#you need to leave him tf alone

[the-nightingale-not-the-lark]

I miss f1 during breaks but I NEED this season to be over already.

Like, look at my guy, he looks so done already. FIRST DAY and some idiot moron of a "reporter" asked him about "pushing Henry around" and if he even enjoyed being in f1.

You don't like him WE GET IT. So LEAVE HIM ALONE. I can't think of an f1 figure who has been subjected to so much hatred for just breathing.

I was excited for cota and him showing up in a cowboy hat again like last year. But last year AM actually cared about him, did things to protect him, released content w Seb to humanise him.

This year they can't even bring themselves to delete the disgusting comments harassing him, won't close their comments sections when he's being wished harm.

Every post is full of ill wishes towards him and what do they do? Make team content with Felipe, the guy used as an excuse by these morons to abuse Lance further.

I wish he was an asshole entitled rude "imma get you fired" nepo baby so he'd actually push back, but the worst he's done is have a breakdown on camera and be introverted.

God I hate f1 so much at times.

At least I hope this weekend treats him nice 😮‍💨

[angelofthe2000s]

Blah blah blah Buffy’s so mean to Spike blah blah. Have you considered that he deserves it? That he likes it, even?

[mrsoharaa]

I will not….will NOTTTT, be swept into the deep deeeep depths of Sukuna hell. I REFUSEEEE.

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

Drea starts a book club when????

OMG NEOWWWW

[lucy-the-demon]

Tom nook and Timmy and Tommy

I tried

The gremlin tanuki children.

I love them

I don't love or hate Tom nook. We're just mutuals I guess

[suntoru]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ “YOU… CAN’T WALK?” *ੈ✩‧₊˚

summary: after a night of… suspicious activities, you find that your body is rendered useless!! how does your boyfriend react??

feat. diluc ragnvindr, kaeya alberich, childe, kazuha kaedehara, scaramouche, xiao, ayato, al-haitham, kaveh

a/n: blue balled </3

warnings: heavily suggestive however no explicit smut, minors get tf out /lh <33, innuendos, fluff, mentions of “girlie” in childe’s, basically after aftercare

─ ✰ DILUC is highkey embarrassed about not being able to resist his urges, so much so that you’re in pain because of him. he apologizes profusely and is so guilty that he hurt you 😭😭 you’ll have to reassure him that you’re alright, but that you just need some extra help getting around today or for the next week. he’ll be your majestic horse for as long as you need him to. need to go to the bathroom? he’ll carry you to and from, waiting for you to be done outside of the door. hungry? he’s already got adelinde cooking something up for you. thirsty? he just bought thirty different flavours of herbal tea. he treats all the love bites he’s given you and iced the bruises on your legs, looking up for your reaction each time. a friend of yours asked why your legs were so shaky and you couldn’t walk, and his face exploded into a bright shade of red, making it obvious that your… nighttime activities were the cause.

─ ✰ KAEYA’S your knight in shining armour, although sometimes you may want to smack his head. oh, he’ll help you alright, but at the cost of your dignity. he’s carrying you bridal-style in his arms, which may sound wholesome, but the things he’s whispering in your ear are clearly not. turning bright red, you nuzzle your head further in his chest to prevent him from looking at you. cute. he chuckles at your reaction, pressing a soft kiss to your head before gently placing you in the bath. the warm water helps your muscles relax more, easing up the tension from your legs. you sigh in relief, sinking further into the bathtub as he scrubs the soap out of your hair. you shiver when he blows over your hickeys, deliberately trying to rile you up. this time, you won’t give him what he wants, though. you flip over on your side, turning away from him with what little self-respect you have left. but it all leaves your body when he leans in closer. “easy there princess, being a brat is what got you here in the first place.”

─ ✰ CHILDE, quite like his name suggests, is a literal child. you thought kaeya was bad? well, this giant man baby wants you to flaunt off your hickeys and bruises to the whole world, he wants everyone to know you’re his and his alone. his teasing is x10000 times stronger than normal, he has no basic decency 💀💀 will make you ask for his help to inflate his ego, at this point just get up and leave </3 when you try to angrily glare at him, it comes off as more of a sad pout, so he caves and scoops you up in his arms like a kid. “aww, is my favourite baby coochie coo girlie okay? don’t worry, daddy’s here-” please smack the living shit out of him, if you don’t he’ll continue to baby and coo at you for the rest of the day. don’t even try to complain to him about the marks, he’ll just add more until he’s satisfied 😬 oh, and one last piece of advice? don’t let him see you in his shirt unless you’re looking to get wrecked (again), he’ll go absolutely feral.

─ ✰ KAZUHA, let’s be real, would be so soft and loving that you wouldn’t have any bruises and i stand this with my life 😤 but for the purpose of the plot, let’s pretend he did. out of everyone, he’s the most delicate with you. he’s so gentle and careful carrying you like you could break at any moment, whispering one of his poems quietly and humming underneath his breath. if you’re hungry, he makes his specialty dish, spoon feeds you everything, even tipping the water cup up so you can drink from it. he gives you so much love and reassurance it makes your heart absolutely melt 🥺🥺 he kisses each mark he made on your body, whispering “beautiful” each time :,) a tear slips by your eye, never has anyone treated you with such care before him. he wipes it away and pulls you close, making sure not to hurt you accidentally, and utters endless sweet nothings. in his eyes, you are a perfect creation, and he can’t thank the heavens enough that you are his. his muse, his love, forever <3.

─ ✰ SCARAMOUCHE, this bitch, thinks you’re being dramatic when you say in a scratchy voice that you can’t walk. he tells you to just get over it, and when you get pissed and try to walk away from him, your legs fail you and you brace yourself for the impact, but it never comes. his arms are hooked above yours, effectively saving you from crashing down and causing further damage. you angrily yank your arm back, telling him to leave, but he only pulls you up closer into his arms. he wraps your legs around his hips as he holds your waist, cursing something under his breath. he places you onto the couch as you turn away from him in a huff. “are you just going to ignore me?” silence. “fine. be like that then.” silence again. “…i’m …sorry. i didn’t mean it.” you turn back around, and he’s squatting on the ground with his head twisted so you can’t see his face. he moves away quickly, flustered by your gaze, and leaves the room for a minute. when he comes back, he’s holding some warm tea for your throat. needless to say, he pampers you for the rest of the day.

─ ✰ XIAO thinks you’re seriously ill when you almost tumble out of bed and land smack dab on the floor. you’ll have to explain to him why your legs aren’t exactly working, and when he does… flustered beyond relief. when he takes a closer look at you, he notices your body is full of love marks and bruises around your thighs. in the moment, he may have forgotten how fragile humans could be. he thinks he’s broken you, and he’s genuinely concerned for you 💀 you might have to direct him on how to help you, but once he gets the hang of it, he’ll do the best he can. unlike how he wields his spear, he’s delicate and graceful. he might be rough around the edges, but he’s trying, and you don’t have the heart to tell him that you don’t need him to carry you for the rest of your life, not when he cocks his head and looks at you questioningly when you don’t climb on his back. as an apology for temporarily immobilizing you, he brings you a qingxing flower and shares his almond tofu with you. honestly, what more could you ask for 😻?

─ ✰ AYATO is actual husband material <33 he’s already prepared for this for some reason 🤨 as soon as you wake up, any punishments you may have received have been treated and wrapped up carefully. a fresh pitcher of water is there for you, and by the looks of it, a bath is running. but none of it interests you if ayato isn’t there with you. carefully, with the help of thoma, you are able to wobble to the room ayato is in, concentrated on his paperwork. hobbling towards him, he pushes his chair back so you can sit on his lap. pressing a kiss to your cheek, he brushes the hair out of your face, “darling, you should be resting. i ran a bath for you, is everything okay? are you sore anywhere?” “can you come join me? please?” you beg, putting on the cutest pout you can manage. “if you can wait ten minutes until i’m done.” internally, you sigh, but you patiently sit on his lap and wait until he’s finished. ah, but don’t worry, the reward is definitely worth it. he kneads through all the sore spots, applies all your skincare, and changes your clothes. later, you do matching face masks 💗

─ ✰ AL-HAITHAM was probably prepared for this, he read hundreds of books about human reproduction 💀 he notes all the side effects you seem to have: a scratchy throat, unstable legs, exhaustion… he saves it for the next time you have… physical activities. he remembers an article he read on how to take care of your significant other after intercourse, and follows that. he makes homemade soup to soothe your throat, which he watches over you as you drink. he also forces you to take naps, he’ll read “the control politicians have over our daily lives” just to make you fall asleep. he’ll get your groceries, take out your trash, and do your work so you can focus on relaxing, all with a stoic face. if anyone asks him where you are, he’ll just give an obvious lie with a straight face 💀💀 “y/n is out collecting a census right now.” “but they told me they were sick?” normally his lies are flawless, but when it’s about you… his mind doesn’t function properly. but if you absolutely need to get somewhere, you’re going to have to ask him. last time, he locked kaveh out of the dorm for 48 hours for helping you get a book from the library because he fell asleep 💀

─ ✰ KAVEH’S face is the first thing you see when you wake up. jumpscare warning sir he’s hovering over you, observing your face. immediately after he sees that you are awake comes the barrage of questions. “my love, are you all right? i wasn’t too rough, was i?” he’s such a simp i could never see him being rough he dramatically gasps when he sees your shaky legs, pretending to be shocked, but he’s slightly happy that this means you’ll have to cling onto him for the whole day. but oh my, both of you still have work!! whatever shall you do? it seems like the only solution is for him to take you everywhere… he proudly parades you around the akademiya, much to the embarrassment of you. but there’s nothing you can really do, not when you can’t run away, so you bury your head in his back to avoid the judging gazes of the other scholars. kaveh shoots a smug grin to an uncaring al haitham, who probably knows and heard everything from last night💀💀

©hawkssimpsblog 2023. do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works on any platform.

[the-nightingale-not-the-lark]

And you poke that bear

till the claws come out

and you have something

to wrap your noose around.

Lance has never been more Folklore coded. I need to give him a hug.

[mentally-gone002]

worried on the floor

summary: spencer passes out in a moment of panic after a case that put him on edge when his girlfriend isn’t home at her usual time. 

warnings: probably some inaccuracies because i’m a child and don’t know what tf i’m talking abt

a/n: got bored and had time between writing a script so here yall go, eat up you hungry bitches💜

————————————————————————

apartment 23 had stood alone and dark ever since y/n had left for work. she usually left at the same time as spencer but he was away working a case. 

when spencer was home and the workday ended y/n was always the first one home, always there to greet him with a kiss at the door. 

today that was different. 

spencer felt something was off when he got through the door. his head was already full of the days previous case, which was filled with solving the kidnappings and murders of young women in wisconsin. they were all y/n’s age, which is what made him anxious. 

“y/n?” he still called out, “are you home?” the question floated in the air, unanswered. 

spencer toed off his shoes and put them on the mat right where they always sat beside hers. 

her shoes were missing. 

the slow acceleration of spencer’s heartbeat made his hands sweat with anxiety during his slow advance further into his apartment. 

why wasn’t she home? 

he flipped on the lights in the kitchen and the living room. everything was as they had left it that morning. he breathed shakily with the worry in his chest growing by the second. 

what if something happened to her.

is she okay?

spencer’s hands were shaking but he didn’t notice until he was pulling out the phone in his pocket to dial her number. the line rang and rang with no answer. only your voicemail. 

“hey, i can’t answer now ‘cause i’m probably doing something pretty amazing. leave your message at the beep and i’ll get back to you!” 

he tried again but it went to voicemail, again. he anxiously snapped his phone shut but kept it in his hands as he stood still in the middle of the apartment between the kitchen and the living room. 

spencer felt himself starting to panic; breath quickening and shallow, his heartbeat drumming in his ears at a pace that would be concerning to anyone monitoring it. he felt light headed from not getting enough oxygen, but he pushed the feeling down by worrying about her. that only caused his head to be filled with that swimming feeling. 

he needed to know she was okay. 

he needed to know she was coming home. 

the last thing he remembered was staring at his phone, flipping it open almost in slow motion and trying to dial morgan’s number but his fingers wouldn’t press the buttons. 

he blinked and it went dark.

y/n got home fifteen minutes later than usual. she noticed spencer’s car outside and excitedly walked up to the second story. she noticed two missed calls from him on her way up. 

when she reached the second floor she saw the soft orange hew of the lights on inside from under the door before she noticed the door wasn’t closed all the way. 

a million thoughts raced through her mind as she moved in slow motion to push the door open, looking for anything that would signal at a break in. that would be the only explanation for the door not being closed and locked; spencer was a stickler for locking the doors since he knew what monsters were out there. 

there was nothing that told her there was someone inside, but the image of spencer’s body laying on the floor made her scream. 

