setting a new record for how fast the commute has ever been driven, Tim slams the gearshift into park several houses down. He leaves the truck running with the door open as he runs down the street and unlocks a side entrance to enter.

“I’m here,” he whispers to you before entering the house. He puts his phone in his pocket and raises his gun as he moves carefully through the house. You’re hiding somewhere but thought the unwelcomed visitor was coming toward the main part of the house. A door clicks somewhere down the hall, and Tim abandons his goal of clearing the kitchen to find you.

In the guestroom closet, you hold your phone to your ear with one hand while pressing the other to your mouth to muffle your breathing. The door into the bedroom clicks as it is pushed open farther, and you push yourself against the wall behind you. Tim is in the house somewhere, but your mind is racing with panic and fear. You peek through the gap in the door and see a masked intruder moving carefully through the room. Suddenly, he turns toward the closet, and you close your eyes.

Tim looks into your bedroom, where the window latch has been blown off by a small explosive device, but sees no evidence of anyone currently inside. The door across the hall, however, stands wide open. With his gun ready, Tim crosses the hall and presses his back to the wall before stepping inside.

“LAPD, stop where you are,” he demands.

The masked man stops, halfway between Tim and the closet. Tim sees the closet door isn’t completely closed and wonders if that’s where you are. Sirens sound outside, and Tim takes another step into the room.

“Hands up,” he instructs. “Interlace your fingers and place them behind your head.”

“You’re too late,” the man taunts.

Tim ignores him, and how his stomach rolls at the idea that anything could have happened to you while his phone was in his pocket. “Kneel.” Once the man is on the ground, an officer announces his presence downstairs, and Tim shoves the man unceremoniously toward the hallway and yells his location and that there is one in custody.

Then, Tim abandons his duty to keep the suspect secure as he turns toward you. He opens the closet door carefully, then drops to his knees. When you see him, you lower your phone and reach for Tim. He takes your hands and pulls you closer, whispering promises that you’re safe and he will never put you in this position again.

“When I said to always have something to protect yourself, I meant something a bit more substantial than a bowl,” Tim says, reaching for the jewelry tray you grabbed before hiding.

“It’s heavy,” you defend weakly.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

“You’re here now.”

Tim pulls you closer, blocking out the noise of the officers apprehending the intruder, and your adrenaline wears off as you realize you can feel safe at home again.

“How did you get here so fast?” you ask as Tim helps you stand.

“Don’t tell Wade but I broke a few laws.”

You laugh and then furrow your brows. “How did he get in?”

“Right,” Tim remembers. “We need a new window.”

“He was really close,” you murmur.

Tim gently holds your chin as he kisses your forehead. “I’m closer,” he vows before cupping your cheeks and kissing you.

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x fem!reader #tim bradford fic #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford #the rookie abc #the rookie x reader #fem!reader #requests #hanna writes✯

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scuderiahalf · 1 day ago

Text

(almost) one year with you — c.sainz

pairing. carlos sainz x strategist!norris!fem!reader

summary. your boyfriend is usually so intelligent. when he makes one of the stupidest decisions of his life to break up with you, his best friend (and your idiot brother) decides to take matters into his own hands. 4.3k, 18+

warnings. breakups = makeup sex, oral (fem receiving), fingering, reader is kind of a bitch but carlos is into it

masterlist.

"I'm going to kick the door open."

"Please, do not do that," Carlos says from behind you.

"You think I can't?"

Smartly, Carlos chooses not to voice any further opinions.

You kick the door, more out of frustration than an actual attempt to break it open.

"I'm going to murder you when I get out of here, Lando!" you shout against the door, not really caring if your idiot brother has hung around to hear the very real threat.

You may not actually kill him (you're still debating it) but you will definitely hit him. At least five times. Maybe more. And he's not getting any of your late-night stress-baked cookies for several months. Asshole.

You kick the door again, harder. The wood bends near the bottom from the impact, rattling in the doorframe but otherwise unmoving. Your groan turns into a yell of frustration, punctuated by you hitting the still closed door with both hands. You seriously cannot believe Lando would do this.

"Are you finished?"

Carlos sounds almost amused.

If he hadn't been literally thrown into the room by not just Lando but Max and Alex as well, you might think he's in on this whole scheme. Instead, you just glare at him, irritated that he's so calm while you're both being held against your will.

"Is being made to be near me that horrible?" Carlos says.

"Oh, fuck off."

"You are acting as if they will not have to let us out eventually."

"How long is that going to take? Huh? I don't want to be locked in here for hours. It's actually FUCKING RIDICULOUS!"

You're shouting at the door again, hoping your dumbass brother and his stupid fucking friends can hear.

They all better be prepared for the consequences. There's no one better at holding a grudge than you.

You never should have trusted Lando when he had insisted you come to Charles Leclerc’s dumb yacht party. He never wants to be seen in public with you much less all but beg you to attend a party with all his friends who are so much cooler than you because he's an F1 driver and all his friends are, too, and you're just a strategist.

(You never thought that being a trackside strategist at Scuderia Ferrari would be preceded by "just" as though it isn't an impressive feat but with a brother like Lando Norris, nothing you do ever really seems to measure up. You're the reason Lando ever got into racing or F1 in the first place. So really, this is your own fault.)

You give up harassing the door (it locks from the inside so there must be something blocking it in the hallway) and start searching the room for another way out. It's a bedroom, and you're choosing to assume that it just happened to be the easiest place to trap you both and not a purposeful nudge to something untoward. Lando isn't that crude. You think.

After this little stunt, you don't think he deserves the benefit of the doubt.

You start checking all the drawers to see if there's anything useful. You don't actually know what you're looking for. Maybe like a fire axe or a hand saw so you can brute force your way out of here.

"We could talk," Carlos proposes.

"And give Lando what he wants? No, thank you."

"You are so proud. Can we not talk this out?"

"What's there to talk out, Carlos? You dumped me, remember?"

That shuts him up.

You refuse to look at him. Even with your back to him as you search through a completely empty dresser, you can feel the look on his face. Full lips pouting, big brown cow eyes all sad and pitiful. You'd fold like a cheap suit if you saw his pretty eyes right now and you're trying really hard to stay strong and hang onto your anger so you won't give in.

