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beautifulbows924 · 3 days
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Common Ground
Act One!Astarion x Gender Neutral!Reader
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Masterlist
Word Count: 650+
A/N: This fic is sort of a combination of a few of the (comparatively) similar requests I received, along with one particular scene that’s been running wild and ping ponging around in my brain for far too long. I somehow convinced my partner (who could not care less about fanfiction, but adores me) to proofread this for me. So any complaints should definitely be addressed to them—as I was, unfortunately, far too sleep deprived to read over this anymore than I already have. As always, I hope you enjoy—feel free to leave any feedback you have in the comments, and happy reading! :)
Warnings: Angst, intentional allusions to past SA (the circumstances are left purposefully vague), concerning both Astarion and the Reader, writer will often suddenly break off into unexpected poetic tangents, a smidge of fluff—if you squint, & perhaps a bittersweet ending (depending on how you interpret it?)
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“Darling”, Astarion carefully poses his words, “Are you certain that you’re quite alright?”
You’re terrified. He can see it. Your pulse is visibly thumping beneath your skin, and there’s a tremor to your hands he’s certain wasn’t there before.
But why now?
You’ve told him you trust him, demanded the others leave if they weren’t willing to accept the gift that is his company, and mere seconds ago offered yourself to him as a meal—to what you, with both intimate knowledge and first hand experience, know is a hungry vampire.
He would be questioning your sense of self preservation, or alternatively, your sanity. If he wasn’t awed by just how quickly you’ve managed to sway your companions' loyalty.
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It takes a moment for you to notice he’s asked you a question. But once you have, you nod.
He sighs, clicking his tongue at you. That vacancy behind your eyes, it’s unnerving, too familiar. “Don’t lie, it doesn’t suit you. What is it?”
Your gaze shifts, opting to search for what must be a rather interesting spot somewhere behind him.
Two breaths in.
Two breaths out.
Astarion falters. That may have been harsh—if your continued silence is anything to go by. Perhaps, he should have left the lie to rest.
“Dearest”, he works to intentionally soften his tone, shoving past the honeyed lump that rises in his throat, thickly coated with syrup. This little manipulation won’t be ending in a hand naively held between his as he leads you down unassuming crypt steps.
He knows that.
“If you’ve suddenly changed your mind about”, he gestures vaguely between himself and your neck, “I’m sure I can make do with whatever animals find themselves unluckily situated in this part of the forest.”
Humble or selfless certainly isn’t his favorite role to play, but if he wants you to be his personal guard, it seems he may have to make an exception.
“No!” You blurt out, swallowing thickly at the raised brow he sends in your direction, mouth suddenly very dry, “I—It’s not that. I swear to you.”
He tuts, “Ah, but it is something. Hmm?”
You nod again, frustrated tears building in your eyes as each attempt at an explanation falls flat.
“No, it couldn’t—it”, Astarion makes a rather exaggerated motion with both of his hands, clutching his chest in theatrical shock, “Was it Gale?”
You huff, but it’s more exasperated than annoyed.
The left side of his lips lifts.
You drag your own roughly between your teeth.
“Earlier, you made a comment about being quiet, not wanting to disturb my rest”, unsteady hands bury themselves in the fabric of your pants, “Those words, the sudden realization that someone…anyone could have access to my body like that while I slept”, your head slumps forward, “The last time—I can’t.”
Two breaths in.
Two breaths out.
Astarion’s fingers slot into place beneath your chin, tilting it upwards to look at him.
And suddenly all you can see are the differences.
Everything he is appears less forced. No longer are you merely an audience and he an actor, but equals. Those that have found a common ground built upon the cruelty of others.
Far too accustomed to it.
There’s a raw familiarity held within your expression Astarion can’t quite discern.
Perhaps, in another life, someone cared for him. Once. To look at him with such fondness.
He wonders if he deserved it, then.
He allows the hold he has on you to become lighter and lighter, until his arm returns to hang at his side.
You hear a weary sigh, then, gently, “For what it’s worth, I’m truly sorry.”
A small smile flutters across your lips, light and without expectation. It’s a kindness he hasn’t yet learned how to navigate—and certainly has not earned, but he yearns for it all the same.
“Thank you, Astarion.”
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felizusnavidad · 6 months
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"i don't think i'll ever understand musicals the way you do" is something i've heard from one of my friends a couple of days ago when i told him i'm about to cross the whole country just to see one of those (my favourite one!) live in theatre. and i can't blame him. if you'd have told me a year ago that i would do something like that, i'd probably have laughed in your face. life is so unpredictable. i guess i have changed a lot. and i could write thousands of essays about how musicals helped me get through the shittiest period of my life, but we are not going to talk about this today. today we are talking about in the heights, the first musical i got a chance to experience live in theatre, hopefully not last. so grab a cup of coffee and make yourself comfortable, this is going to be the longest essay you've ever seen, friends.
a little warning: spoilers. a lot of them actually. so if, by any chance, you haven't seen/heard it yet and you are going to, don't read it.
first thing i feel like i need to mention is that they had this mini bar inside the theatre and you could order a lot of different drinks there and one of them was called abuela's coffee. i heard one lady explaining to someone that it's actually coffee with condensed milk. my jaw dropped and i was like CAN I STAY HERE FOREVER, PLEASE? for those who don't understand why, here's a quote from the first song:
USNAVI: abuela, my fridge broke, i got café but no con leche ABUELA CLAUDIA: try my mother's old recipe: one can of condensed milk
so this was my first "OH! THEY GET IT!" moment (a little note here: i had a lot of oh, they get it moments, mostly because i don't have any people around me who understand musicals the way i do... honestly, you'd have to live inside my brain). that was the first time ever when i could actually be in the room where it happens with all those people who get it and care about it as much as i do (mostly actors and people responsible for the whole show tho, but we will get to this later).