“spencer?” she fell to the floor right above him, a hand shakily touching his face. “spencer?” she kept calling his name but he wasn’t waking up. “baby, i need you to open your eyes! please open your eyes!” her fingers pressed into the side of his neck, feeling for a heartbeat that had her relieved to feel.

she kept trying to wake him, using all of the things she knew for a situation like this. 

she moved his body so that he was flat on his back and then grabbed his shoulders, jostling them. 

“spencer!” y/n felt her eyes burn with tears as she kept trying to wake him. “spencer, wake up! please…” she dropped her head onto the center of his chest just before sobs wracked her body. her hands squeezed the tops of his shoulders so tight that he would definitely have marks there for a day or two. she kept on moving his shoulders, lightly now.

spencer squeezed his eyes closed, breathing in with a groan. he felt a weight on his chest, not something he was imagining but a physical weight. he shifted himself on the floor. 

“spence?” he heard y/n whisper. “oh, thank god.” she sighed, sitting up to wipe tears that stained her face with one hand while the other cupped his face. 

he furrowed his brows and sat up, one arm propping him up. “are you okay?” he asked groggily, studying her face with worried eyes. “what happened?” 

she shook her head. “i came home and you were unconscious. i was so scared, spencer.” she whimpered. 

spencer frowned, pulling her into him. he was ignoring the pain in his head. “hey, everything’s alright. i’m okay.” he whispered, moving his hands to cup her face and make her look at him. “y/n, i’m okay.” 

she nodded in his hands. “i know, i know.” y/n blinked hard and breathed slow. “i’ve never known you to just… pass out. have you been taking care of yourself? you were out working on that case for a while.”

he nodded, smiling the best he could at her. “yeah, i have. i just stressed myself out, that’s all.” 

“why? what was stressing you out?” she wondered. 

spencer looked away at how they were seated in the floor. “i thought someone like our last unsub got you because you weren’t home before me.” he sighed with closed eyes. 

y/n frowned. “no one got me.” she assured.

“i’m so thankful for that.” he sighed, putting his arms around her shoulders to hide his face in her neck. “so thankful.” 

y/n put her arms around his back in return, holding onto him tight just to tell him she really was there. “i’m glad you’re okay, spencer.” she told him. 

he nodded and closed his eyes to better revel in the feeling of having her this close. 

[softie00]

“So, what did you cook up in the labs this time of night, good sir?” “Probably something that you were buying, good madam.” 

“No wonder kimbap is so addictive.”

I love how they had just met yet they both are similiar like yesss this is my type of man for sure 😭 love me some good banter which you always never fail to write in ur fics!!

But I loved how you explored the negative sides to working, even if its always something you had dreamed of. The slow reality check kinda hits, Poor seonghwa thought his dream is here but all he's been been feeling was overwhelmed, with the work, the people and the comments he received.

It's not always rainbows for sure. I'm so happy that reader would always be there and do those little things for him even through his struggles.

"He could imagine you swaying to whatever new release you had discovered, humming along to mask that you did not know the lyrics, cooking away. That was his guiding star." this was everything!!!!

I'm also glad reader was extremely understanding with him and didn't try to cross any boundaries or throw her own opinions on to him. She let him speak, make him felt heard and understood.

"The old married couple energy" God that was so cute!! Even as i read these two I can definitely sense that energy throughout ❣❣

Feels Like Home (part 1)

(part 2)

pairing: seonghwa x fem!reader genre: fluff, slight angst, doctor!seonghwa, graphic designer!reader, slice of life summary: What is home? Perplexed by this notion, you spent many years looking for your own answer, moving and running from your past. Your new neighbour, Park Seonghwa, might just be the key to discovery. wordcount: 5.7k warnings: language, mentions of food, mentions of the pandemic, anxiety, mention of past abusive relationships a/n: thank you all so much for the love <3 beyond grateful for you, and am inspired by you! Here is a work on the longer side, so I will be splitting it into two parts, stay tuned~

You lucked out. After having spent over two years migrating from one disastrous excuse for an apartment, to another, you finally felt like you could relax. No more leaks, no more creepy crawlies threatening to fall right on your face in the middle of the night… you shuddered at the memory; no more landlords that enjoyed screaming down the phone at you… you could finally achieve your domestic dreams and lounge at home to your heart’s content.

The apartment itself was on the more ‘compact’ side, located on the ninth floor of a complex in a quiet residential area. The living room, dining room and kitchen were combined, but not overwhelmingly so – everything still had its own area, and in no time did you set up your rather wild collection of plans by the sliding windows. Since the building was fairly new, you did not need to invest much in any repainting or cleaning of the apartment, and by the grace of the landlady who took a liking to you, the deposit was equally reasonable. It was almost worth it going through all the terrors after university, just to appreciate this place.

This was the place that made you understand why some people never wanted to leave their house or area – to be frank, you were turning into one of them. Only leaving on the days you had to, your hybrid work as a graphic and brand designer was becoming better and better, and finally you managed to get rid of the nickname your colleagues gave to you: “true businessman”. Your old place had gotten you used to spending some nights in the office common room, just to avoid the seedy neighbourhood, cracking walls and windows that were threatening to fall out at any second.

Really, it was heaven and earth. What was another very welcome change was the difference in neighbours. Whilst before there was that one elderly couple down the street that ran a tteokbokki stall, sure, they couldn’t exactly make you feel continuously welcome and safe, not when you quite literally had a loan shark knock on your door that one time, and then go “oops sorry wrong address, keep your money in a bank, kid”. Since that day you became the most loyal out of your friends to filling out taxes and budgeting.

In this apartment complex, there was the receptionist downstairs who, without fail, would give you the most reassuring nod humanly possible and then with a rough clearing of the throat, would go back to solving puzzles in the newspaper he subscribed to. There also was the family of four, man and wife and their boy and girl, who lived right down the corridor from you (and who you did hear on occasion, but this was nothing) – total sweethearts, the types of neighbours who left you alone, but in a good mood. And of course, him.

Park Seonghwa.

Lived two doors away and across the corridor from you. Worked as a junior resident at a hospital. A dream of a man. You two clicked instantly; maybe it was the circumstances of your first meeting that did it. You, in an oversized puffer coat, scarf wrapped up to your very eyes and a hat completing your disguise, only the crinkling of the plastic bag in your hands revealing why you were out and about at two thirty-five in the morning. Him, eyes slightly bloodshot, beanie tugged off to reveal a mop of black hair, and what looked to be a while lab coat protruding from layers of rained-on outerwear. Needless to say, both of you made quite a fascinating impression.

“So, what did you cook up in the labs this time of night, good sir?” you tried, too sleep-deprived to not fulfil your need for entertainment.

“Probably something that you were buying, good madam.” Seonghwa shot back at the speed of light, spinning on his heels to face you. You had stopped him right when he was about to unlock his front door. You noted the smirk that was appearing on his lips, and at that moment you decided that he was your type of man.

In your full incognito Mr. Stay-Puft glory you sashayed over to your neighbour, reaching into the bag and taking out a tightly packed cylinder.

“No wonder kimbap is so addictive.”

“Oh no! Not the ultra-classified prototype! Society is in danger!” raising his hands up, acting every part the diva in a low-budget, trashy horror flick, Seonghwa began to charm his way into your heart. So you did what no introvert had ever done before and, upon loosening your scarf slightly, took the risk and… introduced yourself.

“L/N Y/N. Your neighbour from… that door over there. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.” You bowed your head, momentarily concealing your shy smile.

“Park Seonghwa. The neighbour you just intercepted, and the pleasure is all mine.”

That night you had also made the gutsy move to offer to snack on the kimbap together, which led to the pair of  you having one philosophical discussion after another all through the night, ranging from the basics like ‘how come we did not talk a single time until now’ to the more insightful ‘what hope of yours would you want to reignite’ to the showstopper ‘why was there sound in the Star Wars intergalactic battles’. Probably the last one could be considered your first argument, but you were adults who knew how to communicate over even the most critical matters.

Steadily, you and Seonghwa became practically inseparable and were orbiting around one another even if outside of the complex. Your work schedules somehow complemented one another, and where he had to work night shifts or catastrophically long hours, you would be ready with a comforting meal and a completed chore or two – otherwise mundane and tiring but seeing a grown man giggle because he heard you took the trash out was beyond and became your choice of entertainment. Likewise, if you had project deadlines or particularly stressful client negotiations, Seonghwa would be right at your door, ready to take care of, quite literally, anything you would point at. Not that your friend from college would ever find out, but he was the one texting her back about what laundry detergent she should buy.

As time went on, you also got to see each other at your worst and lowest. His transition into being a full-time medical doctor was met with crash courses in intense epidemiology and volumes of patients unprecedented to him. Returning home after days of barely sitting down and intermittently losing consciousness for minutes of sleep had become a horrendous routine at a certain point. Seonghwa had crashed just about anywhere one could think of. His apartment, yours, even the corridor. And every time, your heart broke just a little, and you would climb close, flinging his arm around your neck and shoulder, and be his guide to a haven.

Though you would never understand the exact pain he felt, nor what he had to see out there and what choices he was forced to make, you tried your best to support Seonghwa how you could. Need more personal protective equipment? You were on it. Need hand sanitiser and antibacterial surface cleaner? Done and stocked up. Need to sit on the floor in silence for an hour and wait until the cacophony of the day stopped echoing in the mind? You were always ready.

It was the night of the 3rd of April, yet Seonghwa did not feel even a little bit happier, nor smarter, nor like he had the right to celebrate. For the most part, he had suppressed the fact that it was his birthday, instead pouring himself out at work until he could barely stand. At that point, like an automaton he followed the command of the doctor on call and trudged home, to the complex. He fell asleep twice on the metro, nearly missing his stop, and could barely walk up the tiny hill that now seemed to be a mountain.

He was fed up. Everything was too much. His own body was an unbearable load he had to carry. How did he fall victim to the illusion that the life of a doctor was one where he would feel gratitude and honour? The longer Seonghwa studied and worked, the more confident he became that no one ever said thank you to a medical professional. No, only blamed them. Blamed them for mistakes they did not make. Blamed them for the risks they did not take. Blamed them for when they tried their hardest, but that still was not enough.

Seonghwa thought of his family. How proud they were when he left his hometown to pursue his dreams at a prestigious university in Seoul. It used to bring him joy to think that the next time he would return for the holidays, his parents would show him off to anyone they could, and his brother would give him a congratulatory pat on the back and share the words ‘I knew you could do it, little bro’. He desperately wanted to return to the time when he still knew little about the field, so that it would not yet be tainted by the true colours of the world.

The wind was unusually cold for April, as though the winter had decided to return for a spring break. The young, fatigued man was fighting a losing battle against the gusts which did little to prevent tears from welling up. Not much longer now. One foot in front of the other. He was attempting to encourage himself to get across the little square in front of his building. In a confused panic when he almost lost his footing because of a hidden rock on the path, he raised his head, pleading for something better than this. Searching for a light.

There it was. A warm hue. Cheerful rays housed in four walls, hinting at a life behind the curtains. The sun that set only when you decided. The windows of your apartment, facing the square. He could imagine you swaying to whatever new release you had discovered, humming along to mask that you did not know the lyrics, cooking away. That was his guiding star.

In brighter spirits, Seonghwa managed to make his way to the ninth floor, where he was promptly greeted by your front door opening, and you in an oversized hoodie inviting him over for dinner once he was done with his second de-scrub and cleaning. Relief washed over him. After you had officially met and cemented yourselves as more than just neighbours, you had been nothing but kind and understanding of him. His work-induced lifestyle did not matter much to you, and you had not commented a single time that he should ‘change his ways’ or ‘go into a different field of medicine’. Over dinner at a local restaurant Seonghwa had explained to you his dreams of being a neurosurgeon, and you had merely lit up in admiration and commended him for his determination and strength.