There's nothing in any of the dresser drawers. The nightstands are fruitless, too. The wardrobe houses only empty hangers, and not even the cheap wire ones that could be bent into something useful like a weapon to kill yourself with if things get any more tense in this tiny room.

"I regret it," he says.

You close the wardrobe with a heavy breath.

"I regretted it as soon as I said we should end it."

"Cry me a river, Sainz. Build a bridge. Get over it. You don't get to call me ‘nothing but a distraction’ then tell me you regret it and expect me to forgive you just like that—fuck this. I'm going to swim to shore."

You yank the balcony door open and climb up onto one of the chairs so you can get over the railing.

"Y/N!" Carlos curses in Spanish, scrambles after you and gets an arm around you before you can actually step up onto the railing. "What are you doing?!"

"I just said! I'm going to swim to shore. Let me go!"

Carlos picks you up like a purse dog and carries you back into the room. He stands in front of the balcony door after setting you down, blocking your only escape route.

"You cannot swim to shore. We are miles out of sea!"

"If it gets me out of this room, I'd do it!"

"Can you not just talk to me?"

"No!"

"Why?!"

"Because I don't want to!"

"What are you afraid is to happen?"

"I don't have to explain myself. Especially not to you."

So, you don't explain yourself. You walk over to the couch and take a seat, arms and legs crossed, looking anywhere but at Carlos.

You knew what you were getting into when you agreed to that first date with Carlos last year. You know what you were signing up for. You knew all the judgement would be on you if/when you decided to go public. You knew Ferrari would have many things to say about your relationship, and they did, when you told them earlier in the season before it could potentially get ugly with a reveal from unsasvory sources.

You knew all of that and you went for it, anyway, because could you even call yourself a Norris if you didn't go after what you wanted? You knew what being with Carlos would bring but apparently, you were the only one.

After eleven amazing months together, Carlos got cold feet. You don't know how else to describe it. You had told your family after three months; he'd told his after just one. Everyone was happy for you. Your family loves Carlos, and the Sainz clan accepted you with open arms. You were so happy.

But as your relationship pushed a year, Carlos said you needed to talk, called you a distraction, subsequently hazardous for his line of work, and ended things.

Did you call him an emotionally stunted manchild before storming out of the cafe he asked to meet at? If you did, he surely deserved it.

A few weeks after that, you're where you are now, locked in a bedroom on a yacht while a party rages on several floors above. Carlos says he regrets breaking up with you, that he wanted to take back everything he said, but he already said it and that's how things are now.

You'll not be the girl he comes crawling back to whenever it's convenient for him. If going steady is a hazard for work, then an off again-on again situationship is definitely not OSHA-compliant. You refuse to lower yourself to being a doormat that Carlos wipes his feet on whenever he feels he has the time.

After a while of standing guard at the balcony door, Carlos makes a move to sit on the couch with you.

"No," you say.

He halts midstep.

"You can sit on the bed."

Slowly, as though giving you a chance to change your mind, Carlos sulks over to the bed and sits.

He's moving to Williams next year. He has only a handful of races left in rosso corsa. He doesn't know you're sitting on a job offer that could have you following him, a promotion to head strategist at the Oxfordshire team that you can't believe you're actually debating because of your standing with a man.

You've told no one of Williams's proposition. So, you really don't know why you open your mouth to tell Carlos of all people.

"Williams wants me as their head strategist."

He looks up, eyes bright, surprised but excited for you. "What? That is amazing."

"Yeah, I know it is," you say, glaring at him again. "I haven't accepted yet, though."

Carlos is quiet, then carefully says, "Because of me?"

"No," you say because it's just ridiculous for that to be the reason you're holding up contract negotiations, "Yes, because of you. Obviously. I don't want you thinking I'm following you. I'm not. I'm pursuing my career. So, I know that changes you being all regretful. I just want to clarify things before you hear about it from someone else.”

“Why would it change how I feel?”

“Because we’ll still be coworkers next season.”

“That changes it? What does it change?”

Carlos' accent (hot as fuck) and the way he doesn't always say things 100% correct (cute as fuck) are misleading for his actual understanding of the English language. So, you're really not sure what he's getting confused over.

He's leaving. You were supposed to be staying. No longer working together meant no distractions for him until you would meet up at a hotel after a shitty quali and he would fuck the shit out of you. Or something like that.

It'd feel good in the moment but you don't want him for just sex. You don't want casual. You don't want to be a convenient, low-maintenance, not-quite-official girlfriend. You won't do it. No matter how pretty he is.

And his plan to get you back was ruined now that you'd be moving to Williams for next season, anyway.

“I’d not be a distraction if I was staying at Ferrari. Now, we’ll both still be on the same team. Not convenient for you to still be in a toxic work environment, huh? So, you can cut the crap.”

“That has nothing to do with my regret."

"I won't be a casual fuck buddy who you can't stand to be around when it doesn't work for you."

"I never said that!"

He seems genuinely hurt by your implication but you won't fall for it, won't let it deter you.

"It's kind of implied. You know with the whole 'I have to focus on my driving' thing. Like, what the fuck were you doing for the rest of the time we were together? Nothing changed and you suddenly decided it was too much, then you want me back but I ruined that for you. You'll be seeing me next year, too, so don't even bother with the whole regret speech or whatever."

"I—," Carlos starts, then says nothing.

He can't seem to find the words.

"What? Nothing to say? You wanted to talk. Talk."

"If I am in a team with you or not," he says, slow, calculated, "It does not change that I regret what I said."

Carlos takes a second to think before continuing. That's where you two differ.

Carlos has always been incredibly intelligent. You knew he was gorgeous before you had ever met in person but his mind made him appeal even more to you when you first started working trackside last season. Long, intellectual conversations preceded him asking you out after his masterclass in Singapore.

You nearly started foaming at the mouth when he said "it's on purpose" to keeping your brother within DRS to hold off Mercedes. You were ready to jump his bones right then and there in the middle of the team celebration when he asked you to dinner before you flew back to England.