let's get to the show. so when i finally went inside and i saw the stage, i already had tears in my eyes (don't judge me please). usnavi's store, abuela's door, daniela and carla's salon, all those puerto rican, cuban and dominican flags (one couple behind me was trying to figure out which one is which and it was funny because i knew and i wanted to scream)... listening and memorizing the whole soundtrack is one thing. being able to experience it all live is something else. all those things around me were so familiar and this was the first time in months (MONTHS! OR EVEN YEARS!) i felt really understood. after all, it was all like a little celebration of lin's story (the one i love with all my heart) and i truly felt like home. so that was another OH! THEY GET IT! moment.
i don't think i'm going to talk about every single song here, that's not the point. i will talk about my favourite moments, but also about things that didn't work very well in my opinion (again: this was a polish version so all the songs were translated into polish. and they did a really great job here, surprisingly. but it wasn't perfect, more about that later).
one thing you need to understand is that i will never be normal about musicals so of course i had to burst into tears at the very first song (i don't even know why, i think i was a little bit too excited). i was actually crying in the most random moments like when i first saw nina or at the end of carnaval del barrio because I KNEW WHAT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN NEXT (who the hell cries at carnaval del barrio when everyone is having the time of their lives lol, me apparently).
ok, so the first song. the choreography, oh my god. it was everything. the translation was also pretty good here, i need to say this was probably one of my favourite moments. imagine me leaving today giggling like a child when usnavi came on that stage and started rapping, i was in heaven. also, i have to admit, the cast was amazing. i could never imagine anyone better for this role (and again, i am talking about polish actors because everyone knows who's the best usnavi of them all). he was cute and charming and awkward and so adorkable and also really handsome. he was actually perfect in my opinion.
i kinda lost my mind when i saw nina for the first time. first of all: i already knew who was going to play her and let's just say i fell in love with this actress before i even saw her live on that stage. this was important to me, because (as some of you know) nina rosario is my favourite character. and oh my god, she was an absolute perfection. what a voice, sweet jesus. i'm being serious, this girl is so talented, give her every award (i honestly hope i will have a chance to see her again one day, i'm just crazy about her). and breathe was so good! polish version was amazing, i was so scared they would screw it up, but they didn't, so all's good (this song is very important to me, ok?). also, she's a phenomenal actress, i could feel all her emotions for real. and of course i cried, what did you expect?
i don't have that much to say about benny, except that he was really cute and he had amazing chemistry with nina, so once again, the casting was really good. i mean, he is not chris jackson of course, but i have decided i'm not going to compare all those actors because everyone knows at this point how much i love OBC, i was trying to have an open mind. vanessa was also pretty great, amazing voice and her dancing skills, wow, just wow. i could talk about all those actors for days actually, but i'm not going to do that, so i will just quickly mention that i absolutely loved daniela and carla, abuela claudia made me cry, sonny was the funniest character in the whole play and i don't think i will ever recover after piragua guy's performance (i was the only person in the audience who was laughing when he came on that stage, they don't get it, ok? polish people have no sense of humour and that's a fact). actually, there were a lot of funny moments (obviously) and i was the only person who was laughing, god help me.
so let's get to the first thing that was a little disappointing for me. you will not believe it, but it was actually... 96,000 (this is one of my favourite songs and i seriously can't live like this). it's not the translation tho (it was honestly fine), it's the voice overlapping part at the end (again, the best thing ever, just listen to we don't talk about bruno from encanto and non-stop from hamilton and you will understand why it works so well in every lmm's song). the thing is, you could actually only hear vanessa's part and i wanted to die, because EXCUSE ME. i always sing usnavi's part and you could barely hear a word from it. but apart from that, the rest was fine, the choreography was amazing and it's just something i needed to mention because i had thoughts about it.
paciencia y fe! ok besties, i have thoughts, again. abuela claudia was absolutely incredible, also, her relationship with usnavi is something that you can't see in the movie version (they were so sweet i wanted to curl up and die. i knew about it before, i saw slime tutorial with obc on yt, ok? i'm pretty sure lin would be mad at me for watching bootlegs lol. i just wanted to say this). the translation didn't work out at the very end of the song tho, because when in the og version abuela sings about the "winning ticket", everyone knows already she won the lottery. i don't remember polish translation exactly, but it was something with double meaning, depends on how you interpret it, and i'm 100% sure people who didn't know the plot just didn't catch it. the rest of the song was absolutely beautiful tho.
when you're home. i was so afraid of this one, because i am totally crazy about this song (did i ever mention lin wrote this one after one of his first dates with vanessa? no? yes? ok i'll shut up about this now). oh, they did a really great job with it and it's a relief. i have nothing else to say, except that i was crying like a baby, but this song always makes me cry so what did you expect exactly? one of the best moments for sure. again, nina and benny's chemistry was absolutely incredible.
as much as i loved the club, i was actually really disappointed with one part, which is usnavi's famous "jealous i ain't jealous, i can take all these fellas, wHaTeVaaaaa". i've been waiting so long for this! and they messed it up with their stupid cringy translation which i don't even remember at the moment but usnavi was actually mad at benny and he cursed? ANYWAY. the rest of the song was great and the choreography was absolutely phenomenal, oh vanessa! let me get the next one! (i love her so much, she was amazing here). a little note from me: no one was laughing at the "no hablo ingles" part, NO ONE BUT ME!!! THEY DON'T GET IT! WTF! i was so mad (i am aware of the fact that most people probably didn't even know this story before and they just wanted to see a musical, not THE MUSICAL, which is totally fine. but sweet jesus, where is their sense of humour? they left it at home or what?).