This evening, too, you were right there for him. Once he had cleaned himself up and was at your door, he was greeted by an array of dishes that you had painstakingly been preparing for a few hours. From the traditional miyeok-guk to pajeon, you had done everything in your power to celebrate Seonghwa, even if it was just for a little, until midnight. That was when the swelling of his heart became too much, and he collapsed onto one of the dining chairs, head in his hands. The tears that had been on the verge of falling for the hours he was working were finally set free, and he could not help but want to hide.

You were taken aback. Never before had you brought anyone to tears. Especially for doing something that you would consider nice. But your intuition told you that there was something more to this, you were not one to judge. Seonghwa had been under pressure for an astonishingly long time, and his ability to still function blew you away. You did not know his whole story, but you wanted to ensure that he could get the happy ending he wanted.

Silently you poured the fragrant seaweed soup that you made, trying to follow a variation created by a cook from South Gyeongsang province, and set the bowl in front of him. You sat down across from the birthday boy. When he failed to move, you nudged his elbow with a plate of danmuji you had bought. When he finally looked up at you, eyes watery and red, you mustered your brightest grin and whispered:

“Don’t over-salt the food, Seonghwa, I want you to try it as is.” Hearing his chuckle was music to your ears. You reached over to pass him his cutlery, and before moving away, softly squeezed his forearm in reassurance. The gesture was meant to be brief and non-invasive, but Seonghwa had other plans and wrapped his fingers around your forearm, letting time stand still. He was aware that you were in a relationship with some good-for-nothing, so did not overstep any boundaries (though his body was screaming at him to act), but the touch had triggered a shutdown of his rumination. Right there and then, he was home.

“Thank you, Y/N.” He released you, only to pick up the spoon you provided and dig into the soup.

“You are very welcome, Seonghwa. Happy birthday.”

Not long after that, about a year and a half of you knowing one another, your neighbour turned closest friend had comforted you through loss of love; something you had initially attempted to hide, seeing as the loss Seonghwa had to witness day in day out was gut-wrenching on a different level, but he wanted to hear none of it. That same moment that he had managed to pry out of you the reason for your melancholy, he called into work claiming an emergency day off. He had stormed into your apartment with a mission to make you smile at least once, or at least to make you feel lighter – he did not have to try too hard, you had to admit. Part of you was certain that it was exactly because you had Seonghwa you could walk out of your ex-boyfriend’s apartment with a smile on your face.

The waves of bitter regret had hit you only after you came home. Replaying every scene in your head, you never thought yourself to be the one who would, one, be able to put up with someone, in retrospect, so judgemental for a total of three years, and two, be the one who was cheated on and then cussed out. The magical world of the new apartment complex you lived was shuddering under the heaviness of your dark mood.

The few weeks before Seonghwa had fully committed to treatment had passed agonisingly slow, with you hurling your phone across the living room in an attempt to silence the spam from your ex and existing on mere inertia. Getting up because you had to. Breathing out of habit. You had been struggling to keep your focus during meetings and had notified your team that you were to be exclusively online for the next couple of weeks due to being under the weather. By grace, your boss was more than understanding. And that was when you stopped being bothered to draw your curtains or to take care of yourself. Your ecosystem rapidly decreased in size until it was mashed into your apartment. Seonghwa was the one to see the signs. You were convinced that it was because he was a doctor and thus had a sixth sense, but he did not dare explain why he was acting the way he was. At least it was not the right time.

You healed fast. And got back into the pleasant lifestyle of amiable banter and housekeeping with Seonghwa. However, a few things had definitely changed since overcoming the various plot twists life had thrown at you. Probably one of the most obvious ones was that neither of you were hesitant to share stories about one another to your respective circles. Moreover, both of you would chat away even when unprompted, which had earned you a few sighs already. To express gratitude and satisfy your curiosity for where Seonghwa worked, you surprised him by bringing him a boxed lunch he had been raving about. This had set off a couple of rumours about you, though they were dispelled very quickly by your neighbour’s squadron of ambitious, wild, and hilarious doctors. They were quick to state that you had ‘old married couple energy’ and were asking if you could adopt them so they could get good treatment too. While you were laughing, you failed to notice the proud and warm grin that danced on Seonghwa’s lips and made his dark eyes gleam.

This was your shared rhythm. Your shared feeling of home.

☼☼☼☼☼

“Hey, do you need me to pick anything up on the way home?” your neighbour asked, his voice turning static for a split second as you switched the call to speaker.

You were currently hidden away in your home office – a tiny closet of a bedroom that you had converted to something of a studio for your creative deeds. So far, it was simply a desk and chair facing the window, a shelving unit housing random prototyping and art materials as well as being a pedestal to a potted English ivy to your right, and an overfilled corkboard to your left. As Seonghwa had commented, it was a manifestation of your creative and professional self. Truer words could not be said – it explained why you were constantly thinking of ways to update the interior.

As you repeatedly dragged and clicked with your mouse, scrutinising the vector image you were in the process of designing, you mumbled your resident partner in crime a response:

“I think I am good for now…”

“Really? So, we are just going to brush over the fact that you ran out of onions last week?”

You chuckled. The name under which you had him saved, ‘Mother Hwa🖤’ was very appropriate right that second. Nevertheless, these were the moments when you felt the most at ease. There was someone taking care of you, even though you were away from your childhood home, away from your old friends. There was someone right beside you, who you knew would return any care and affection a thousand-fold.

“See? You somehow know the contents of my kitchen better than I do. Please bestow some more knowledge upon me, dear Mars bar.” You countered, not looking away from your screen to pretend like you were still concentrated on work and not a soft mushy mess.

“Well… there was that one seasoning you had… you know the one in the red packet with the TV show host guy randomly in the corner and-” you tilted your head at the sudden pause “…since when am I a Mars bar???” you had to purse and suck in your lips to prevent a loud giggle from spilling out.

“Because you are a snack, Seonghwa.” Your success at a deadpan delivery sent the man on the call into a state of ‘error.exe’, even though the joke was outdated and highlighted how both of you were not quite the peak of modernity among the youth.

Before you had attained the status of singlehood, you were a lot more reserved with your jokes and flirtation, and understandably so. You had not wanted to appear to be a player, not give anyone false hopes. Seonghwa had to admit that it had been slightly easier to talk to you when he felt as though he had no chance. Now, more often than not, your comments reduced him to nothing more than a pained expression and flaming cheeks. Believing that there could be something, a tomorrow, hell, a whole future with you, really sent him into a mental frenzy.

“…okay… then I won’t get you the bbungyeoppang that is on sale since I am enough.” He whispered. Nothing much, but a shiver still ran down your spine at the sudden sultriness in his enunciation.

“Why not spice things up and add a plus one, especially since they are so willing?” you countered, mirroring him.

“Oh you- ah sorry, I have to drop the call, duty calls. Hongjoong is asking for a consult. Then I’ll pick up the groceries on the way, see you later Y/N.” Seonghwa rushed, jolting you back to reality. That’s right, you were still in your tiny room, in front of your set up, hand hovering above the mouse.

“Sure, got you. See you later, Seonghwa!”

As soon as you ended the call and watched the phone screen fade to black, you spun around on your chair, doing a miniature wiggle dance. These domestic interactions had never failed to give rise to pure glee within you. It was a tad unconventional to be pretty much sharing living space with someone who, technically, was just your neighbour, but it felt more than right. Oh, the wonders of having powered through life struggles and global crises together.

While you continued to work away at a brand re-design portfolio deck, Seonghwa was left standing in one of the many passageways of KQ Hospital where he worked. This particular one was almost fully glass, connecting the emergency centre to the main building. Whenever he felt like shooting you a quick text or to slow down after doing rounds and more training, Seonghwa would come here. To some degree, the location reminded him of the apartment complex – people bolting across, on a mission, never stopping to admire the setting sun that the glass captured, turning the linoleum floor into a carpet of glistening gold. People greeting each other with a curt nod, posing as good colleagues when in fact they had no idea what the other’s name was, nor why they felt obligated to follow societal norms and not ignore one another. Seonghwa, too, was guilty of this, especially in his first rotations when everything was a huge blur.

At one point he had even ceased to reach out to his friends – those in the exact same rotation and doing the same shifts as him, let alone those with whom, on top of exhaustion, there were other excuses. Funnily enough, it was you who pulled him out of this pattern, preventing him from losing himself and who he held dear. You reminded him that even in this vast world where one can never quite know anyone’s full story, you can find those whom you wouldn’t mind co-authoring with. One of these people was Hongjoong, his best friend since the first year of medical school and colleague he could count on. The shorter man was standing at the entrance to the passageway, arms crossed, his mobile phone dangling between two fingers.

“No wonder I couldn’t call you, Hwa. You were flirting with Y/N again.”

“Come on, man, I wasn’t flirting.” Seonghwa waved his friend off, hiding his phone in his scrubs.

“Then what was it, digital first base?”

Seonghwa could imagine the mischievous expression on Hongjoong’s face, one not dissimilar to that of a dad figuring out that his son was talking to someone in a very happy tone. Sighing deeply, he chose to not look to his side and continue walking, hands in his pockets. Seeing that the joke did not quite land, Hongjoong backtracked and added:

“If it is going to make you actually respond to me, I can start paging you, I don’t mind. I have gotten pretty good at dialling up the numbers at lighting speed.” This made Seonghwa shudder and turn dramatically.

“Oh, you would not dare, Kim Hongjoong, I am still getting flashbacks from the time the senior resident just decided to give me three pagers on a Friday night shift.” He proclaimed, placing a hand on his chest.

“You’ll deal with it, better train those nerves up for when you become a neurosurgeon.” Hongjoong poked him in the arm, then fell into the same stride as his friend.

That was how it had been through out the years they had known each other. Through thick and thin, on caffeine or suffering through withdrawals. They had sworn to support one another through the thorned path that was medicine, and somehow had managed to deal with each other’s nonsense. At this point they could be called brothers, having only moved into different apartments by mutual agreement to not drive each other insane 24/7. Interestingly, their opportunity to spend some time apart, forming their own habitats and lives not directly related to careers and studies, had enabled them to be even better attuned to each other’s changes. This was how Hongjoong knew you were someone who Seonghwa could rely on. In a matter of weeks after ghosting those closest left and right, he had walked into the staff common room with an apologetic smile and coffee for all his friends who he had gathered prior. And, upon being taken aside by Hongjoong for a miniature interrogation, brushed any suspicions and hypotheses aside, only saying that ‘he had found home’.

Needless to say, when the bond between you two began to grow stronger, and you had, evidently, not left his side for the duration of the worst parts of the pandemic, nor did Seonghwa abandon any hopes as he had previously done when it came to even hints of relationships, for Hongjoong you were instantly approved. Bonus points for having returned the next day after bringing Seonghwa lunch that one time to feed his friends too. It was frustrating that his best friend was not yet aware of the necessity to make the final move and make things official. For a doctor he was unbelievably thick in matters of love, or was a classicist and was afraid of rejection.

“You know…” Hongjoong began as they were approaching the elevators, “I think you really need to seal the deal, Hwa. Time goes by fast, and it is unfair to both of you if you don’t neither time nor the feelings you obviously have.”

Seonghwa expected that this conversation would happen at some point. His friend knew him too well. Maybe even caught him looking at your pictures that he had saved on his phone in a separate album of his gallery. He took a deep breath and shrugged, pressing the button to call the lift.

“True, but at the same time, things are going so well right now and-”

“Hate to rain on your parade, buddy, but that is how you messed up with your first girlfriend. And your second… oh wait a minute, even the blind date I set you up on did not work out, guess why?”

“Okay, okay, I got it. Fine.”

“No, you ‘don’t got it’. I can see you are scared. But you know why? Because you are being given a chance by the universe to hold onto something so precious and fragile that you know you cannot be the same without. But your self-doubt and anxieties wake up and torment you, day in day out, saying that you cannot step up and be responsible and commit.”