But he was a gentleman. (He didn't fuck you until after your second date, but it was a close thing that first night when you leaned over the center console to kiss him. You'd have ridden him right there in the front seat of that rental car if your idiot brother hadn't chosen then to walk by and make a scene. Kind of a mood killer.)

The two of you both found fascination in the other's way of thinking, Carlos' smooth logic and your chaotic brilliance. He is all thought and few words while you talk and talk until you find your solution.

You always found beauty in the contrast. You balance each other. Simultaneously alike and disimilar. He is someone you saw yourself building a life with. After nearly a year together, those are the kinds of thoughts you start to have about a partner.

"So, you regret it," you gather, "But do you still think I'm a distraction?"

"Of course, you are a distraction. I am in love with you. There is nothing more distracting than that."

You laugh, disbelieving. "You're in love with me but I'm distracting and you can't be with me? Why? Because you love racing more?"

"I was scared. I was stupid. I am stupid. I am."

"Self deprecation won't do you any favors. But, yeah, you are stupid. You're not making any sense."

"I was scared. You were everything I could think of. I thought I could not find a balance between you and racing. But without you, it is even worse. I want you as a distraction. I know that because I have lost you.”

“You haven’t,” you say before your brain even knows what you’re doing. “Not entirely, yet. Maybe… You’re not allowed to do this again. Ever.”

And you’re crying. Of course.

Carlos is at your side in record time, kneeling in front of you, taking immediate advantage of the crack in your defenses. “Never.”

“You can’t do shit like this. You can’t push me aside like I don’t matter. You can’t call me a distraction.”

“You are a distraction. In the best way.”

Unimpressed and wiping your tears, you say, “Wow. You’re such a poet.”

Carlos laughs thickly. “I love you.”

“Ugh, fuck off.”

You’re still wiping at your face. You didn’t cry when Carlos called it quits, refused to let him have any sort of hold over you when he pushed you aside but now, you’re crying. It’s in relief but you still feel your face getting hot from the embarrassment of it.

He knocks your hands aside to cup your cheeks. “You are the love of my life. I will do whatever it takes to fix what I broke.”

“S’not broken. Just bent. Or whatever the saying is. I don’t fucking care—just kiss me.”

Carlos’ “yes, ma’am” is muffled against your lips.

It’s only been three weeks (three and a half but who’s counting) since he last kissed you but it feels like an eternity.

It’s salty from your tears and wet, also from the tears but more from the way you let his tongue into your mouth after probably not enough time has passed. You don’t care. You just want him.

“I love you," you break the kiss to say. "Don't leave me."

"I won't."

"Say it back."

"I love you. I love you I love you I love you."

His words jumble between English and Spanish as he kisses down your body.

Your breath catches as he pulls your hips further down the cushion you're sat on. Stupid F1 driver muscles. You want to sink your teeth into his bicep, make him walk around with the bruise, a reminder of who he belongs to.

He slips his fingers into the waistband of your pants, looks up for permission. You lift your hips. You've missed what his big brown eyes look like when they're all dark with want.

He pulls your pants and underwear down and tosses them aside, tugging you even closer to the edge of the couch. Your legs part. He puts your knees on his shoulders then finally pushes his face between your thighs.

You let your head fall back as you sigh, probably sounding ridiculous but he's always been good at this.

He had you ride his face one time. He practically had to beg to get you to agree. There was a lot of him gripping onto you, arms wrapped around your thighs and hips to force you to stay in place. He'd kept you there until you couldn't stay upright or fight against his hold, coaxing multiple orgasms out of you with just his mouth.

Then, he'd fucked you until you came for a fifth time. (You tell a guy one time about how your last partner hadn't the patience to get more than one orgasm out of you, and he makes it his life's mission to get three or more every time you go at it. How terrible for you. Ha.)

He eats you out like a man starving, like he has something to prove. To be fair, he does but he's not going to be entirely back in your good graces just because he's helping you get off for the first time in three and a half weeks. This is just extra credit.

One of his hands finds yours. He tangles your fingers and holds your hand as he involves his free fingers in slipping past your entrance. You open up for him with obscene ease, legs falling apart even further.

He fucks you with a single finger slow, slow, slow while his tongue licks languidly at your clit.

"Carlos," you whine his name.

You don't need all the pleasure you already know he's more than capable of giving you. You just need to get off already.

"I will get you there, hermosa," he promises with a kiss to your inner thigh.

"Get there faster; I don't want my idiot brother thinking better of his insane plan and letting us out while you're nose-deep in my cunt."

Carlos huffs a laugh. You can feel the air against where you're wet. It makes you squirm.

Usually, Carlos would tell you to stay still and be patient but seems to think better of it this time. You would probably still do as he says, circumstance regardless, but he doesn't need to know that. He just presses his lips back to your pussy.

He sucks on the hardened little bundle of nerves at the joint of your labia just how he knows will make you go limp and needy. He pushes a second then a third finger into you, the stretch just that much more than you can manage with your own, smaller digits.

You could've gotten it with the neglected dildo that lives somewhere mostly forgotten in your closet. There was something that felt so final about bringing out the toy you haven't needed since that second date. Thankfully, you still don't need it. You should consider just pitching it, at this point.

You push your hand through Carlos' hair, brushing the ridiculously perfect locks off his forehead so you can watch his stupid, beautiful face as he goes down on you.

"You're so pretty like this, baby," you praise.

His dark eyes flicker up to you, exhaling against your exposed cunt and shifting his knees on the floor.

You're sure if he had a hand free, he'd be palming himself over his pants. He gets off on you getting off and praise goes straight to his dick. You've got this fantasy of making him come completely untouched but you might need to do actual research on that before it becomes a reality.

He sticks his tongue down with his fingers, lapping at your hole and spitting your wetness onto your clit just because it's hot. Like the way he's slobbering over you isn't enough to make the glide of his tongue over your clit smooth and delectable.

"Come on, baby. Don't tease. Not now."

Carlos makes this little displeased noise in the back on his throat.

Quickies aren't really in Carlos' sexual vocabulary. He occasionally likes it as rough and fast as the next dick-haver but he's more of a spread you open and make love to you for hours at a time kind of guy.