and blackout was that part where the voice overlapping effect worked very well, so all's good. actually, one of the best moments for me as well. people were actually so confused when all the lights went down, but that was just so amazing. all the panic! everybody was screaming, crying! WE ARE POWERLESS! THE END OF ACT I!!! oh, i had the time of my life.
i had this weird feeling that they didn't exactly know how to translate most of hundreds of stories so they just made this song shorter than it actually is. which is fine i guess. honestly, it's better than bad translation, so i can forgive them. what i absolutely can't forgive tho is that the audience wasn't laughing at US NAVY. polish people, you have no fucking taste. i said what i said. and then again, usnavi and abuela's relationship was so sweet this song actually made me cry (mostly because i knew what was coming but also, i was just this weird girl who was sitting there in the second row and was crying at the most random moments).
ok, guys, honestly. carnaval del barrio was the best moment from the entire musical. oh, how much i want to experience it again! daniela was absolutely incredible, carla was so sweet, piragua guy stole the whole fucking show for me (seriously guys! he was just so amazing!). also, those little details i have never noticed before? i can't even tell if the same thing happened in the original version (the quality of that bootleg is actually terrible), but benny dancing with american flag somewhere in the background was so fucking funny and i don't think i will ever get over that part where at the end they were all still dancing and celebrating and nina and usnavi just ran away as fast as they could because... because you guys know what just happened. also, this is the moment i started crying.
i was so scared of it. let me tell you one thing, i experienced abuela's death at least fifty times and i still cry every single time. so atención is something i have to mention, because all the emotions and kevin's shaky voice made me burst into tears right away, and this time i wasn't the only one because i saw a lot of people crying when they realized what happened (i also heard a lot of OHs when he said abuela passed away, so yes, most of them didn't know this story and they were surprised). and alabanza was something else. believe me when i tell you i am writing this with tears in my eyes, i have never cried so much in public. this was the moment i was the most scared of and i was absolutely right because holy fuck. i was a mess. all the actors with those candles singing alabanza a doña claudia! (yes, they didn't translate it, all the spanish parts were left like in the original version and i am so grateful for that), it was just so sad and so beautiful. and this time i was actually like oh, they get it now (everyone was speechless and people were crying).
everyone must know at this point how much i adore champagne and i wasn't disappointed (thank god!). once again, usnavi was absolutely adorable here and people were actually laughing this time (also thank god!). how do you get this gold shit off? (my favourite line from the whole musical) was translated really well and the moment when usnavi and vanessa kissed! with all lights on them! this was so emotional and the audience reacted so well! we were all clapping (it was so funny to pretend like i didn't know it was gonna happen haha i was just as excited as all of them and once again i was like OH! THEY GET IT!). 10/10, would recommend.
if you think i wasn't crying during the last song, think again. one thing i absolutely hate about the movie version is that they actually changed the graffiti that made usnavi stay in washington heights, but i'm not gonna talk about that and i'm not gonna talk about vanessa also being there in the movie. in the original version it was a portrait of abuela claudia made by graffiti pete and oh boy, i lost my mind (i knew about it but i still lost my mind because it was absolutely beautiful). i got the feeling it was a little rushed in our polish version, but i can forgive them because it still made me cry. also, at the very end, usnavi did not only finally acknowledge he's home, when the song was over he pretty much told the audience that we are all home right now and may i just say... i felt that. i was home. they made me believe for the first time in my life i was where i belong, and somehow that was everything.
one thing about me is that this is actually all new to me. this was my first musical i saw live in theatre (and also lin's first child, which is exactly how it was supposed to be i think), and believe me when i tell you i've never had this much fun in my entire life, not even at all the concerts of my favourite artists. it was worth every money. it was worth spending 11 hours on the train and 11 more on my way back home, which by the way we should normalize (people are doing crazy things just to see their favourite artists on the stage and it's considered normal, so why can't we consider THIS normal?). anyway, i don't expect anyone around me to understand it the way i do, but i feel like i really found my thing, and it's all because of lin-manuel miranda, our beautiful puerto rican genius. he made me believe musicals can be cool and i truly wish i could thank him for that one day.
and like i said, in the heights is my favourite story with my favourite characters and i listened to it so many times i have memorized all the little details. experiencing it live is something completely different tho and i think it's safe to say this was the best night of my entire life. even tho most of the people in the audience didn't really get it, i finally felt like i was a part of this world created by my favourite genius and for the first time ever i felt understood. so i think i can say that now: i found my island, guys, i'm there, i'm home!
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swordsandholly · 13 days
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Double Date - Double Down
NSFW | MDNI
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!plus size!reader
Word count: 4.9k
Summary: When you get a call in the middle of the afternoon from your friend begging you to fill an empty spot on a double date your initial instinct is a hard no. After all, no one wants to go on a blind double date and be surprised by the fat friend. It doesn’t help that this Simon guy is stupid fucking hot and obviously doesn’t like you - if his lack of talking is anything to go by.
A/N: Just a fun little oneshot I used as a warmup between working on chapters of future multi chapter projects.
“I said *no*.” You snap, angrily folding the washcloth in your hands.
Your friend splutters from the other side of the phone, the desperation in her voice only growing now that she’s on her fourth ask. “*Pleeeaase*! Steph backed out last minute and no one else is free-“
“How do you know I’m free?”
“You just said you were!”
You huff. She’s got you there. When she first called, you admitted you didn’t have anything going on but that was *before* she told you the plan for the night. Before she mentioned that her very, very conventionally hot military boyfriend wanted to do a little double date with his friend and one of hers. Plus, you take a least a little offense to being second choice. Really, last choice, it seems.
“Cass, you can’t just set up a blind date and take your fat friend. That’s not-“
“You’re not fat, love. You’re beautiful.” Her words drip with turned honey. You make a gagging face to yourself in the mirror. “You just need more confidence!”