Seonghwa fell quiet, all attention on the painful monologue that was cutting up his psyche into small pieces, arranging it into a clearer bigger picture that he was trying to hide from himself.

“Take this, if you were not ready to step up, you wouldn’t have her as your emergency contact – don’t ask how I know. And, and you sure as hell would not be rushing home after a day shift just to make it to the bakery she likes. You would not be so worried for her even if everything was okay and you would not drop everything just to help her. You, my friend, are denying what is so blatantly obvious and is right in front of you that I seriously want you to call ophthalmology.”

“I swear, it is almost as if I was the one who called you for a life consult.” Seonghwa retorted as they watched the numbers blink in ascending order.

“See how lucky you are? Doctor Kim is blessing you with love wisdom for free.”

“Yeah… yeah… And I am trying my best to apply it.” If only destiny was so kind so as to give him an opportunity to just… get the awkward stuff over with and be able to wrap you in his arms – he was getting ahead of himself. Again. Seonghwa ran a hand through his hair. Way to go, declaring to another doctor he was ‘self-soothing’. He cleared his throat and decided to fully switch topic.

“Now, oh wise one, what troubles did you wish to talk to me about?”

“Oh, okay, so there is this one patient, complaining of episodes where their surroundings start spinning uncontrollably and they get a splitting headache and waves of nausea-”

“Vertigo?”

“Exactly, care to check it out?”

“Sure, lead the way.”

They ambled onwards, having fully moved on from conversing about you, however Seonghwa was still clouded over, pondering what you were up to. He was meant to have a full day off soon, and his infatuated self was inclined to conjure up plans exclusively involving you. But first, this patient…

You had not moved much in the time of Hongjoong’s and Seonghwa’s chat, nor for the two hours after that. Having found the perfect position in your chair, you were an unstoppable force, bashing out page after page of innovation for a re-branding that a late-stage start-up had requested. Their market focus reminded you of Seonghwa. Neuro-something or other. Maybe you should show him a sneak peek of one of your designs, just to see what the impact would be, though the non-disclosure agreement was hanging right above you like a guillotine. Yet another cause for your having been accustomed to asking well-crafted questions about your neighbour’s day – patient confidentiality was not too far off, style-wise. Like serif and sans serif fonts. Or two font families that could be mish-mashed together and no one would mind.

It was obvious that you had spent far too long doing some ‘font shopping’, as you liked to call it. Another hour, to be exact. However, you pushed the initial wave of guilt away pretty quickly, reminding yourself that, thankfully, this, too was part of your job. You yawned and stretched, taking a look at the time.

“Right, time for a snack!” you exclaimed out loud, and with a huff pushed yourself to your feet.

It was already getting dark outside, and temperatures were dropping in true autumn fashion, so after much deliberation you settled for a decaffeinated latte and a yogurt you found in your fridge. You moved to your sofa and turned on some random drama to play in the background while you zoned out scrolling for inspiration on your phone. After not finding anything too impressive but liking things for the sake of it, you clicked on your own profile to reminisce on the memories you captured. Funny how more and more of them appeared to involve the doctor next door.

After you proudly deleted any traces of your ex from social media, you vowed to be careful about the people you included in photos. So, none actually revealed the identity of be it a shadow or an extra mug or the holder of a ticket, but for you each scene was crystal clear, and replayed with ease. There was the picture Seonghwa had taken during your ‘supposed to be spontaneous but was planned weeks in advance’ getaway to Daejeon – you looking particularly cute while scrutinising an exhibit at the museum of art. There was the snapshot from one of your late-night trips to the convenience store, when you two were snuggled in oversized hoodies, sprawled on plastic chairs. And one of a completed Lego build, completed in three hours, mainly with you observing and searching for any stray piece that had gone flying across your neighbour’s living room.

You were also glad for the time you had to move on. You had a problematic relationship previously, you had to admit, and rushing into anything more would have had you repeating patterns you did not want to remember. Yet now, all you were hoping for was for a new chapter. An evolution of what you had been cultivating. Your instincts were telling you that you and Seonghwa were approaching a sort of crossroads, or a breaking point, and depending on what decisions you two would make, your future could be rewritten, and the world around the apartment complex either bloom or wither.

It was not that complicated a conclusion to reach – your ex had been bothering you incessantly with messages, voicemails and even direct messaging on social media, leading you to block him almost everywhere. He was going through the usual routine of pretending to care for your wellbeing, demanding attention and then on a night when he was probably shitfaced, saying he loved you and then proceeding to call you a whore. Prince charming indeed. You were disgusted that you had ever associated yourself with that sorry excuse for a man.

Tonight was no different. After deciding to post a ‘throwback’ story, he was back. It had been months since you last shared a full conversation, and it appeared that he was more communicative than ever. Was this what the memes you had seen online were talking about, where two people in a breakup often had radically different grief processing schedules? You were tired. You wanted to forget what and who you had moved away from. You wanted to build your new home in peace, and here was a ghost, howling and wishing to haunt you.

[do not answer!!] hey

[do not answer!!!] I know you are seeing this, you have read receipts on

[do not answer!!!] Y/N… come on I just want to talk things through

[do not answer!!!] I don’t think we have ever really had a chance to go over things

[do not answer!!!] you know, understand each other’s perspectives

[do not answer!!!] Y/N! seriously give me a chance I want to just TALK

[do not answer!!!] anyways, I am on my way to your place so… I guess talk soon?

[love-belle]

well, i'm still in love with you !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which their fall-in-love-again era is them soft launching each other while driving their friends wild.

or

for when you're still in love with them and will be for forever. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // charles leclerc x fem!reader

prequel - saw ur mom at the grocery store ·˚ ༘

warnings - language. suggestive jokes (???)

author's note - im so SORRY for not updating life is CRAZY rn like ???? so much has happened like im in LOVE im DONE with SCHOOL i have EXAMS SJSHSJSJKSKS im so sorry i hope u like this i love u all <3

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by lewishamilton, carmenmmundt, lilymhe and 1,725,819 others

yourusername he's in my head so much i might as well just give him some

11,628 comments

username HOLD UP

username im shaking in my big girl boots rn what the Fuck

username y/n ?????

username SCREECHING

username roman empire or roman empire

username IM DYING OH MY GOD

landonorris just because you can type something doesn't mean you SHOULD

-> yourusername shut up u literally sprouted like an unwanted weed and not even the good kind

-> yourusername i am sorry that was mean

-> landonorris 😕

-> username someone keep these two away from each other before y/n makes lando cry 😭

username live love laugh y/n y/l/n

username i need cameras recording their whole vacation !!!!!!!!!

username this whole holiday will be so much more entertaining than 90% of all the tv shows out there 😭😭

username lord i pray that this is about charles

maxverstappen1 you didn't hear it from me but he's giggling

-> yourusername tell him to stop giggling and help me chase those seagulls away

-> landonorris LEAVE MY SEAGULLS ALONE

-> yourusername THEY ATE MY SANDWICH

username rip y/n's hater girl era u will be missed 😞☝️

username i know charles is thoroughly enjoying this like

username i will get over a lot of things in life but i will never get over lando and max joining the y/l/n-leclerc vacation simply because they do not trust charles to do the sensible thing

-> yourusername actually they're all dumb

-> maxverstappen1 excuse you

-> yourusername u called grey "dark white"

-> maxverstappen1 I PAID TO KEEP QUIET

-> yourusername blocking out the haters 🫸🙄🫷

username forever entertained by this group they never disappoint

username need me a max and lando to get me a bf or whatever 🙄🙄🙄

username waiting for charles to come here and say some stupid shit before going on with my day !!!!

charles_leclerc i bet u think about me

-> yourusername nah bc no way ferrari can make u THIS delusional what's the cause

-> yourusername i am sorry i was told that i cannot say shit about ferrari clown private limited whatever corporation

-> username please never change

charles_leclerc i will make u pasta !!!!!!!!

-> yourusername no thank u i saw what happened to arthur

-> charles_leclerc THAT WAS NOT MY FAULT THE PASTA WAS NOT GOOD

-> yourusername skill issue

charles_leclerc where r u

-> yourusername why r u typing like that

-> charles_leclerc lando said it's cool

-> yourusername lando thinks birds don't have feet don't believe him

-> landonorris why am i catching strays

username WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THE FACT THAT CHARLES LIED TO GET MAX AND LANDO ON VACATION 😭😭

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by carlossainz55, pierregasly, landonorris and 2,167,926 others

charles_leclerc we'd still worship this love

12,628 comments

username NAH WHO IS THIS MAN

username OH ??????

username false god lyrics imma die 🤣🤣🤣

username y/n effect is so real

username PLEASE NOT CHARLES SOFT LAUNCHING HIS EX 😭😭😭

-> username y'all put some respect on my girl's name 😭

-> yourusername i am no one's ex i will sue u for defamation

-> charles_leclerc for legal reasons she's JOKING

-> yourusername how do U know that tf

-> username i missed this

username hshshdjssjdjsjjsajjn;;;;;;;;bwywuuaj;...

username crying this is everything i've prayed for

username no one's mentioning the fact that charles wasn't even supposed to go on the vacation 😭😭😭

-> landonorris he booked his tickets and acted like it was a mistake

-> charles_leclerc you're a mistake

-> username and THAT'S how i know y/n and charles are back together 🤞🤞🤞

username i need a documentary on this vacation u don't GET it

username max and lando we trust u

maxverstappen1 you just pushed your love in water

-> charles_leclerc she told me i looked like tweety from looney toons

-> maxverstappen1 well

username crying i love every second of this

username i need to study this man's brain under a microscope like

-> username his thought process is just so UNIQUE

username i need them to confirm their relationship so i can breathe a sigh of relief thank u

username need me a man who posts like this

yourusername told u taylor swift songs slap

-> charles_leclerc highkey

yourusername i'm the most hilarious person ever idk why ur mad

-> charles_leclerc you called me tweety

-> yourusername hilarious

-> charles_leclerc my lover's got humour

-> yourusername OMGGGGG

yourusername we might just get away with this

-> charles_leclerc i told you, if you commit murder i will NOT be an accomplice

-> yourusername those are lyrics but fuck u too i guess

username i prayed for times like this 🤞🤞

≡;- ꒰ °instagram stories ꒱

charles_leclerc added to their instagram stories

≡;- ꒰ °twitter ꒱

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, carmenmmundt and 1,972,628 others

yourusername well i'm still in love with u 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄 (❤️)

tagged charles_leclerc

comments are disabled for this post

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, pierregasly and 2,126,891 others

charles_leclerc 2 out of 262819 photos where she stole my phone and the one (1) photo with me in it like okaaaaaaaaaay (🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥💯💯💯💯💯💯🥶🥶🥶🥶🥶🥶🥶‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️)

tagged yourusername

12,728 comments

username NAHHH WHO TAUGHT HIM HOW TO TYPE LIKE THAT

username PLEASE OMG

username andddddddd we're 🔙 to having charles have a breakdown every single time y/n (HIS GIRLFRIEND) interacts with him

username god heard my prayers

username why do i have a feeling lando and max went EXTREME

-> yourusername if u call pushing us both off the yacht and not letting us back on until we said "hiiiiii" civilly to each other extreme, then yes. they were EXTREME.

-> charles_leclerc still mad about it. i said "hiiiii 😍😍😍😍🥰🥰🥰🥰😘😘😘😘" and you said "hi 😐😐😐😐."

-> yourusername sorry i was too busy finding ways to poison u then ❤️❤️❤️ im good and better now ❤️❤️❤️ (police and officials LOOK AWAY)

-> username netflix needs to leave dts and document THIS

username someone should write a book on this vacation and it should be max ☝️☝️☝️

username WAR IS OVERRRRR

username they're BACK god bless

username the way i KNOW charles is thanking max and lando on his knees like homeboy would be stuck without them fr

-> danielricciardo excuse you i was the mastermind

-> landonorris you literally did nothing except sit on ft for hours and yell at us.