He took you to a secluded little cabana in Mallorca for a week during summer break specifically so you two could spend days on end doing nothing but loving on each other. Then, he took you to meet his family and you had to pretend like you hadn't spent the majority of the week prior with their golden child's dick or fingers or tongue inside of you.

Currently, you're just wanting to find relief without Lando or some other F1 driver walking in on you first.

"Carlos, baby—please."

Carlos likes when you play nice. When you're so desperate for it that your bossy exterior goes away. You tell yourself that you exploit this because your unending pride doesn't like the alternative that you really just are that desperate for it.

He finally starts to finger bang you properly. Combine that with the obscene slurping sounds he's making against your clit and the lack of action for nearly a month and no one could really blame you for not taking long to hit your high.

Heat curls and explodes in your gut and up your spine, back arching, lungs gasping, Carlos' name falling from your mouth as your thighs try to close around his head. He gets his elbows up to hold your legs open. His fingers keep fucking you through your orgasm. He pulls his other hand free of your grip to massage your clit with his thumb, kissing your thighs, pubes, stomach.

He captures your lips in a kiss while you're still riding it out. It's intense and leg-shaking after so long without, emotion-driven, which is the best kind but not worth it after knowing what the fear of losing him is like. You can hardly kiss him back, face pulled in pleausre, moans spilling past your lips that Carlos swallows unburdened.

You tuck your face into his shoulder as he drags it out just to the precipice of overstimulation. You tug him into you, arms around his shoulders, fingers tugging the hair at the base of his skull. He lets his fingers rest inside of you, rests that thumb against your clit so he can hold you back with one arm, at least.

You just breathe for a moment, composing yourself where he can't see your face. The worst may be over but the level of trust you'd built over months together would not be so easily reinstated. He'd have to work hard for that, much harder than a sinlge mind-blowing orgasm.

"Don't leave me," you say in a whisper. "You can't, okay?"

"I won't."

"Promise."

"I promise I will not leave you again. I am the most dumb man if I lose you another time. I will deserve it, then."

"Be smart, then. Like I know you have the capacity to be."

Carlos pulls his fingers out. He catches your shiver, still wrapped up in his one arm. He kisses your cheek before finding something to clean his hands with. You've pulled your pants back on when he's finished.

"Likelihood someone heard us?" you prompt.

"Heard you, you mean?"

You kick at him as he comes back over to you. "Watch it."

He tucks you against his side once he's sat. "Scale?"

"One to a hundred."

"90, at least."

You smack his chest. "Dick."

"You are very loud, mi amor. You talk so much, and you make such pretty noises."

"Don't insult me immediately after I've forgiven you."

You've not drawn away from him at all. In fact, you've tucked your feet up on the couch to curl into him fully.

Carlos knows this. He presses a kiss to your temple.

"I love you. I am sorry I am so stupid."

"I guess I've just got to have enough brains and beauty for the both of us."

"You have always."

You hide your smile in his chest. He holds your thigh when you put your legs across his lap. Now you've got him back, you want to be as close as physically possible. Whoever first said they want to be inside their partner's skin really gets it.

George Russell ends up getting sent to let you two out. Evidently, your brother fled the scene of the crime once the yacht returned to port in the early hours of the morning. He dumped the chore of opening Pandora's box on an innocnet bystander.

"I am so sorry—"

"Oh, clever," you say when you spot the poor Brit, "He sends an uninvolved party to let me out like I couldn't track him anywhere in the world. I've his trainer's phone number and Jon likes me more than him. I am going to beat his skinny little muppet ass. When I find him—"

You trip over the tangle of chairs that had been used to barricade the bedroom door from the outside.

Carlos catches your elbow.

"Amor, it is late," he says. "Sleep, first, hm?"

You relax into his hold a bit, a silent concession. It'll be easier to murder your little brother after a good night's sleep, anyway.

"So, are you two...?" George trails off.

You cut him a glare.

"Nothing. Never mind. Apologies."

He speeds around the two of you and off the boat.

"The 2019 rookies are all terrified of you."

"Good."

Carlos laughs. "I am excited to see what Alex is like with you next year."

You smile.

Next year, you'll still be working with Carlos. It'll be at a different team, a midfielder at best but at least Carlos will still be on the grid. He'll still find increasingly laughable excuses to be in engineering just to see you. He'll still come home to you, the same that you'll come home to him.

A future with Carlos is still in the cards. He'll be damned if he messes it up again, you know that much.

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garuda4321 · 12 hours ago

Text

Don’t worry, I’ve been told I’ll get advanced notice if the world is ending from my buddy in Poland. I’ll make sure to keep you all posted on that. Of course, he also had an interesting thing to tell me, which I will quote because I think a lot of folks need to hear this. However, saving that for a little bit later because I feel like folks could use a bit of a motivational speech (I gave my first one today focused on hope, and boy do we need it).

Here goes.

I want to start by reminding people that it’s ok to feel. Whether that’s anger, sadness, hope, happiness, or whatever else you’re feeling, it is ok to feel them. Emotions should not be suppressed. I work very hard to ensure that I am a part of a community that is not only safe, but somewhere I can call home. I am always willing to invite more people into my home, especially in times of need as feeling safe is something everyone deserves.

I know that when faced with outcomes such as these, it is considerably easier to live with a victory than a loss. This is why this I am speaking about hope, having hope. I understand that not everyone has hope right now. If you do have it, please try to share some of that hope with those that do not have it. If you do not have it, hopefully you can find some in this reblog.

I am fairly certain that everyone has had the experience when something doesn’t go their way. In the realm of Ninja (the obstacle course racing variety), this is rampant. Perhaps we fell on the first obstacle of a course, or perhaps we missed qualifying for finals by mere seconds. When this happens, we have two choices. We can either stay down and let the negativity eat away at us, or we can get back up and keep training and trying until we reach our goal.

Unfortunately, we can only do that during training. On a course, when we fail obstacle one, that’s it, we don’t get a second chance. We don’t have that choice to stay down or get back up as we can’t change the outcome. As depressing as that sounds, it’s true.

You can’t change what happened and you don’t get the choice to “get up and try it again”. But we don’t have to sit and cry, complain, or hide from it either. We don’t have to give up.