You sigh loudly, pinching the bridge of your nose. You could try, for the millionth time, to explain to her the nuanced ins and outs of dating as a fat woman. The rules and stats that could rival even the most complex rpg… or you could be petty. It takes less time to be petty. “If I go, you’re paying for my drinks.”
“Johnny’s friend will probably-“
“Yeah, and when he leaves you’re paying for my tab.”
“He won’t-“
“We got a deal?”
She clicks her tongue. “*Fiiiine*.”
At least you can get wasted for free either way. A small consolation. She texts you the time and location, barely leaving you with enough time to shower and turn yourself into something presentable. Not that you really care. It’s going to be shit either way, most likely. Staring yourself down in the mirror, you suppose you could at least try to look somewhat attractive. If you’re about to get rejected (or possibly shouted at, you’ll never forget *that* horrendous interaction) you might as well feel your best.
The pub is small as you push through the front door. Casual. A couple pool tables, some darts, a large bar and few booths with stools on the outer side. You scan the room, searching for Cass’s familiar face.
“Over here!” Cass waves with a wide arc at you, a grin plastered from ear to ear. At least she’s having fun.
You take a long breath, bracing yourself for whatever is about to happen. Cass introduces you to her boyfriend - who is somehow even hotter in person. You can see why she’s so smitten with him. Johnny looks you up and down as he shakes your hand. He doesn’t comment, or make a face, or really react in any particular way, but you can feel a shift. Something in his eyes…
Maybe it’s just your imagination. You’ve always been a little over sensitive.
“Si will be back in a sec. Stepped over tae get a drink.” He flashes a grin.
You hum, quietly folding your hand as Cass pushes a cocktail for you that she preemptively ordered. Criticize her as much as you like, she knows her mixes.
“There he is.” Johnny grins, turning slightly.
You follow his gaze, heart sinking as your eyes settle on the man approaching your table. He’s massive. Tall and wide. Total brick shithouse. His face is mostly covered by a black surgical mask. A few years ago you might have questioned it but at this point you couldn’t care less, especially when his dark eyes meet yours, small flecks of gold honey catching the low bar lights. Barely styled tufts of blonde hair stick up from his head. They look like they might curl if he let it grow a little longer.
All in all, wayyyy out of your league.
He settles into his seat with all the confidence of any military man - back ramrod straight. He extends a large hand. “Simon Riley.”
You murmur your name, somewhat enthralled by the half lidded, almost bored look in his eyes. Now that he’s closer you notice a large scar splitting his left eyebrow and light, newly forming crows feet in the corners of his eyes.
“S-so you’re military, too?” You stutter, eyes trained on his the massive hand holding his glass. It’s nicely vascular, his nails are well groomed but it also looks like he could snap you in half with it.
Not that that’s entirely a bad thing - whatever that may or may not say about you.
He nods. “I’m a Lieutenant.”
“Oh! Officer position. So you’re smart, then?” You try to be charming, to give him a sweet smile and keep your body language open.
“Enough.” He deadpans. It takes a few beats for you to realize he’s not going to say anything else.
“Uh…” You squirm awkwardly under his gaze. It’s intense - his dark eyes nearly black in the low light of the bar. “I do hair.”
Conversation is slow, to say the least. The longest answer he gives you is maybe five words. He only flips up the mask long enough to take a sip of his drink every so often. You start to talk less, opting toward a group conversation in which Johnny takes the lead, which he is obviously very good at. He regales you and Cass with a few stories of his and Simon’s adventures. Some funny, some brave, some worrying. He’s setting the man up to be a god, nearly, but Simon himself just shakes his head and insists Johnny is exaggerating.
You wonder what he sees in Simon. Alternatively, you wonder what *you’re* supposed to see in Simon. Besides his good looks, of course. He’s… bland. Obviously bored if his constant glances toward the exits and rhythmic, occasional tapping on the corner of the table are anything to go by.
“Want tae go dance, lovie?” You overhear Johnny as he leans in toward Cass.
She glances at you, then Simon, then back to you before nodding enthusiastically. “We’ll give you two some time *alone*.”
In any other situation, you’d probably beg her to stay in desperation for a conversation buffer. Here and now, though, you’re grateful. You can finally let this poor guy off the hook. You wait until they’re gone; fully out of earshot before turning to the man in front of you.
“I…uh… look…” You chew your lip, glancing between him and your folded hands on the table. “Sorry… I know I’m probably not what, uh, what you expected… I get it if you want to leave. It’s - you don’t have to stay, or whatever. Don’t have to be polite…”
He cocks an eyebrow, eyes boring through your skull. “Why would I want to leave?”
“I know what I look like. You don’t have to be nice.”
His raised brow turns into a slight frown. “I think you’re quite pretty.”
You scoff - blushing despite yourself. “Again, you don’t have to be nice.”
“Do I seem like the type to just be nice?”
You continue to gnaw at your lip. He’s got you there. Simon definietly doesn’t come off as the type to bow to polite society. “You’ve barely talked to me.”
He stares for a moment. It’s his turn to avert his eyes, swirling around the whiskey in his glass awkwardly. Almost bashfully. “It’s not you. I’m… not great in public… especially in crowds…”
Oh.
*Oh*.
You’ve completely misjudged him, haven’t you? Shit. He’s just a big awkward lug isn’t he?You sigh, rubbing your temple. “Oh God, *I’m* the asshole, aren’t I?”
He chuckles, “I wouldn’t go that far.”
“I’m sorry it’s just…” you scrub a hand over your face. “Most men don’t really want to be surprised with a fat girl on a blind date. Guess I assumed the worst.”
Simon hums. A low vibration that settles into your bones. He gets up, sliding into the booth side of the table beside you - his massive frame pushing into your space. He smells like spices. Cinnamon and pepper. A little hint of leather and tobacco underneath. It’s heady, and some primal part of your mind wishes you could roll around in it like a dog.