-> danielricciardo tell that to all those thank you texts (money) charles sent me

-> landonorris YOU TOLD ME NO ONE WILL BE GETTING PAID charles_leclerc

-> charles_leclerc i sent him $1 because heidi asked me to

-> heidiberger_ he threatened to fly out to italy i did everyone a favour

username the y/n effect is coming back with full throttle like yeaaaaaaaaah

username i need a trilogy on this vacation like i need EVERYTHING

username the way i KNOW both of their families just rejoiced like they were going through it 😭😭😭

username everyday i wake up and thank the lord and heavens for daniel ricciardo, max verstappen and lando norris

yourusername i look so good wtfff

-> charles_leclerc yes you do 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

yourusername bébé ( baby )

-> charles_leclerc mon ange ( my angel )

yourusername soulmates 4 sure

-> charles_leclerc 👍

-> username lord i am not your strongest soldier

-> username why is he like this 😭😭😭

yourusername lowk missed taking 26271727 selfies on ur phone

-> charles_leclerc missed seeing your pretty face every time i opened my gallery 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

-> username y/n never leave him again please

-> username my man's TRAUMATISED

[starryeyedjanai]

Eddie texting Steve DO NOT OPEN THAT SNAPCHAT I JUST SENT PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD

And Steve is like ??? Tf did you send me ?

And of course he’s insanely curious, but he’s a good friend and if Eddie sent something he didn’t mean to, he’s not gonna open it.

Eddie texts back 😔I sent you a dick pic I meant to send Robin. I have you both as thing 1 and thing 2 in my phone and I sent it to the wrong thing 😫

Steve sends back ???? Why were you sending my lesbian bestie a dick pic my guy????

And Eddie is like for the aesthetics? I need to know if I got a good angle

Steve immediately facetimes Robin and asks, “Why is Eddie sending you dick pics for the aesthetics?

Robin says, “Oh, because I’m objective and will tell him if his dongle looks weird.” Like it's a perfectly normal thing, like he's the weird one for even questioning it.

“Who is he sending the dick pics to after you approve them?” he asks, out of his mind with curiosity.

“How the hell am I supposed to know that? Why do you even want to know?” she asks.

He deflects and tells her that Eddie accidentally sent him a dick pic and that he can’t open it or he’ll see what Eddie dick looks like.

She lets him change the subject, but she's grinning at him like she sees right through him, sees through the deflection. He knows they're going to have to talk about his Eddie problem at some point.

Before they hang up, she says she’ll come over and delete it in the morning for him.

That should be enough to calm him down, that he doesn't have to deal with it alone, but Steve is perturbed all night. He wants to open the snapchat, wants to see what Eddie is sending other people. It feels like a violation of his privacy, though, because he didn't intend for Steve to see it.

So Steve sucks it up and leaves the entire app unopened, lest he be tempted. That doesn't stop him from thinking about it all night.

What kind of pictures is he sending people? What does his dick look like in these "aesthetic" pictures? He sneaks a hand into his underwear thinking about the kinds of pictures he might send Steve if he knew he was interested.

In the morning, Robin comes over and opens the snapchat for him - she doesn't let him see it, and she takes a selfie of herself holding up a peace sign so that Eddie knows it was her that opened the picture.

She says, “It was a really good dick pic,” to Steve, like that is at all helpful to his current situation.

He’s gonna be thinking about this for a long, long time, it seems.

[evilgwrl]

TF 141 x Reader (Apocalypse!AU)

Immune: Two

WARNING: This is a 18+ Poly!141 series (MDNI)

CW: Suggestive themes, mention of rape, female masturbation, second hand embarrassment

Masterlist

You looked at the dishes piled up in the sink, a wave of nausea hitting you. A part of you was glad, comforted by the idea of having humans around yet you couldn’t shake the substantial feeling of dread.

What if they killed you? Or raped you? Or both? What would happen to your body? Would you turn? Would you just decompose and hopefully move onto a better place? Your mind thumped against the thick walls of your skull before you felt a hand placed on your shoulder. A hand clamped your shoulder.

“You ‘lright?” Price said, a comforting smile adorned on his face before you shrugged his hand off.

“Just fine,” you reply, a tight smile on your face, “I’ll show you the bedrooms.” They followed you upstairs, the pounding of their boots against the floor giving you a headache. You led them to a bedroom, the subtle smell of dust lingering as you took in the unused space. There was a double bed, a mint green quilt with pink roses adorning it, two pillows both placed neatly on either side. “You can figure out who goes where,” you say, pushing the door open from across the hall.

You walk into the second guest room, a queen sized bed splat in the middle, a dark blue quilt tucked in, a row of grey pillows furnishing the top. “There’s a bathroom down the hall to the right. The plumbing still works somehow but don’t over-flush. You can have a shower but the water will be cold,” you say, attempting to sound intimidating as you avert your gaze.

“Thank you,” Price smiled, stepping inside the room.

Gaz and Soap offered you a squeeze on the shoulder quickly, a polite thank you leaving their mouth. Ghost however, sorted just stared at you, blinking slowly before turning towards the first room.

You find yourself thinking as you brushed Cecil, his grey fur shedding quickly as you stroked his behind, whispering small praises towards the large animal.

What if you tell them to leave and they don’t? What if they take over your house and kick you out? What if-

You stop yourself, rubbing your head in your hands as you lead the horses back to the barn, preparing dinner for the other animals before locking the door securely. You finished up outside, ensuring the crops were well watered before heading up the porch steps and through the back door.

Gaz was sat on the couch, a book in his hands as he looked up. “I hope you don’t mind, found it on the shelf.”

You kept your face straight but nodded, “It’s fine.” Truth be told, it was as comforting to have people around, the same as it was fearful. You knew that if they tried anything, they would win, no matter what gun you hold.

Time seems to be going quicker as you prepare a salad with some grown vegetables with bread. You were glad that your father was a chef, always teaching you how to make things from scratch. You didn’t like to dwell, hoping that somehow your family were immune too. Maybe one day, you would see them again. Maybe.

You placed the loaf of dough inside a tray before lighting the woodburner and placing it inside. You hummed softly to yourself as you heard footsteps against the wooden stairs. “Feeding us again, bonnie?”

“Only if it’ll get you guys to leave me alone,” you reply, not bothering to look at him. You hear his tongue click softly as he shuffles over to you.

“Y’ need help?”

You lowered the knife, gesturing for him to take over as you step outside, sitting on the old porch chair as you tuck your legs up, arms holding them in place as you stare out, the hues of the sun disappearing as the night begins to consume it.

As night falls, you head inside, hands reaching into the burner to grab the bread as you let it cool. You looked at the large bowl of vegetables tossed together, the men gathered around the never-used dining table, chattering amongst each other.

You let them sit for a while before calling out. It was entertaining watching the four grown men subtly walk faster than the other to get a plate first. You cut the bread, steam gauging out of each slice before you sat down at the dining table, fingers nervously fiddling with the metal cutlery.

They sat down around you, looking at you occasionally as you ate. “Listen, we do appreciate-“ Price began before you cut him off.

“You’ve told me. You can stay for the night but you’re off tomorrow. I prefer living alone.”

Price nods as the others look down, the sound of lettuce and carrot crunching filling the awkward void. As they finished up, you locked the doors and shut the blinds, the gentle hum of the fire comforting you before you head upstairs.

Your eyes flicker between pages of a book as you nestle in bed. You were clad in a sheer nightgown, your usual pyjama set hanging to dry outside. Your eyebrows furrowed as you read. While cliche, for a while everything felt normal when absorbing yourself between lines of paper, like you were simply escaping reality.

A gentle knock sounded on your door as you looked up. Price stood there, gentle smile on his face as he asked to come in.

“What is it?” You answered.

“I know I’ve said it, but thank you. Even if it was just for a day, it’s helped us a lot. Not many people, especially a woman alone, would let four men into her home… not during a time like this.”

Your body tensed for a second before it relaxed. You let out a soft sigh, placing the book on the side as you stood up to look at him closer. There was no use in lying, he was very attractive. His stern looking face covered with a bushy beard and moustache, blue eyes staring intensely under thick brows. He was older, the evidence of faint wrinkles indented on his forehead, yet his body was still in shape.

You were never a prude, but also never pushed for unnecessary encounters with the opposite sex. You weren’t an ugly girl, your features working well together, especially when you weren’t scowling.

“I-“ you begin, trying to think of what to say, “I appreciate you saying that. You guys are the first… real people I’ve come across since this all began. I know how difficult it is. And I suppose it wasn’t bad to reencounter civilisation.”

Price lets out a shallow laugh, hand coming up to squeeze at your shoulder as he looks at you. You don’t shrug him away this time, allowing the grip to scold your skin with prickling heat. You didn’t speak, simply watching him back through hooded lashes.

You felt your nipples pebble, the cold air brushing through as you remembered the warmth of your bed. You watch his gaze flicker down to your chest, sucking in a silent breath before he looked back up at you.

Had it been 296 days for him too without a woman? Had it been 296 days for all of them without a woman?

You didn’t shy away from his gaze, heat spreading across your body as you felt the timid intimidation of a low throb in your pussy. You offered him a small smile before gripping the door. “Goodnight, John.”

“Night, love.”

You felt like a fucking teenager, with your gown bunched up at your waist, hands timorous as they softly rolled the sensitive bud in a circular motion, gentle pants spilling from your lips. Everything felt more real, more heightened, probably from the lack of touching down there for months.

Dipping your fingers into your slit, legs spread and needy, you could feel the antagonising slick tease your hole, pooling at the crevice of your ass. This wet over a random man? You should feel ashamed, should, but you don’t. The light sound of squelching lit your room as you plunged a desperate finger into your heat, a rough gasp leaving your throat as you lie back further.

You tease yourself, left hand reaching down to entertain your neglected clit as another finger braced your entrance. Did it always feel like this? Did my fingers always not feel like enough? Like they needed something more?

A wanton moan stained the room as you thrashed your head against the pillow, sticky fingers just reaching that gooey spot inside you, swift thrusts causing your eyes to roll back.

You felt like a virgin again, pussy barely able to take two fingers and minimal thrusts before the coil in your stomach began to form.

Would it be so bad to call him in? Soak his beard in your cunt? Feel what it’s like to take two fingers properly? Maybe more?

You felt like you had a balloon growing inside you, every swift movement expanding it more, ready to pop, ready to let your body release, ready to feel satisfi-

“F’cking hell-“

You looked at the sudden burst of sound, eyes darting over to your least favourite in the house, visible crinkles in his dirty mask. His eyes visibly darting to your heat, taking in your fingers stuffed inside, the slickness coating them.

You squealed, orgasm barely washing over you as you twitched, pulling your fingers out abruptly and straightening your nightgown.

“GET THE FUCK OUT!” You screeched, voice cracking as you wobbled to the door and slammed it shut, body leaning against it as you panted. You stilled, listening to hear his footsteps walk over but the comforting sound never came.

[emo-batboy]

Things Battinson Totally Did During His First Year of University

Using Unhinged or Odd Things I Also Did as a College Freshman :D

Note: for this list, let’s believe Bruce was living in an (admittedly expensive and swanky) dorm because it is required for first-years, especially those entering at a young age, and Alfred told him he needed to make friends. Also yes I did every single thing on this list. I never claimed to be a role model

Bruce, to his TA: I’m so sorry I’m late to class. I gave blood a few hours ago and almost fainted on the way here, but it won’t happen again.

Signs up for a class called “Age of Dinosaurs” despite it not being required whatsoever and proceeds to work his entire schedule around it

Bruce: Your mental health is super important. If you think you should see the on-campus therapist, go see them. Friend: Fine. I’ll sign up for therapy if you sign up for therapy too. Bruce: Hold on-

Finds a loophole in his housing contract that allows him to get a pet frog, calls him kermit :)

Gets a second frog because Kermit was lonely, names it Constantine after Muppets Most Wanted, then realizes that they’re gay for each other. Wonders if the rainbow-colored rocks he got them triggered anything

Swings dramatically between calling Alfred every single day and ghosting him for weeks, cries when he realizes what he did

“Accidentally” joins the student body council, doesn’t know what he’s doing, gets re-elected anyway

Molds a dragon out of Laffy Taffy instead of doing his work

Bruce: *joins Honors, gets all A’s, takes the max amount of classes, has several minors, overachieves* Also Bruce: I’m a failure.