Right now, there are lots of us that are down. We have communities that we feel safe and welcome in to support us when we need them. Together, as we refuse to give up, we can do each and every thing to help better our communities. It may not be a large difference, but a difference is a difference, and a difference matters! We can leave a smile, a compliment, or even a positive message behind because if someone is having a rough day, those small actions can make a large difference for them.

I encourage you to try to bridge outside of your comfort zone and meet new people, join new communities and try to spread some positivity in the world. I did so earlier today by giving a very similar speech to this one and again now by posting an abbreviated version of it. Do your best to make a difference with all people, no matter who they are, what they look like, or what they stand for. Because we will overcome whatever is thrown our way together, and by helping those that are struggling to overcome their own obstacles. We will believe and we will have faith. We may not know who or what to believe in, but we all know that we can believe in each other.

To finish us off, that quote from my friend in Poland.

“Remember that life is a long distance race. In a few months, a lot will change. In a few years, whole world will look completely different. Don’t lose your energy and faith in being a good person. World will need good people.”

Choose to be kind, caring, compassionate, and empathetic.

I’m signing off for now, maybe I’ll return with the next one I end up giving.

#destiel confession meme #motivational speech #be kind #be a good person #stay strong #don’t give up #we will get through this #together.#late thought but maybe not as motivational as I wanted it to be #hope someone finds it motivational

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evertidings · 1 day ago

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— OCTOBER 2024.

accomplishments.

ahh i can’t believe it’s november (almost typed october there, great going me). it’s so wild to think we’re almost at the new year. i say that every time holiday season rolls around, but i genuinely feel it every year. so so crazy.

onto actual writing stuff: i hope you all enjoyed chapter eleven!! it’s been a month since it was released and i got such great reception from it, so thank you for reading and for saying such wonderful things to me. i spent the first bit of this month taking a break from writing (and recovering from the mental toll chapter eleven took on me), but i’m back at it now and i’m pleased to say that chapter twelve is in the works.

i'm currently writing one of two big branches in the book featuring, you guessed it, the ros. i know i've said this a lot lately, but we are truly very close to the romance lock and i want to make sure you have ample one-on-one time with the ro(s) of your choice before that happens. it's mostly for development reasons, but it definitely doesn't hurt that you get more time with your faves, right? thank me later.

to give you a little glimpse of chapter twelve, i'll vaguely say that Eliana's meeting will be a doozy. she's on a completely different level from Mirai and i already know i'm going to have so much fun writing that scene. i have plans to add tons of details and flavour text, and while it'll probably be more complicated than it needs to be (causing my future self to curse me out), i think it'll be really worth it. the intricacies of this game may be tedious at times, but i also think it's what makes it flourish (and loved) so i'm more than happy to do it. plus it gets me excited so hehe.

overall, the goal for this month involves writing. tons of writing. i don't have a date for chapter twelve yet since it's much too early, but i don't want to make you all wait ten months again, so i'm working my hardest! this chapter is going to be difficult to write (really though, when do i not struggle with writing?) but i'm really excited for it. Eliana's scene will truly be one for the books.

as always, take care of yourselves <3

stats.

chapter total: 9305 words

game total: ~520,780 words

#update #when twilight strikes #the midnight hours #interactive fiction #twine game

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mangled-by-disuse · 2 days ago

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obligatory "I'm British but"

BUT

this did not work when Remain tried it against Brexit. It did not work when Trump tried it against Biden, either (and they DID try it, before, uh, you know, the more direct approach). It will not work now.

And I'm sorry, but this is just a bad tactical move. Even if the election was rigged (and tbqh I absolutely believe there was some shady shit going on), the well was poisoned to hell and back in 2020. You are literally just setting yourself up for the accusation of doing exactly what you've spent four years castigating Trump supporters for.

I am not saying that because I think there shouldn't be a recount and an investigation. I think there should. But you need to realise that it is not going to happen.

I am so sorry. I am so fucking sorry that this is what it's come to, and I know what the cost of today is for vulnerable people. But you are not going to undo it with a petition.

And normally I would try to just step off and be like "I mean, I don't think it's going to work but anything's worth trying", but, again, the UK tried this. It has been 8 years since the petitions to recount and revote in the Brexit referendum, and it is STILL a stick that the right uses to beat progressives and leftists with: anti-democratic, sore losers, emotional, bullies. It has an impact on our national discourse nearly a decade later. It did not reduce the impact of Brexit or discourage the alt-right, it just prevented people from finding ways forwards because they were hanging all their hopes on hitting the Undo button.

It's not fair. It's not just, and it's not the way things should be. But reacting by trying to undo this - rather than by trying to rally and find ways to combat and manage the situation as it is - will make things worse.

(This is not at all a moral judgement. It's just... you know. we've been burned before.)

RECOUNT AND REVOTE!

For those in the US, there is a petition demanding a recount and revote as well as an investigation about the sudden change in support. Your voice matters and I encourage you to sign!

#since the post cuts off before my bit let me be clear in the tags: i think this is a TERRIBLE idea #i am not prepared to have a big fight about this btw #don't message me about it don't @ me about it. i am not going to try harder than that to change the minds of people in justified distress.#and i am not going to be drawn into an argument on this either. that won't do anyone any good.#to be crystal clear this is not a moral judgement or a character judgement of any kind. my objection is purely pragmatic.#but also it's from an outside perspective and i do understand that. just as i understand that people are desperate for ANY action rn.#do what you want. i've said my piece and that's all i'm going to say about it. but honestly just. please learn from our mistakes.

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fastandcarlos · 3 hours ago

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The Fan Meet : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: it's your one chance to meet and make an impression on max verstappen, but not even you could imagine what happened next

His smile was wide as Max glanced along the line of Red Bull fans who were waiting at the signing. It just so happened as he looked, you were at the front of the queue, lost in your own thoughts as you stepped forwards and were greeted by Yuki.

“It’s lovely to meet you,” Yuki smiled, taking the photo that you had in your hands that you had been given for them to sign. “I hope you’ve not been queueing for too long.”

“It was worth it,” you chuckled, struggling to stay composed, especially as you heard Daniel’s laughter coming from the seat next to Yuki. “I’m a huge fan of yours by the way, you’re one of the funniest drivers on the grid, especially all your radios to the team.”