“Some men might like a waifish little thing, that’s their business, but personally…” He leans in, a large hand resting on your wide thigh. “Yeah. I like somethin’ I can get a proper handful of.”
“*Oh*.” You squeak, back stiff. Was that what you saw in Johnny’s face before? Approval?
“‘Ere’s a thought - we go back to mine. S’quiet. Can talk more freely. See where the night goes, hm?”
You smile hesitantly, finally looking up to meet his gaze. It’s honest. Kind. Dark pools of sincerity. It’s against your better judgement. Impractical. Out of character. Even so, you allow yourself to surrender with a warmth in your cheeks and a small nod.
“I’ll get an Uber.” He pulls out his phone, tapping away. “Five minutes out.”
“Want to wait outside?” You offer, nodding toward the front entrance. Simon just nods, following you out close behind. Neither of you say much of anything while you wait, but you watch him out of the corner of your eye. He taps on his leg a few times in much the same way as he did on the table.
He dutifully opens the car door for you, letting you slide in before climbing in beside you, long legs slightly cramped in the small sedan.
“You don’t live on base?” You ask as the Uber drives away from the infamous military housing. You’d been there once or twice - a while ago when you were younger and messier.
“S’too loud.” He shrugs. “Too crowded.”
“Well, at least you’re consistent.” You smile.
Simon hums, resting his hand on your thigh once again. It’s casual, not too high up or too much pressure. Not presumptuous.
“How’d Johnny get you out there in the first place? If you’re so *averse*.” You tilt your head.
He shrugs, “Was supposed to be another Sergeant we work with but I guess he cancelled. No one else was free.”
“Ah, so we’re both last choices, then.”
“Yeah?”
“Made Cass promise me free drinks if I came.”
“Smart girl.” He chuckles, holding out a hand to help you up out of the car upon your arrival. His hand is warm when you take it, and a small part of you feels disappointed when he lets go.
The building is small. Old. All red brick with a thirty year old intercom and an elevator that you’re pretty sure hasn’t been inspected since the place was built. About halfway down the hall, you start to second guess yourself. You don’t know a thing about this guy - you don’t know what’s going to happen as soon as you get on the other side of his door. His weird, bright red door. Wait - why is this whole floor covered in red doors?
“Alright?” He grunts, back turned to you as he wrestles with the lock.
“Uh - why is your floor color themed?”
Simon laughs, wide shoulders shaking with the movement. It’s a low sound, something that vibrates in his chest. Makes you want to press your ear to it, see how it feels. If it will reverberate into your bones as well. “The old lady that owns the building is a bit… unique. Likes to talk about colors and karma and destiny stuff.”
“Ah.” You nod, as if that makes any sense at all. “So you’re red?”
“Apparently.”
His apartment is actually quite homey, as you step into it. From a stiff military man like him you expected something akin to an ikea floor model. Instead it’s furnished with a well worn, green couch. A large TV with an extremely up-to date surround sound system and an entertainment center filled to the brim with CDs sits against the wall. A few movie posters fill the walls. All horror classics - you count three of the scream movies. The first two final destination. There are condensation rings on the coffee table.
Behind you, you hear the door lock and unlock three times, but you don’t pay it much mind.
“Want a drink?” Simon asks, already popping open a decanter full of something gold on a small drink cart beside the kitchen island.
“Sure.” The agreement is automatic - blurted out before you can second guess taking a drink from a total stranger.
You watch a little too closely as he takes off his light jacket, exposing his strong arms and a half sleeve tattoo. It’s a bit tacky, all skulls and military symbols. The black ink has been sun worn over time. The motif of a young getting his first tattoo after enlisting. He settles down on the couch with the decanter and two glasses, patting the spot beside him. You plop down. It’s pretty comfortable, honestly.
His fingers loop into the mask’s straps. You find yourself watching with wide eyes and bated breath as he removes it. His nose is crooked - broken more than a couple times, you think. There’s a scar running from his nose to upper lip that could only come from a cleft palette. It’s charming, in a way. When he turns toward you, you notice a patch on the side of his face that looks like a rather large burn all the way down to his sharp jaw. The roughness of him works, somehow. The scars and tattoos and choppy hair all coming together to create the visage of a life hard lived.
“You’re really pretty…” the words slip from your tongue before you can stop them.
Simon splutters out a laugh, the slightest hint of color appearing across his cheeks. “Didn’t take you for a flatterer.”
“I’m not.” You huff before nodding toward the posters. “Horror fan?”
He hums, passing you a glass. “Are you a fan? Of horror, I mean.”
“Found footage!” You grin a little too excited. “It’s the best genre.”
“Terrible taste.” He scoffs.
“Wrong! Found footage can be anything you want it to be - slasher, thriller, mystery, mocumentary. Anything.”
“Which makes them messy.” He argues. “Anyone can make one.”
“Yeah! Theres so many hidden gems out there.”
“Whatever you say.”
“Oh, I’ll put you on them. We just need to get you a good one.”
“Askin’ me on a second date already, love?”
“Oh, fuck off.” You shove at his shoulder. He was right, it is so much easier to talk freely out of the bar. Away from everyone and everything. His posture is far more relaxed, laid back into the couch with his hips canted forward rather than stiff as a board.
“We could watch one now?” He offers. If you were more sober, you might have heard the twinge of pleading in his voice. As it stands you’ve already drained the glass he gave you and are perfectly buzzed enough to be ignorant to the subtler parts of communication.
How convenient.
“Okay.” You whisper.