Breaks into a building after hours to study because NO ONE KNOWS HOW TO SHUT THE FUCK UP AT THE LIBRARY

Bruce: I will not get seasonal depression this year. Bruce: *gets real and seasonal depression that year*

Meticulously schedules his day with a color-coded planner because if he sits down for too long, the thoughts will consume him

Gives a presentation to his rhetoric class on how much he likes Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse (it is 20 minutes long)

Successfully allocates funding from the student body council to pay for free feminine products in the dorms OUT OF SPITE because someone said it couldn't be done. fuck you, Andrew

Bruce: It is not an all-nighter if I go to sleep before my first class. Friend: It is 7:30am, the sun is in the sky, and your first class is at 12:30. Bruce: But I am getting sleep.

Refuses to go anywhere without his backpack because what if he needs three notebooks at once

Loses over 20 pounds because ✨stress✨ and scares the shit out of Alfred when he comes home for Thanksgiving

Argues with his TA over the one (1) question he got wrong on his Dinosaur exam

Bruce, calling Alfred: Hello father figure. How do I do taxes? Do I have to do them myself? Also, I think I’m having a panic attack.

Joins in on a charity arts-and-crafts project that gives kids books with matching activities made by volunteers, proceeds to commandeer the project because “it’s not color-blind friendly” and rewrites the instructions for everyone

Makes a murder wall

Goes to one (1) sports game and proceeds to leave in the first ten minutes because it’s way too loud wtf is wrong with people

Professor, addressing the lecture hall: I dare you to write an essay about these two sentences. Bruce: *writes an essay about six words, gets a 100, never even read the book*

Crawls into the ceiling for some alone time

Ghosts someone after a date because he’s too scared to tell them he didn’t know it was a date in the first place and now he feels bad

Classmate: How tf does he walk across campus that fast? I go in the same direction he does on my bike, and he’s always ahead of me. Bruce: *is gay sprinting to Dinosaur class*

Refuses to let others use his Favorite Pen TM

Constantly gets mistaken for a Grad Student because he is “so wise and mature” (bestie, that’s the autism)

Alfred: *casually mentions he got into a car accident through text* Bruce: *replies with a meme while hyperventilating because he doesn’t know what to do with that information??!*

Wears a suit to one of his finals

Regularly eats non-organic food for the first time in his life, proceeds to learn about several allergies Alfred forgot to mention he has

Writes “What is a Hot Pocket?” in calligraphy and proceeds to laugh his ass off alone in his dorm because he is so exhausted he’s reached the point of delusion

Locks himself out of his dorm right before class, frantically asks the floor group chat if someone can help, proceeds to tell the nice gay man on the floor who saved him “I love you” because his social skills have hit rock bottom

Makes a little music album display next to his desk for his favorite band (Nirvana) His friends call it a shrine, and they are technically correct

Has a blacklist of people he refuses to interact with because Reasons

Counselor: What do you want to do when you graduate? Bruce: *gestures vaguely*

Refuses to take the bus because there are people in there and he doesn’t like those

Loses one of his frogs, how tf did he do that, they’re fully aquatic, oh fuck, this is probably why they got rid of that loophole a year later because unbeknownst to Bruce, he accidentally started a frog revolution in the dorms, btw he SWEARS he did not mean to do that

Has two trash cans in his room: one for the Good Garbage, and one for the Bad Garbage. Only Bruce knows which is which

Bruce: *writes a creative piece about a ship’s final thoughts as it sinks, bringing its passengers down with it* TA: Absolutely lovely, Bruce, but are you okay?

Goes on Night Walks, keeps himself safe by maintaining a level 12 resting bitch face at all times

Earns the nickname “8th floor cryptid” after pacing the halls at 3am when it’s too cold for Night Walks (honestly tho how tf didn’t he get the nickname earlier?)

Bruce: Do you think a depressed person could do this? Bruce: *has a manic episode*

Okay that's all love you BYE

[nadvs]

better off (part one)

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

summary your split with rafe left its mark. when you feel like you’re finally getting over him, he pulls you back in. you decide that break-up sex is the best way to say goodbye once and for all.

warnings substance use, smut, toxic relationship

» masterlist

You have to remind yourself of his temper. Of his need for control. Of how fucking mean he can be.

Because when you’re at a party in a beach house on the north side of the island and your phone flashes with a text from Rafe, your drunken instinct is to reply to him.

It’s been a month since your last explosive fight. That argument in his car was the final nail in the coffin, the wake-up call that whatever you were trying to put back together was unsalvageable.

It ended abruptly. Your mind has replayed your last screamed words over and over again. This isn’t working, you shouted, your throat burning. Fuck it then, he shouted louder.

And you got out of his car and haven’t spoken since.

Despite its end, it’s not like your six-month relationship was all bad. Between great dates and even greater sex, you two had formed a real friendship. Because of those good times, you’ve been holed up in your bedroom since, grieving, crying your eyes out.

But when it was bad, it was toxic. You yelled at each other. Called each other names. Played mind games.

The worst was that you were both fuelled by spite when you were angry. He purposely hit you where it hurt, validating your insecurities just to crush you.

Although you exchanged some vile words, you think you’ll always regret when you told him he’s just like his father. His face fell. He went quiet. You’d never seen someone’s eyes lose their light quite like that.

Your eyes travel over Rafe’s text. You at Dec’s?

Your mutual friend Declan is the host of the ridiculously loud party you’re standing in the middle of. This is the first time since the break-up that you’ve felt okay enough to go out. And your stomach turns with anticipation that Rafe is somewhere here in the crowd.

At first, you wanted to text back that you are. But as your mind flashes through everything he did to you, every time he called you sensitive like it was ridiculous of you to be hurt by his mistreatment, making you feel crazy, you angrily respond: why tf do you care??

Your phone buzzes within a few seconds with his message. Lol calm down

It’s downright incredible how quickly he can piss you off. With that text alone, your blood is boiling.

Calm down. It’s what he always said whenever you brought up a valid reason you were upset. You would be completely collected, but he’d still tell you to calm down. He wanted to frustrate you.

You reply: fuck you. And you want to find him simply to chew him out.

You tell your friends you’ll be right back. You leave before they can ask where you’re going. After all the venting you did about Rafe, about what a toxic asshole he is, you know they’d give you shit for seeking him out.

Rafe’s heart is racing. From the coke, from the booze, from the way that missing you is still such a heavy fucking weight on his chest that isn’t going away.

It’s been weeks and he’s still pissed off about it. Life feels unliveable. When the argument started, he thought it was just going to be another bad night. You had threatened breaking up with each other a million times before. But this time, it was real.

And every time his phone vibrates, he hopes it’s you. He looks at your photos in his camera roll, wallowing in the hole you left in his life. He still has videos of you two fucking and he watches them late at night, touching himself and letting himself pretend you’re still together.

He even puts extra care into getting ready every time he comes to these parties so you’ll think he looks good if you run into him. But you haven’t been going out. At least, not that he’s seen, and he purposely searches every crowd for you.

So, when he saw you in the distance tonight, a sight he’s been dying to see, his heart stopped. And he texted you, pretending he didn’t already know you were here, because it’d be too much of a hit to his pride if he approached you and you brushed him off.

Good thing. Because your response told him what he needs to know.

When you find Rafe in the crowd, he’s knocking back what’s left of a beer. He had told you he was hoping to slow down on the booze back when you were together, but he continued to get shit-faced at every party.

He would disappoint you time and time again, and even now, as your ex-boyfriend, he still manages to do it.

You cross your arms as you approach him. One of his friends notices you, slapping Rafe’s arm to get his attention.

At that moment, you wonder what he told his buddies about you. Probably that you were a crazy bitch. He certainly didn’t have any problem calling you that to your face.

Rafe looks at his friend in confusion. Then, his blue eyes land on you. The same eyes that used to slowly flutter open after you kissed him, as if he was waking up from a good dream. The same eyes that pierced into you when he screamed at you.

“So much for cutting back,” you shout over the music.

Rafe swallows the bitter alcohol and the shock of your sudden presence. He was certain you wouldn’t talk to him tonight.

And of course you look stunning, like an angel that came down from heaven deciding it was worth the sin to torture him.

“Why the fuck do you care?” He’s wearing a self-assured smirk, purposely saying exactly what you said in your text just a few minutes ago.

You roll your eyes, remembering why you came over here in the first place.

“Can I not come to a party without you annoying me?” you mutter.

“You’re the one who came to find me.”

“Because you texted me.”

“So, you’re here to tell me not to text you? What happened to blocking me?”

This is exactly what it was like dating him. Infuriating, petty arguments that only go in circles.

“You didn’t this time, huh?” he adds just to embarrass you.

You had him blocked so many times before, but after the break-up, you just couldn’t do it. Because you had hope he’d reach out. And now he’s making you feel like an idiot for it.

It feels like he’s winning this argument. You shouldn’t care. But you do.

One of the things he said the night of your break-up was that no other guy would deal with your bullshit. So, you decide to lie just to hurt him back.

“I have someone else dealing with my bullshit now,” you say. “Blocking some asshole isn’t a priority.”

Your words have an effect on him. You can tell from the way his jaw tightens. You sink into this feeling all over again, the sick familiarity of playing mind games with him.

Rafe feels his chest twist with anger. Is that where you’ve been lately? Not showing up to parties because you’re with someone else?

He steps closer, ducking his head so that only you can hear his words. His familiar cologne washes over you.

You realize he’s wearing a button-up you bought him and you wonder if he doesn’t remember it was a gift from you, or he does and he doesn’t care to place any sort of sentimental value on it.

“Since when?” he asks.

“Since when what, Rafe?” you say his name with a sharp coldness.

“Since when have you been with someone else?”

You decide to provoke him and let the lie build.

“A while.”

Rafe’s lips thin. He takes your hand and you should pull away, you should want to, but you let him lead you through the crowd into a dark, quieter hallway.

You’re soon against a wall, looking up at him, his eyes darting across your face as the softened music reverberates through the air.

“What’s a while?” he says. “Did it start when we were together?”

You sigh and glance away.

“Don’t look away from me,” he orders. “Answer the fucking question.”

“For the millionth goddamn time, I am not a cheater,” you say. He used to accuse you of unfaithfulness all the time. You meet his angry gaze. “I met him after.”

“Who is he?”

“You don’t know him.”

Rafe plants his hand on the wall next to your head, leaning over, his intensity burning through you.

“I know everybody,” he mutters.

“What, ‘cause you’re so popular?” you scoff.

“You’re lying,” he says. He hopes.

“Sure, whatever, I’m lying,” you reply indifferently with a shrug. “Believe what you want. I’m going now.”

You start to turn, but he boxes you in, his other hand firm on the wall. You knew he’d stop you. It’s why you pretended to leave.

You look up at him through your lashes. His pupils are blown. Your entire body is buzzing.

You miss him. Of course you do. As toxic as you were, as many times as you told yourself this relationship was unhealthy, you miss him.

“Who is he?” he rasps.

“Why?” you say through gritted teeth. “You want to ruin another thing for me?”

“What the fuck have I ruined for you?”

“I lost friends because of you,” you say.

A smile of disbelief grows on Rafe’s face.

He always loved you more. He knows that. And you accused him of isolating you from your friends when all he wanted to do was spend time with you.

It’s not his fault you don’t know how a relationship works. You should want to be with your boyfriend more than your friends. Especially when those friends try to get it in your head that your boyfriend doesn’t deserve you. That you’re too good for him.

What guy wouldn’t want his girl to stop hanging out with friends who just shit-talk him?

“Those weren’t friends,” he says. “What kind of friends want to fuck up your relationship?”

“It was already fucked up,” you respond. “They just helped me see it. But I still cut them off. For you. For nothing.”

Rafe blinks a few times before parting his lips to speak again. Nothing. That’s what he is to you?

His chest aches. He wants to return the favor. He wants to hurt you back.

“You’re so fucking weak,” he says, tapping your temple. You slap him away. “You’ll believe anything.”

It’s a slam to your heart.

“There’s something wrong with you,” you say. “Anyone who can tolerate you for as long as I did is the farthest thing from weak.”

You managed to hit him back just as hard. The way he pauses is a clear sign of it.

“That’s all it was, huh? Tolerating me?” he mutters.

You nod, your breath unsteady.