“Some of them are pretty embarrassing looking back now.”

Your head shook, “it’s what makes you such a good character to have.”

Yuki smiled appreciatively back across at you, signing over his face on the picture. Once he had the lid back on his pen, he slid the picture to the next driver along. Your heart raced as you stood before Daniel, struggling to believe that it was really him stood before you.

Daniel quickly signed the photo before smiling across at you. “I hope you’re enjoying yourself, I’m sorry that you had to see Yuki before you got to see the real main event.”

“Really? Because I’ve not actually seen Max yet.”

Daniel’s eyes widened for a second at your joke before chuckling, impressed that you were able to give back to him as good as he gave out. He nodded as he applauded you, reaching out with his fist, giving you a fist bump in admiration of your joke.

“I’ll give you that one, although I’ll admit I’m a little bit hurt I’m not your favourite.”

“You’re my second favourite if that counts for anything,” you assured him. “I have to say though, I’m really hoping that we’ll see you in a seat next season.”

“You and me both,” he agreed, letting go of yet another of his signature chuckles. “Thank you for supporting me, hopefully I’ll be able to see you cheering me, and Max, on in a race soon.”

You hummed in agreement as you moved across yet again, glancing to your right where Max was sat, almost forgetting that Sergio was now before you. “Yet another signature for you to do.”

“I don’t mind it,” Sergio chuckled at your comment, signing your photo for you too.

You were unaware that your sarcasm hadn’t just reached Sergio, but the man sat beside him too. Max’s eyes flickered across to see who made the comment, smiling when he realised it was you, the one he had spotted earlier on stood at the front of the queue.

Unbeknownst to you, your conversation with Sergio wasn’t just between the two of you, with Max listening in too. His smile was wide as you gushed to Sergio about how big of a Red Bull fan you were, impressing them both with your knowledge.

“You guys don’t deserve the hate that you get,” you suddenly told Sergio.

“When you’re as talented as we are, you tend to be able to ignore what everyone else is saying.”

Your eyes lit up at Sergio’s response, it was clear how well the boys had all been trained, knowing the right answer to give to shut down most questions. As you went silent, Sergio signed your photo before signing it across for Max once you were there.

“I’m going to put you on the spot now, who’s your favourite driver?” Sergio asked, looking across at you expectantly, folding his arms across his chest.

You looked briefly at Max, noticing how his eyes slightly panicked, moving to look back at the fan in front of him. When you looked back at Sergio, you could only offer a weak smile, a smile that let him know that he most definitely not your favourite driver on the grid.

“You’re a close second,” you very quickly defended, “but I’ve got to say that the man next to you might just take the number one spot, only because he’s been at Red Bull for longer though.”

Sergio nodded, understanding where you were coming from. “I guess I’ll let you have that one, I’ve just got to stick around for longer and make sure that I catch him up, right?”

Your steps were nervous as you moved along, struggling to believe as you looked up that Max was the man before you, struggling to bring yourself to meet Max’s eyes.

Luckily for you, Max had a wide smile on his face too that immediately made you feel a lot more relaxed. Max signed over the Red Bull card that you had before leaning over the table, sitting himself closer to you.

“Thank you for coming to see us today,” Max chimed, making you feel at ease. His voice was softer than you imagined, although he’d probably spoken to hundreds of people already, he still managed to sound so enthusiastic.

As you relaxed, you allowed your eyes to meet Max’s. “Thanks for being such an awesome driver,” you responded, unaware of the way your comment made Max’s heart race.

“It’s easy being a good driver when we’ve got such great fans,” Max responded, unable to turn his eyes away from you. “We’ve got some great people around who are always cheering us on.”

As the conversation seemed to quickly came to a close, Max quickly thought of something else that he could ask you, not wanting to let you go just yet. You went to go and pick up the photo so that you could head off, but Max held onto it first, his grip firm so that you couldn’t slide it out from underneath his hand.

Your eyes narrowed on Max, looking in confusion as to why he wasn’t letting you go. “There’s a queue behind me,” you reminded Max, only for his shoulders to shrug. He wasn’t fussed about holding everyone else up, not when he wanted to carry on talking to you.

“They can wait,” Max replied, taking you by surprise with how much he didn’t care. “It’s important that we give you an experience to remember, not just say hi and goodbye again.”

“Well, I appreciate that,” you replied, your voice still full of nerves. “I’ve been to these things before and the driver never really gave me the time of day, I wondered why I bothered.”

He didn’t pay the same attention to every fan, but there was something about you that had him. Under the table, his leg was bouncing as he tried to stay calm, relieved that you couldn’t see how nervy Max was.

As Max continued to talk, you were disturbed by the feeling of staff standing closer towards you. You knew that you had exceeded your time, but Max still kept talking, not paying any attention to the warnings that the staff were sending him that he needed to cut things off.

Finally, as one of the senior staff members whispered into his ear, Max nodded. He turned the photo around and wrote on the back of it, handing it back to you once he was done. “Don’t look at this until you’re somewhere safe,” he carefully instructed.

“I can do that,” you smiled, placing the photo into the pocket. “Should I be worried about what it is that you’ve just done?”

“Not at all, I hope you’ll love it in fact,” Max chimed, waving goodbye to you as you walked away from the table.

You darted through the crowd of fans as you headed back outside, finding a spot where you could sit alone. You pulled the photo out of your pocket, turning it around to see what Max had written, unable to hide the smile on your face as you did so.

It was lovely to meet you, my fans are special, but you just had such a spark. I’ve attached my number, if you want to meet again, just the two of us, just give me a call. Max x

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

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lucedilunax · 2 days ago

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Written by a woman - L. Hughes

Songs masterlist

song: Written by a woman - Mae Muller

pairing: Luke Hughes x girlfriend!reader

summary: Moments in Luke and his girlfriend relationship that made them realised, they are made for each other

warning: NSFW, mentions of sex (nothing graphic), swear words

words: 1.3k

note: i had so much fun writing this! hope you're enjoy it as much as i do haha

masterlist

---

She and Luke met in Michigan. Both were students searching for fun and nothing more. She had been in terrible relationships and lost all her hope to find a right man, especially during her college years. Luke was scared to open his heart because every girl was using him to get into his brothers. They were two teenagers with trust issues, terrified of another disappointment in love.