After a bit of debating back and forth you settle on Hell House. After all, it’s been your tried and true method for getting anyone and everyone into the genre. You don’t notice it, at first, but you slowly begin to scoot closer to him as you fold your knees up on the couch. Eventually, tucking yourself under his arm sling across the back cushions. Between him and the drinks - which you’re pretty sure is a rather fancy bourbon - you feel what could only be described as snuggly. Limbs loose and pliant, smile easy and words flowing as you cheer and jeer at the characters together.
At some point, Simon’s dark eyes meet between yours. You lean in, so does he. Inch by inch until your lips meet. It’s tentative, at first. Testing the waters. His lips are soft and move expertly against yours. You part for him has his tongue darts across your lower lip.
It’s easier than it usually is for you. Easy to let him pull you over his lap. To rest your hands on his broad shoulders as you take each other in. Normally, you’re not a person for one night stands. A commitment kind of gal. You can’t exactly say no, though, when you have a beautiful man’s hands traveling over your body like it’s the only thing in the world worth paying attention to right now.
He breaks the kiss just long enough to grunt, “Bedroom?”
“*Yes*.” You gasp between kisses.
Suddenly those large hands grasp under your ass as you’re hauled up. You grapple to hold onto the back of his neck, keeping your weight forward.
“Simon!”
“Yes, love?” He asks as if he didn’t just life you like a sack of potatoes.
“A-aren't I heavy?” You question as he makes his way through the apartment, peppering kisses over your neck and jaw.
“No.” He replies bluntly. Like what you asked was stupid.
You’re placed on a bed with all the gentleness of a rare china plate- one hand cradling your upper back and the other tucked under your thighs. There isn’t any time to take in the room before Simon is kissing you again but you do count approximately five pillows and zero navy sheets.
That shouldn’t be as hot as it is.
Simon leans in close, nose ever so slightly bumping yours. “Before we keep going, I want to establish a rule. Red light means stop. At any time, for any reason.”
You can’t help but smile. “Okay.”
“Say it back, doll.”
“Red light means stop.” You reach up and cup his face. So handsome. So warm.
“Good girl.” He murmurs. “Let’s get these off, hm?” Simon pulls your clothes off deftly - dragging those rough palms over your skin as he moves and kneading at the plushness of your hips appreciatively.
You reach up to tug at his shirt. “S’not fair if I’m the only one naked.”
Simon chuckles and hastily sits back to yank the shirt over his head, giving a lovely show in the process. You think this what people mean when they talk about an Adonis. There’s a comfortable soft layer of his strong abdomen. Something you want to sink your teeth into. Your fingers trace each dip and curve of his muscles, the lovely shape of his pectorals, the raised scars littering his body. Floral shapes from bullets along with slashes and smaller jabs. A particularly nasty one runs down his side, coving his ribs. A burn, you think.
“You’re beautiful.” You murmur. Definitely out of your fucking league. You move to sit up, reaching for his waistband.
His hand pushes your shoulder back on the bed. “Let me take care of you tonight, bird.”
Your face warms. Simon kisses your cheek, continuing down to your chest and taking one of your nipples in his mouth. Gently sucking and nipping at it while flicking the other with his hand. A shameful whimper escapes your throat.
Simon leans up to murmur in your ear, “What do you want, sweet girl?”
“Want you to fuck me…” You murmur, embarrassment making you want to close your legs. His solid hips block you.
“Oh, I will, but first I want those beautiful thighs wrapped around my head.” Simon continues to place kisses down your body, over your stomach, stopping right at your panty line and tracing along it with rough fingers. His arms circle your thighs and in one swift motion your hips teeter on the edge of the bed, Simon kneeling between them. His fingers hook in the waistband of your underwear.
“W-wait…” You sit up on your elbows.
He freezes, looking up at you.
“I, uh, I haven’t exactly *landscaped* in a while… wasn’t really planning-“
Simon huffs out a laugh. “I’m a grown man, love. You think a little bush is gonna scare me off?”
All thoughts related to anything within the proximity of embarrassment come to an instant halt as Simon’s lips wrap around your clit- sucking and nipping and lapping like a man starved. Like he’d die without it. A low groan rumbles through his throat.
“F-fuck!” You gasp, whimpers and moans interrupting any chance you may have at putting words together.
“Taste so fucking good, princess.” He mumbles against you. A shaky moan rattles through you as he pushes a thick finger in, working it gently. His other than grips your hip tightly, pinning you in place. The pet-name sends a shiver down your spine - leaving you rolling your hips and clenching on the finger inside you.
“Fuck, Si…” You gasp, tangling your fingers in his hair.
“I can tell your close, baby.” Simon groans. “Cum for me. Come on, be a good girl and cum all over my fucking tongue.”
The bastard knows the power he has in that voice. He *has* to. That baritone gravel sinks in your veins and all you can do is whimper. Panting pathetically the closer you get. His fingers curl up and your back arches harshly as your climax washes over you. Your legs tremble as he works you through it; stopping just shy of pushing you too far.
“Hey!” You gasp indignantly as a jolt shoots up your spine as he settles a final, harsh suck on your clit.
Simon taps your hip, climbing back over you as you scoot up on the bed. He carelessly kicks off his pants as he goes, toeing them off before settling between your legs. Those dark eyes rake over you leisurely - taking in every inch. Every curve and dip and flaw categorically. He sucks in a breath and sighs. “Bloody ‘ell, look at you… so fuckin’ pretty.”
Your face heats and you look away. “Who’s the flatterer now?”
“Not me. Just bein’ honest.” He places a quick kiss to your soft jawline before reaching over to dig through his nightstand drawer. You don’t miss the gold foil of the condom wrapper.
You can’t stop yourself from licking your lips as he pulls off his boxer briefs. Simon is uncut, already ruddy and leaking and just begging for your mouth. Maybe next time, though. He’s already slipped on the condom, carefully hooking one of your legs over his shoulder and the other around his hip. The man has a laser-focus to him, you’ll give him that.