“Was it tolerating me when I bought you every single fucking thing you wanted?”

“I never asked you to do any of that,” you counter. Your voice has lost its edge. The reminder of how he used to spoil you with gifts and spa days and getaways has cracked your armor a little bit.

“You loved it, though, didn’t you?” he scoffs, shaking his head. “And you loved thanking me for it.”

Your skin pricks with the reminder. The way your lips pressed against his, limbs tangled together in his bed, kissing and fucking and breathing out dirty praise.

He’s thinking of it, too. You can tell because when he brushes up against you, he’s hard. It makes your body go even hotter.

Rafe’s been wondering what you did with all the gifts he got you. His eyes sweep over your body, half-hoping he’ll see a piece of jewelry he bought. But he comes up empty.

He fucking loved it, the way your eyes lit up whenever he got you a gift for no reason. But right now, your eyes are full of hatred.

You still haven’t said anything. Your chest is rising and falling quickly. He struck a chord and he’s going to keep pulling the string.

“Gave you that princess treatment shit, didn’t I?” he murmurs.

You bite the inside of your cheek. You said that whenever he bought you anything or did something sweet. It had become a joke between you two. It’s almost unbelievable that the man towering over you right now is capable of doing anything sweet.

“What, you can’t talk now?” Rafe taunts in his typical frustrating way.

“I hate you,” you mutter.

“Yeah?” he laughs. “You said the opposite the last time I saw you.”

You tense up. It’s true. Albeit angrily, you had said you loved him after he accused you of not giving a shit about him during your last argument.

He didn’t say it back. He hardly ever did. He used his body and his credit card to show you his love. It was always a dark cloud that hung over you, the way he couldn’t just say those three words nearly as much as you did.

Even now, he can’t even say the word. He said the opposite. Because he’s so damn emotionally stunted.

You try to regain whatever power you have left.

“Things change,” you respond. “And I’m better off now.”

Rafe leans closer, eyebrows just slightly raising as he stares at you.

His heart is pounding. His legs are weak. He’s panicked that you’ll reject him, but he can’t control the pull you have on him. The fact that you’re walking around and existing and not being with him is agony.

He feigns confidence, his nose gently nudging against yours, his lips less than an inch away now.

“Can he fuck you as good as I can?” he asks. Your core aches with a hard craving for him.

“I just said I’m better off, didn’t I?” you reply.

Rafe’s stomach curls in pain. The thought of another man tasting you, hearing you moan, being inside of you… It actually fucking hurts. You’re his. You’re not supposed to be anybody else’s.

“You need a reminder,” he says tersely, “of how good I make you feel.”

Your breath catches. You’d be stupid to do this. You just bring out the worst in each other. Having sex will undo all the healing you’ve done.

But, because of this sick effect he has on you, you listen to the voice telling you that one last time will be a proper goodbye.

“You’re wasted,” you say. You already felt his hard-on brush against you, but challenging him is too addictive not to do it. “You sure you can even get it up?”

Instead of being pissed off, Rafe does the most attractive thing he possibly can. And it’s infuriating. He smirks, grinding up against you, his hard lust pressed right between your legs.

“When have I ever had a problem with that?” he murmurs.

And finally, finally, he leans forward, pressing his warm lips on yours, and tasting him is like coming home after a trip you never wanted to go on.

You sink into his touch, letting yourself enjoy this temporary high, letting yourself give into the impulse to drag your hands up his hard torso, palms running over the expensive fabric you bought for him.

You tightly cup the sides of his neck. He pushes you by your waist, up against the wall so hard that your back tinges in pain.

This is what this will be. A hard, angry, rough goodbye. One last struggle for power.

You push him off, your lips parting with a smack.

“Find a room,” you order him.

His grip on your wrist is tight as he takes you to a guest room near the back of the house. He shuts the door and pushes you down onto the bed, chest heaving as he looks at you on your back, propped up on your elbows, watching him as he undoes his belt.

You gaze up at him as he breathes heavily, unzipping his pants and letting the buckle fall to the floor with a thud. He palms himself over his boxers, shaking his head at you.

“You can’t take your own damn clothes off?” he mutters.

The fire in you blazes hotter when he leans over you, pulling the button of your jeans out of the loop, zipping down, roughly tugging the waistband down your legs.

Part of the reason you waited for him to do it is because you’re so struck by the way he looks, angry and horny and handsome. But mostly, it’s because if he undresses you, it’s proof of how badly he wants this, how badly he wants you, and you miss that feeling.

Rafe is light-headed simply at the sight of your bare thighs. How can you make him feel like this and not be in his life anymore, just like that?

Once your pants are off, you tug him down to you by his hips, using all your strength to pull yourself up over him.

Rafe could easily withstand you, but he doesn’t want to. This was the best part of your relationship. The battle for control. It’s always been intoxicating.

He’s on his back while you’re propped up on your knees, straddling him, looking down at him, at the way your fingers look splayed on his chest.

He dreamed about seeing you on top of him again. His ex-girlfriend, the only person who’s just as fucked up as he is, the only one who challenges him in such an infuriatingly perfect way. Now, you’re just another person who’s given up on him.

“I know you missed this,” he says with a craven refusal to admit that he missed it himself.

“Feels like you missed it more.” You grind against him, but your middle is hot and wet, and you’re sure he can feel it.

You tug at his shirt, undoing buttons but eventually getting impatient enough to rip apart the last two that remain.

Rafe expels a pissed off tsk. This is his favorite thing you gave him. It’s typical, your recklessness, your refusal to care about the consequences he’s left to live with.

Some of his anger dissipates when you bend to kiss him, your tongue running over his. He grips your ass, fingers dipping under your panties as your kisses grow in roughness, starting to nip at each other’s lips, rushed and hungry.

You pull at the sleeves of his shirt, tugging so he’s left in his boxers only. He pushes your shirt up as you remain bent over him, squeezing your tits over your bra. You hate to give him the satisfaction of your moan, so you keep it in, scrambling to take your shirt off.

His fingers move expertly as he unhooks your bra just like he always did before. You hate that your mind jumps to wondering if he’s taken off any other girl’s clothing lately.

You lied about having a new boyfriend. You know he’s not above lying, either. You wouldn’t dare ask if he’s done this since your break-up. Because it’ll show you care. And because his answer, lie or not, could destroy you.

Your bra is thrown onto the floor and rough hands dip to the backs of your thighs, pushing you so that your chest is right over his face, giving him a chance to put his mouth on you as you hover over him on your hands and knees.

His tongue is hot over your nipple and this time, you can’t stifle your moan. He smirks against you, locking his lips around the peak of your breast, kneading the other, just hard enough to hurt in a good way.

You’re so mad at him for ruining things between you. It’s unfair that someone who knows your body and soul so well is so fucking cruel.

You want to drown your anger in him, in the pleasure you know he can give you. You sit up to take off your panties and shift higher this time so that your knees are pressed against his ears.

You lower and the second you feel his mouth between your legs, you shudder. It’s even better than you remembered.

Rafe looks up at the perfect sight of you sitting over him, eating you out with fast, desperate licks and sucks, tasting you, savoring you.

Your thighs start to lose their strength and you sink slightly, putting more of your weight on his chin, and the groan that escapes from his mouth onto your clit makes you lose all composure.

His hands keep your thighs pinned so you follow his lead, fully sitting on him now, grinding against his mouth. Your fingers lace in his hair, pulling at the roots, every writhe of yours getting harder.

This is a fucking dream come true to him. You’ve done this before, but you’ve never been this rough. You were always afraid to hurt him even during angry sex. This is different.

You roll your hips and the sensation of his nose bumping against your clit sends sparks of pleasure throughout your body. You’re soaked from your own arousal and his spit, sliding over his mouth.

It’s impossible to hold back your moans now. You let the groans of how good you feel spill out of your throat, mixed with the sounds of his mouth on you and the music blasting from the front of the house.

Rafe’s fingers dig into your thighs, his tongue flattened for you so you can get the pleasure you need. You look down, meeting his eyes while you ride his face, the tension and lust and frustration you share thick in the air.

You slow down, arching your back so he’ll work your clit how you want him to. You don’t even need to tell him. He knows you so damn well, his lips locking around the most sensitive part of your body, sucking and slurping so hard that you start to tremble.

“Just like that,” you whimper. His jaw was starting to get sore, but your praise spurs him to keep going. You adjust your grip on his hair, throwing your head back as his suction grows even harder.

Your thighs press against his cheeks as you start to dissolve into your orgasm. Rafe’s not letting that happen. You’re not getting yours until he gets his.

He pushes your hips up and a frustrated whine tumbles from your mouth. He’s so hard it hurts, roughly guiding you onto your back, the mattress bouncing with how hard he throws you down.

Rafe stares at you with hard eyes as he pulls off his boxers, his cock springing out, holding himself at his base as he guides himself against your entrance.

His exhale is short and sharp as he plunges into you. It feels so damn right to have him inside you, on top of you. The way he sounds, the way he smells. It’s just right.

“You like that?” he mutters, thrusting hard with no build-up to his fast pace.

“Yeah,” you whisper. He revels in the feeling of your heat wrapped around him. Inside you is his favorite place to be. That’s never changed.

“Where’s that attitude now, huh?”

“I don’t have an attitude,” you argue breathily, your body jolting with his thrashes.

“Not when I’m eating you out,” he says. “Not when I’m fucking you.”

“I don’t have an attitude,” you repeat.

He grips your jaw aggressively, fucking you in a frenzy, fingers squeezing your cheeks so hard that your lips jut out into a pout.

“Yes, you fucking do,” Rafe says, panting. “You think you’re so fucking perfect, don’t you?”

“I’m better than you,” you reply.

“You’re insufferable,” he murmurs. “Fucking insufferable.”

The pressure of him thrusting into you, the way he’s holding you and breathing and groaning, pushes you into a mind-blowing orgasm, your entire body tensing.

You’re in a daze, knowing he’s close by the way his movements are starting to grow sloppier.

“Then why were you with me?” The words are out of your mouth before you can even think about if you should say them.

Rafe’s wet mouth is on yours, tasting like himself and like you, a combination of two people who never should have met. You’re sure that you’d both be better off.

He comes hard, going still on top of you, groaning against your lips. Once he pulls back, his breaths hot on your neck, he finally answers, echoing what you’ve said to him so many times. But this time, you’re the victim of the insult.

“Because there’s something wrong with me,” he says.

Your throat thickens with tears. It’s the truth. And the truth is painful.

“Get the fuck off of me,” you mutter, pushing him off. You promise yourself that tonight is the last time that you’ll ever feel him on top of you, feel him pulling out of you.

You can’t get your clothes on fast enough. Even though this is an old flame, it has the same amount of power to scald you.

“Thought you weren’t a cheater,” he grumbles behind you as you slide on your panties.

“This was a mistake,” you say. “And it’s the last time I’m making it.”

Your words sting. He thought this was make-up sex. That you had a little bit more fight in you for him, and then you’d walk out of this room on his arm. But you really are done.

You pull on your bra next, fingers trembling, knowing you’ll regret it if he hears you cry. You put your shirt on as he remains lying behind you, surely relaxed now that he got what he wanted.

You stand to pull up your jeans, finally meeting his eyes again.

“Why did you even text me?” you mutter. You loathe that a tiny part of you hopes he says it’s because he misses you.

But you’re glad he doesn’t. Because you two just start each other’s fires and douse them in gasoline, burning each other over and over. He simply says, “I wanted to fuck and I knew you’d let me.”

Rafe said it just to hurt you because you called this a mistake. The way you look down as you pretend to focus on buttoning your jeans tells him it worked.

“Don’t text me again,” you say. “Don’t call me. Don’t contact me at all.”

“You scared your new boyfriend’s gonna see?” he says, pretending to be unaffected, pushing past the hurt.

You cross the room and look at him one last time as you turn the door handle. You decide to say the most honest thing you’ve said to him tonight.

“I’m scared I’ll fall for your bullshit again,” you admit. “We’re bad for each other. If there’s any part of you that has a heart, you’ll realize that and you’ll leave me alone.”

For once, Rafe is rendered speechless. He gave you his whole damn heart and for you to insinuate he might not even have one is the last dig he needs to shatter him.