One party changed everything. She opened herself for Luke and Luke felt that she’s not gonna go for his brothers. Casual conversation turned to dates and later to relationship. They were soulmates despite coming from different environments and not sharing much of common interests. Their love can be summed up as right person, right time.

So cool but so kind

With that look in your eye

When she laid eyes on Luke, she saw the spark in his eyes. He was stoic yet cheerful. She couldn’t keep her sign out of him. He wasn’t blind. He felt her piercing eyes on him and decided to approach her. Luke was talkative and flirty. He was telling her stories to impress her, but he didn’t know that she’s already gone in him.

Luke was respectful, he hasn’t pushed his luck with her. He was way different from other guys who made her feel uncomfortable the minute, they started to talk with her. She found Luke as a very intrigue person. She wanted to know more about him. She asked him the most random questions.

After couple minutes of their conversation, she started to tell him about herself. Earlier it was all about Luke but now, she was the center of attention. She was telling him about her origins, her major and her hobbies. She thought that she might bored him. He was a popular hockey player, and she was just an ordinary girl but when she saw the sparkles in his eyes, she fell in love.

She felt so safe telling him all the stories. Luke was grateful that someone was looking at him as a person and not athlete. They spent all night on talking. He asked for her number and the next day, he asked her out. They say eyes are mirror of the soul and their eyes were showing it. Both were obsessed in each other, and they could communicate with each other just by looking into eyes.

And you ain’t scared to cry, what a rare breed

She was growing up in household where men weren’t crying. They couldn’t show their weak side. That’s why she always thought that women can cry. All her exes also never sheer a tear in front of her. She believed that they can’t show proper emotions.

For her, crying was like a release. When she was felt weak, mad, panicked or tired, she was bawling her eyes. It was helping her to settle her emotions down. She always wondered what men are doing to calm down.

When Luke picked up a shoulder injury and told her about it, he cried in front of her. For the first time, she saw a man crying. She was confused, she didn’t have a clue what to do. She froze in spot when this happened. She wanted to cheer him up, but she didn’t know what to do.

She asked him what to do and Luke told her that he just needed to release his emotions. He felt comfortable to do it next to her. She explained him why she hasn’t reacted and apologized but he laughed. He promised her that it’s normal and he’s doing this a lot of times. In that moment, she knew, he’s the one.

Your shoulders, your hands, oh you must be a man

Written by a woman

Luke was lanky. Despite being an athlete, he wasn’t muscular. This changed when he joined New Jersey Devils. He started going more and more on the gym. His shoulders and arms became wider and gained more muscles. She loved him previously but now; she loved him even more. She loved dragging her nails down his biceps.

The thing she adored the most in Luke were his hands. They were so big compared to her. His fingers were insanely long. He knew about her kink on his hands and he used it to his advantage. He always had his hand on her. When they were on a walk, he held his big hand on her lower back or were holding hands. In a car, he always placed his hand on her thigh.

Their sex life was superior. She adored when he was fucking her, and she could mark his strong shoulders, later admiring the marks on his back. He loved to make her cum just by his fingers. With her, he learned that he has a thing for choking. When he was seeing his long fingers on her throat, he was going insane.

You can be rough

But it’s never too much

She trusted Luke, especially in the bedroom. He was caring and loving while they had sex. Although, they had unwritten rule that if he’s angry, he can use her. He was always giving her heads up so she wouldn’t be surprised. The minute he stepped back into their apartment, he was all over her.

She loved this side of him. She knew Luke would never hurt her, so she was letting him to have his way with her. Most of the times, he was deepthroating her and fucking in doggy style. When she felt freaky, she was acting like a brat just to see how it’s gonna end up for her. Luke wasn’t into punishment but when she was getting on his nerves, he would spank her.

After he was done with her, his priority was aftercare. He knew how important it is to show her love and respect, after he fucked her like a whore. He was always helping her in the shower and feed her so she could get back in strength. Later, he was cuddling her in their bed and whispering sweet words thanking her for this.

All day, all night

You’re on my mind

Since she and Luke started dating, they’ve been all the thinking about each other. Back in Michigan, when the lectures were boring, they’ve been daydreaming about what another one is currently doing. He was bad texter but on her message, he was responding immediately saying that he was about to call her.

When they were forced to live for a year in different states, they had been all the time thinking about each other. She was wondering how’s Luke doing in new environment, how his life looks like and how does he feels living with his brother. He was reasoning about her classes and exams, how she’s feeling being there by herself and if she’s still wearing his clothes all day.

After her graduation, she finally moved to New Jersey, and they rented an apartment. Living together hasn’t stopped them about thinking about each other. If she was working, Luke was thinking what’s going through her head. When he was watching hockey games, she was wondering which part of the match he’s currently analyzing.

All their thoughts were spiraling about each other. She could never get bored of thinking about Luke and Luke could never get bored of thinking about her.

You got me down bad, oh you must be a man

Written by a woman

She knew she fell hard for her when all her future was going around his career. When Luke went to New Jersey, she wanted to go with him. How much he loved this idea, he knew that her education is more important. He was the one to force her to graduate university because she was ready to pack her whole life and go after him.

When she finally ended up college, she moved to New Jersey. She had better work options in Michigan, but she wanted to be closer to him. Luke felt bad that she’s sacrificing her career for him but at the same time, he was grateful to have her by his side. They were made for each other.

Luke knew she’s the one and despite their young age, he decided to propose to her. He saw a future with her and that’s all what matter for them.