“Still want t’ keep goin’?” He mumbles, eyes locked on his cock as is drags between your folds.
“*Please*.” You whine pathetically. Simon’s chuckle turns into a gasp as he presses in. It’s achingly slow and you roll your hips in demand for more.
Simon lets out a low groan as his hips meet yours. The stretch is perfect - just enough to feel completely full without pushing you too far. As though your bodies were made to slot together just so. Your head falls back, chest heaving as you beg him to move, to fuck you, just *please* for the love of god-
“Needy little thing.” He gives you a sloppy smile before setting a brutal pace. You find yourself clawing at his back, clinging to him as your back arches and the most obscene sounds are systematically torn from your throat. The angle he has your hips placed causes his cock to bully that sensitive spot inside you - dragging over it with every thrust.
Simon leans toward, bracing himself on his forearms and pinning you under him as he fucks into you. “So fuckin’ good f’me. Knew you would be. So soft and sweet and goddamn *pretty*.”
“*Fuck, Simon*.” You gasp, nose bumping against his as your lips intertwine. Breaths and moans intermingle as you both chase that edge. There’s nothing else, in this moment, just you and Simon and the sounds only he has ever managed to pull from you.
Your orgasm hits you like a train. Out of nowhere and all at once, tensing every muscle into a trembling mess as you clamp down around his cock. Simon sinks his teeth into your neck as his own climax takes him, cradling you close and moaning out your name so muddled you almost miss it.
For a few moments, you stay frozen in place trying to catch your breath as you come down. Your limbs feel like jelly when you finally try to move, body limp and pliable. It almost feels like a loss as he pushes off of you, leaving you open and vulnerable to the cool night air while he ties off the condom.
“Be right back.” He murmurs, slowly climbing off you and heading for an attached bathroom off to the left.
You let your eyes slipped closed only to jump and shoot back open as a dap rag drags between your thighs. A little yelp escapes you as the rough material drags across your oversensitive clit. Simon chuckles at you, tossing the rag back somewhere in the bathroom before crawling into the bed beside you. It’s so easy to curl into his chest and let those strong arms encircle you.
“Have fun, love?” Simon murmurs into your hair.
You just hum happily, smiling against his hard chest.
“Good.”
It’s just as easy as the rest of it to fall asleep like that. To seek out the warmth of his body in your satiated haze and press into him, allowing the night and rhythmic beating of his heart to overtake you. You feel four small taps between your shoulder blades just before tipping over the edge into comfortable nothing.
You wake slowly to an empty bed. The light from the window above you streams in - bathing the room in a light golden tone. It’s cozy. The blankets seem to pull you in, keeping you snugly in place. Distantly, you hear the sound of pots and pans clinking.
Shockingly, you’re not hungover. Well, not much at least. There’s a slight twinge in your head and a not unpleasant soreness in your hips. You dig around, finding your clothes strewn across the room haphazardly. Your underwear are nowhere to be found and you eventually give up with a shrug. They weren’t one of your best pairs anyway.
When you come out of the bedroom, you pause. Simon stands in the kitchen, working on something over the stove wearing only a pair of sweatpants. They hang loosely around his hips, showing off the rises and dips of his strong muscles and well defined waist. This scene somehow feels too intimate despite your activities the night before.
“Perfect timing.” Simon turns, placing a plate down on the kitchen island. The omelette before you looks immaculate, all the way down to a light garnish on top.
Your eyes turn to saucers. “You…you made me breakfast?”
“Course.” He nods sharply as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. As if *not* doing so would be some sort of affront. Either you’re still asleep and this is all a dream or you stumbled upon the perfect man through pure happenstance.
He turns the stove off and on and off twice before standing at the counter across from you while you sit on one of the stools at the island. It’s a comfortable silence as you both eat. Simon keeps glancing up at you as if waiting for your disapproval. Boyish, somehow, despite the size and breadth of him.
It’s perfect. The eggs practically melt in your mouth and the goat cheese and vegetables taste fresh. You can’t help but him happily as you eat.
By the time you’re done, you think you might be a little in love.
Maybe you should text Cass and thank her or something. Maybe a gift basket. “Oh. My phone’s dead.”
“Didn’t charge it before y’left last night?” Simon cocks an eyebrow, chewing on his last bite.
You snort. “It was last minute, remember?”
“What if I’d been some sort of psycho? What was your plan?” He grins as he takes your empty plate. If you were a more impulsive woman you may have gone so far as to lick the damn thing.
“Are you a psycho?”
“Not generally, no.”
“Well then, nothing to worry about.” You grin, watching a little too happily as he rinses down the dishes and loads the dishwasher.
Simon just scoffs at you.
You glance at the time above the stove, disappointment settling deep in your chest. “Shit. I should get going.”
“I’ll get you a cab.” Simon offers automatically, reaching for his phone.
You shift side to side, twiddling your thumbs. “Y’know… we never finished the movie…”
Simon cocks and eyebrow. From the pleased smirk on his face you can tell he knows what you’re implying. He still patiently waits for you to say it out loud.
“Would, uh, would you want to exchange numbers? Maybe… meet up… again…?” Your voice is more timid than you’d like. This fear of rejection is new. Being rejected is nothing new for you, so why does it suddenly feel so high stakes with this one guy you barely know?
You don’t miss the way his eyes light up ever so slightly at the question. “I’d love to.”
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holybibly · 3 months
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Pretty Flushed | MATZ x Reader | Part I
Genre: smut, hybrids!Au
Word Count: 10.6k
Summary: Debts must always be repaid, even if they are not your own, and you will learn this cruel lesson from your own bitter sweet experience.