Just like the night this ended in his car, you leave. But you mean it this time.

Because something that was actually meant to be would not hurt this much.

(part two)

inspired by this ask and this ask by @diorjadore

[thegnomelord]

Ok, so I loved your dragon reader/ dragon price fic. The detailed courting rituals got me thinking about how different members of TF 141 react to a s/o who has different courting rituals than them.

The one rolling around in my mind rn is Gaz (which I'm pretty sure is a harpy or bird hybrid of some kind) with a dragon reader.

So Gaz tries to court reader through a more fancy version of pebbling. But, instead of giving cool rocks and sticks, it's gemstones and weapons. Yknow, expensive/fancy things that Gaz thinks the reader might want to add to his hoard.

Btw do you have an anon list? If so, is 👑 anon available?

I don't have an anon list yet but you're welcome to be 👑anon!

It's cool to think how they'd try to court you. I hc that werewolves, and Johnny by extension, are really straightforward. Like sitting way too close, hands roaming over your body, trying to lick into your mouth and going "Hey wanna make more of us?"

Ghost, the poor thing, is completely fucked bc he was human before becoming a wraith, how the Hell is he supposed to know? Que him going through Wikipedia articles and watching documentaries of your species courting and mating (having to rub one out imaging you and him in that position ofc) and just stumbling through the whole courting thing.

CW:NSFW

But Gaz? Oooh Gaz—

Safe to say he's fallen ass over tits for you.

It's the way you take care of them, of him, of the monstrous strength used to defend them turning velvet soft when Gaz needs emotional support that has his harpy hindmind demanding to lock you down before a competitor snatches you away.

Only problem — you're not a harpy. And Gaz has no idea how courtship works, as when he asks Price about it (under the guise of just being curious) the old fart just gives him an amused look and tells him to figure it out.

Though harpies and dragons are two different species, he figures there must be some similarities, so he figures to listen to the old fairy tales about your kind and looks for the shiniest thing he can find, because Harpies court by giving gifts and dragons like to hoard and both of them like shiny stuff right?

You're confused like Hell when one day you wake up to find a silver ring with a shiny amethyst sitting on your windowsill. You know for a fact it's not yours as the instinct to catalogue every item in your hoard is as old as the draconic blood running through your veins and you'd remember if you had it.

When you make sure it's not stolen and no owner can be found, (because who'd wear that type of ring in a military base?) you decide to keep it, failing to notice how the way Gaz's pupils get bigger when you put the ring in your pocket.

It is a nice ring, the shine of the gemstone tickling your brain in a pleasant way. The military doesn't allow dragons to have large hoards, most of the items you've gathered over the decades and centuries safely hidden in vaults, but it feels good to have a small hoard in your den.

You expect this to be a one off event. But. No. Every few weeks you find a new thing on your windowsill, from gems to guns to additions to weapons you've expressed you'd like to get. Each new thing leaves you scratching your head, annoyance growing bit by bit as there's never enough scent on the items to track the culprit down and it's not like you can turn the base upside down looking for them (again).

You're unsure how to feel; it's obvious someone is trying to court you, but it definitely can't be Price because no dragon would go about it like this. But you have to admit it's nice to be desired, regardless how odd the method may be.

Then you notice how Gaz has started acting. . . different. He'll ruffle his feathers and flutter his wings more than usual when you two are alone, purposely stretch more often to make your eyes naturally draw to him, sticking to your side as he talks about everything and anything under the sun.

You're also not a fool. You can figure out it's a harpy's way of trying to show off, but without any open hostility you can only assume he's trying to court you. And you let him, you like his presence and the sound of his voice, the way he gives you a lopsided smile and the way his dark feathers shine like onyx gems when the light hits them juuust right and the way he flushes and stutters when your tail wraps around his leg.

Then one late evening when you're doing paperwork you catch sight of something behind your window in the corner of your eye. Like a flash you're opening the window, your clawed hand gripping Gaz's hand before he can scatter.

Gaz's wings spread out wide, a surprised squawk leaving him as he looks into your slitted eyes. "Uh-, I, eh- Hi?" He says, gulping, his newest gift, a very shiny ruby, held in his hand. But what draws your eye are his dark feathers.

You let out an amused snort, "Hello." You purr, leaning in so your faces are close, enjoying the way he flushes from the proximity. "So you're the little thief that's been visiting me."

Gaz's feather puff up to make his silhouette twice as big, his eyes narrowing, a hurt and angry look spreading across his features. "I'm no thief!" He says, insulted that you'd suggest he can't get you gifts on his own. "I-"

"You are," You hum, reaching out your other hand to hold his jaw, and even with his anger he feels his mind croon at how softly you touch him. "You're in the process of stealing my heart."

"Oh." Is the most intelligent thing he can come up with, his pupils blowing wide like he'd just seen the shiniest thing in his life. "Oh."

"Yes," You shrug and pull your hand back to yank one of your scales out of your shoulder, giving it to him as you take the ruby. "Keep this safe for me, yeah?" You hum and then you let him go, going back to your work while he's left dumbstruck, clutching the scale close to his chest.

When it finally settles in his head that you'd just given him a gift, that you'd reciprocated, and given him a shiny gift, oh he's treating that scale like it's the most precious thing in his world. He keeps it close to him, cooing to it in the privacy of his room, keeping it on his pillow so he can fall asleep with your scent in his nose.

He also doubles down on the gifts, but now he's very open about it, to the point you'll have him randomly come into your office to give you something shiny or another weapon, preening so prettily when you praise the thing he's brought back, nuzzling into your neck and fluffing up his feathers. His heart swoons when you show him the small hoard you've made with all the things he's brought you, and you end up spending the entire evening with him cuddled up to you, chirping happily.

"Hey, can I see that scale I gave you?" You ask after a couple of weeks, curious to see how he's treated it.

"Uh, sure." Gaz can swear his heart's beating like a war drum as he watches you inspect your scale, checking for scratches or cracks.

But you find none, it's still as shiny as the day you'd given it to him. Maybe even shinier.

You smile and before he can do anything you pull him close to you by a hand on his hip. "Very well done, little thief." You hum, kissing him. Gaz melts against you, not even your lips able to muffle the happy chirps and croons that escape his chest.

You spend the next few months getting familiar with each other's bodies, lazy evenings spent with your clawed hands preening his wings, Gaz steadily melting into the bed with every brush of your fingers. Kyle taking a few extra minutes in the morning to rub his face between your wing, chirping and crooning.

Harpy mating season comes around and you're caught off guard when you come to your room to find your covers and pillows and entire wardrobe on the ground, turned into a makeshift nest with a very naked, and very horny, Gaz sitting in the middle of it.

His eyes are hazy but he knows you're there the second your scent hits his nose, the most desperate sound you've ever heard leaving his lips, bruised from how hard he'd been biting them to reign his noises in, to keep them only for you.

"Mate-" Kyle whines, shuffles in the nest that has the pretty gems he'd gifted you strewn amongst the fabric, "-need you, please- I-"

One more needy sound is all it takes to have you tumbling naked into the nest in record time, deep guttural purrs answering his pleased coos. He presses flush against you, seeking out your mouth, whole body burning up and his thighs shaking, his cock rock hard.

"I got you, pretty thief." You rumble, pulling him into your lap, his wings spreading out and feathers puffing up, as if he needs to make himself look even more desirable. "What do you need Kyle?"

"Need you," Kyle whines, pawing at your own erection, desperate fingers shaking as he strokes you, "Please- hurts, I need- mate."

You shush him with sweet kisses, your hand sliding down to very carefully stretch him open while avoiding injuring him with your claws, your mind purring at how willingly he opens up for you, wings and limbs shaking as he whimpers against your lips, his mind steadily leaking from his cock.

"You're alright," You calm him when you pull your fingers out, positioning him so your cock head rests against his entrance, not missing how Kyle preens at your strength. "Going to breed you right, gonna take care of you."

"Yes, yes, yes!" Kyle moans are loud as you steadily push your cock into him, his walls clamping down on every inch of your length. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank- mate." His claws dig into your shoulders, clutching you tight as you bottom out in him, his hole clenching you in sync with his ragged breathing.

"I'm here," You hum, barely able to think, "Just relax, let me take care of you." You say, feeling him relax into you, and with deep purrs and lots of praise you begin to fuck him, moving him like a fleshlight on your cock, letting him moan and groan and scream his heart out uncaring who hears it, your ancient blood singing at the thought of his noises being a testament to your abilities as a mate.

Then the tight heat and the scent and just Kyle has your mind forgetting how to think, your body moving on it's own to show Kyle he'd picked a good mate.

[yourlocallyneysimp]

Just them laying on your thighs, lol

Characters: Scaramouche, Kazuha, Ayato, Venti, Dottore, Lyney, Xingqiu

A/N: Just posting this because my legs are skinny af and my thighs are nonextistant- I also had too much fun writing Dottore and Lyney's parts. 💀

Scaramouche:

Scaramouche thought it would be funny to embarrass you by laying on your thighs, but he ended up getting embarrassed himself.

He made sure no one was around before he approached his plan so he didn't hurt his pride, so taking his chance he layed down. He studied your facial expressions carefully thinking he had won, but instead of gettting flustered, you just looked down and smiled at him. This surprised him since he really thought you would get uncomfortable, but instead you were so casual with it as if this was a normal occurence. He immediately gets up trying to hide his red face, but it's before long that he's laying on your lap again.

Kazuha:

Kazuha usually likes to show his affection for you in private so when you two are alone he likes to hold hands, kiss, lay on your lap, etc.

Laying on your lap is usually a normal thing for him to do, especially if the weather is fairly nice that day. Sometimes he even falls asleep, and most of the time he tells you about haikus he came up with. Honestly this man love to lay on your thighs any chance he could get. That part of your body is reserved for him and him only.

Ayato:

Usually Ayato doesn't have time to show his affection towards you since he's always busy, so most of the time he leaves notes for you to find to remind you about taking care of yourself. When his energy finally fails on him, he would lay on your lap for comfort since he just needs some rest. He would also come looking for you if he's also stressed.

He would apologize after saying that he didn't mean to invade on your personal space, but you always deny all of that since you enjoy comforting him.

Venti:

Venti has no shame, he will lay on your lap anytime and anywhere. Sometimes you have to push him off because I bet 100 bucks he'll do it in front of your whole family. He wants everyone to know that you're his and his only so he finds this a reasonable way to prove it. He also just likes the feeling of your thighs since they are so squishy. You're basically his personal pillow if I'm being completely honest.

Dottore:

Dottore thinks affection is a waste of time even if he has a partner, so he won't show you much. That doesn't mean he don't love you though! He just finds it embarrassing.

When one of his experiments failed, you noticed that he seemed annoyed and very stressed since he was so confident that it was going to be a success. Seeing him pacing around the room worried you since you don't like seeing him in this state, so getting his attention you called him over to sit next to you. Annoyed, he thought you were just going to lecture him about being careful since his experiment literally exploded, but instead you just asked for him to lay down. Confused, he was just like: "Lay down where? Tf you talkin about-"

Without hesitating you gently guided his head to your lap and started petting his hair. He was tense at first, but slowly relaxed. He would lecture you about how unprofessional it was of you to be doing this to a harbinger, but you ignored it since you knew he was secretly enjoying it.

Congratulations, now he will fail experiments on purpose just so he can lay on your lap again.👍(Even though he can just ask-)

Lyney:

Lyney thinks that laying on your lap is like a reward, so whenever he achieves something or when one of his performances are a success, he'll just plop his head right on your thighs.

He enjoys laying on your thighs a little too much since he literally won't get up even if you have to go do something important.

"Lyney, I have to g-"

"Nope"

"Bu-"

"Nuh uh"

If someone tries to drag you away while he's enjoying his prize, he would glare at then until they go away. He won't let anyone take his reward away from him.

Xingqiu:

Xingqiu always finds himself laying on your thighs when he's reading a book since he claims it makes him read better and that it's also relaxing. Knowing this is a lie, you let him do it anyway.

Whenever he lays down on your thighs in public, you could tell that his best friend, Chongyun always gets uncomfortable and fidgety, but he'll eventually get used to seeing your affection towards each other.