---

thank you for reading💕

#luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes fanfiction #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes oneshot #nhl #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #new jersey devils #v' work

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therandompagesblog · 2 days ago

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SKZ Mate Chapter 19

Trigger Warnings: insecurity, angst, alcohol consumption

The essence in the room turned sour as the stories unfolded. They felt uncomfortable hearing their head alpha's childhood. It felt too private and Hyunjin aired it out to threaten Chan into staying, but no one said anything as they watched Chan leave the room. Chan needed to be alone to process as did they all, but it now left the newly presented alpha in charge. Jeongin wasn't in no way prepared to step up so quickly but he had to. He refused to watch the wolves fall apart so he had to create an order quickly. He had sent Minho and Felix to the kitchen to cook them a light dinner while Changbin was sent to fix Felix's nest and if his nest wasn't fixed by the end of the day they were sharing rooms until it was fixed. Jeongin kept Jisung close to the omega considering he had the strongest bond with her and hoped he could comfort her or at least make her feel better while Jeongin went round the house checking on the wolves. By the time he came back, he found the beta lying on the omega's lap with his eyes closed as she comforted him, causing Jeongin to kick the beta. He couldn't believe Jisung, he was supposed to look after her, not the other way around, but Y/N didn't mind. She was so lost in thought as she processed everything from Chan to his uncle to Hyunjin. It was a lot but one thing she kept going back to was the inevitable war with Hongjoong. "Jisung, I need a bit of paper and a pen," Y/N whispered trying to push the heavy beta off of her. "What why?"Jisung asked as he got up but she waved her hand, asking him to be quick. As soon as Y/N had a couple of sheets of paper she wrote down everything she could remember of Hongjoong's pack that may help them. She wrote down everything from their skills to possible weaknesses. She even wrote down the spiritual barrier that was guarded by werewolf spirits.

Jisung and Jeongin had no idea what she was writing but watched her in anticipation as she scribbled all over the sheets of paper circling different things. Every so often the two wolves would look up at each other with a frown before watching her. "Here. It's a list of possible weaknesses in case he comes, which he will. I don't know how much of this is a weakness but this is all I know. Hyunjin may know more but for now, we can think of options while Chan processes. I don't want Chan to act on impulse." Y/N answered as she looked at the young alpha who was a few days older than her. "Agreed. It is a thought we need to be aware of. We don't know how much Hongjoong has prepared or started but we need all the info! Thank you, Y/N." Jeongin said gratefully with a smile even though he was feeling dread seep through his veins. He was in no way prepared. "The main problem is going to be the witch coven. Hongjoong has ties with witches who use dark magic, but his whole entire domain is cast with a dark aura. What, I don't know, but the spiritual barrier is real. They're evil spirits trapped in the lining around the house is in a circle. Now we could find someone to break the circle or we wait it out until it comes down but that's twice a year." Y/N stressed. Jeongin reached out and squeezed Y/N's shoulder reassuringly before kissing her forehead. He didn't want her to worry but he will make a plan, but he needed everyone in their right frame of mind first. "Listen to me, whatever happens, we will get through this," Jeongin promised as he looked at her worried face. Y/N wanted to believe him but she was concerned, that there were too many risks. "I'm going to go and see if Chan is alright. He needs me." Y/N stated as she got up, heading towards the back door to see Chan sat on the decking look out at the woods.

Y/N could see from his position that he was deep in his thoughts. It broke her heart as she looked at him. He looked lost and she wanted to make it better. "Chan?" Y/N called out, hoping not to startle him but he hadn't heard her so she slowly crept forward before she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Chan jumped when he felt someone touch him, but relaxed when he smelt her. Her scent calming him. "Channie?!" Y/N cooed as she nuzzled him with her head before placing a kiss on his shoulder. He was so tense under her that hurt her heart. She didn't like this side of him and wanted to make it better. "Channie. Tell me what to do. How do I make it better?" Y/N whispered as she kissed his shoulder. Chan shook his head and said nothing. There was nothing she could do right now. "Baby, just give me some space for a little while alright? I promise I'll come back in." Chan answered, his voice came out slightly cold, but he wanted to sound comforting. "Hey! I love you, baby. There is no doubt about it and I know I haven't said it yet, but I planned to. I wanted to make it special but I do love you alright. I just need a few minutes, baby, okay? I never wanted you to hear that about me." "Channie, it's okay! I'll give you some space. Take all the time you need and let me know when you need me." Y/N assured as she rubbed his shoulders one last time. "Thank you, baby. I'll come in soon!" Chan squeezed her hand giving it a quick kiss as he watched her walk back into the house. Chan didn't want her to push her away but he also didn't want her to see him so vulnerable. He didn't want to dig up old memories he healed from. He didn't want her to think of him as a disgrace. He wanted to be perfect for her. He wanted to be her protector. He needed to get his shit together but he needed a moment to himself.

Eventually, Chan came back into the house to find everyone asleep but Hyunjin who was sitting in the kitchen with a glass of whisky in his hand. He heard the alpha come in so he slid the other glass over towards him not saying a word. Chan walked over and took the glass, rolling it around in his hand before knocking it back. "You make it difficult to trust you, you know," Chan stated as he poured another drink. Hyunjin scoffed at his words and he accepted them. "I know that," Hyunjin answered. "We have to come to an agreement-" "No. No, we do not. She is your soul mate. She always has been, as she is the rest of the pack. I will always be there for her, even when she doesn't want me." Hyunjin answered, his eyes fixating on the dying plant on the island table. "That is not what I meant, Hyunjin. I know you have history and I won't take that away from you. What I meant is you need to give me room to trust you, but I can't throw you out, not now." Chan stated, his words turning colder. Hyunjin tried to look into his thoughts but noticed he was quiet, purposely hiding them from him. "No you can't. You need me to fight against Hongjoong and you need me to keep her." Hyunjin chuckled as he scrunched up his nose before pointing to him with the glass held tightly in his hand. "I don't care whether you like me or trust me, what I do care about is Y/N and the wolves." "How many more secrets do you have left? Huh? You told me you were cursed but you never meant you were nearly cursed into a lycan." Chan whispered as he slammed the glass down. "I failed my love that is a fact, but I will make it right." Hyunjin admitted but Chan did not believe him for a second. It didn't make any sense to why he would abandon her or not even mention her. "Did she know you loved her? She didn't because you were a cruel alpha." Chan spat. "Harsh, yes. Cruel no. I never forced her to do anything." Hyunjin stated before he got up to leave the room." She was the one who cracked my heart. But don't worry Christopher. The more you worry the weaker you become. You're a head alpha. So act like one."

Taglist for the iconic readers:

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