Or where innocent bunnies are the most delicious dessert for the big bad wolf
Part II
WARNING: Unprotected sex, Mommy/Alpha! Seonghwa, Daddy/Alpha! Hongjoong, Omega/Bunny! Reader, оral knotting, stomach bulge, vaginal knotting, breeding, fingering, choking, degrading, pet names, spit kink, size kink, face fucking, hair pulling, manhandling, threesomes, dirty talk, explicit sexual content, explicit language, squirting, pussy slapping, dacryphilia, oral, cum eating, overstimulation and more.
Tag list: @jeolmeunday @meowmeeps @wayzatiny @stolasisyourparent @iweirdthingsblog @staytinyville @yoonivjpg @spooo00oky @kibs-and-bits @yunnieo @avantalem @dreamingofyeo @uuviey @mxnsxngie @bahngchatsfx @yeosang-dot-mp3 @zzz-zzs @yeos-bunny @seonghwasstar @fvlvy @bunnyluvr25 @watermelon2319 @weedforthoughtz @teez-the-time @bakarilennox @atinyreads @bluesungshine @kihyuns-military-wife @seventhcallisto @maximofftrash @0325tiny @edusweah @haven-cove @nhari @sanhwalvr @hecateslittlewitchling @icecold2baby @readerofallthingss @appleschre @wannabebarbiesworld @kpopmonstur @ohflorah @yoongiigolden @unxverxse @kuromiiy @cherryynoir @mitchikeli @atinism @minaizum1 @st4rhwa @kayleigh-28 @onedumbho3 @imthetempter @soobiverse
A/N: I hadn't planned to split this into two parts, but I'm not good at writing anything under 25k, so Part 1 is here today.This universe will evolve, and there are a few more works to come. I'm kind of obsessed with them. Sorry, but I'm on my knees in front of men in furs, and I'm not ashamed of it at all. I hope you all look forward to Part 2 as much as I did.
All comments and reblogs are very much appreciated and are a great motivation for me. Feel free to ask me anything; questions and private messages are open.
The whole tag list will also be relevant for the second part. I may add 10-15 more people to the second part tag, so if you want to be tagged, please leave a comment under this post.
divider by @cafekitsune
Have fun, bunnies; the heat is on.
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Ever since you were born, your mother has always said to you, "Good bunnies should be submissive and grateful; they shouldn't cause any problems," and you have always followed her words with an exceptional level of obedience.
Responsive, soft, and gentle, you were the perfect embodiment of all the best qualities of your breed. You were the best bunny in the litter, something you were undoubtedly proud of and always justified with your perfect behaviour.
You were so tender, affectionate, and charming—the absolute image of a good girl. Always helpful, understanding, and ready to help in any situation. Despite the mocking nickname "Goody Two Shoes" given to you by the other bunnies on the farm, you were happy to be who you were.
"Good bunnies are obedient bunnies" was the simple truth of your entire life.
You bowed your head and bared your neck in respect, went to church on Sundays, helped breastfeed the younger bunnies in the nursery, studied hard, and, of course, had a clean and pure reputation.
It's not that you didn't have a clue what sex was. You'd gotten your fair share of heats, but unfortunately, you were too shy and indecisive to get laid with someone. You spent all of your heats in the company of a cute little glass dildo and a silver plug that was adorned with a shiny pink stone.
The obscene thoughts and pornographic images that filled your mind at the time always made you feel extremely ashamed. But what could you do when you were literally born to be a beautiful sex toy? It was a rather humiliating fact for your species, but all rabbits were something of a slut for a big fat cock. Their primitive reproductive instincts were stronger than any sense of decency they had.
From your point of view, this was the one and only blemish on your otherwise "saintly" image. A black mark on your spotless reputation. Your small guilty pleasure.
In everything else, you followed strict rules and remained a naive, obedient girl.
At the moment, the situation in which you found yourself was a traumatic one for your fragile, isolated mind, to say the least. On top of that, your heat was coming on relentlessly, and the growing excitement tingling beneath the surface of your skin was making it a hundred times worse. All the more so when it was being fuelled by the heavy, seductive pheromones emanating from the man sitting in front of you. 
In all the time you'd been in this room, you hadn't even dared to look at him.
Torn between the deep-seated prey instinct that urges you to run and hide and the forbidden dark desire to submit to the dominant species, your mind goes haywire, causing almost physical pain.
It was a choice between fuck and death, and you were stuck in the middle. If you dared to turn your back on him, he wouldn't hesitate to rip your throat out with his teeth or rape you right there on the fluffy carpet, rough and animalistic. 
In spite of the very real danger, the nymphomaniac half of your brain was happily imagining how nice it would be to feel the soft pile of the carpet against your skin as you were put on all fours and fucked senseless.
Embarrassing as it was to admit, bunnies weren't the smartest of creatures, more concerned with mating and satisfying an insatiable sex drive than anything else. Sometimes they lacked intelligence and common sense in situations where it was needed, and this was one of those times. So it was not surprising that you thought more about the carpet under your feet and the cock between your legs than the real and obvious threat to your fragile life.
All air and glass, too brittle and soft for this world; you were easily broken.
"Haven't they taught you any manners, pretty thing? Stop staring at the floor. I'll never believe he's more attractive than me, so lift your head up, bunny, and let me have a good look at your sweet face." The voice was deep and rich, with a kind of chocolate smoothness that glided over your skin like a forbidden caress.
The sensation was so clear and vivid that a pleasant warmth spread over your entire body with a gentle blush, and a tingling sensation began to tingle palpably in your lower abdomen.
You almost start to whimper in response, but you manage to suppress the humiliating sound deep in your throat and bite the inside of your cheek in pain.
His presence is so strong and commanding, so suffocating, that it feels like the whole world has frozen at his feet. The sensation burns you to the bone, and a primal, little-used instinct signals the impending danger, sending an icy shiver down the length of your spine.
The bunny's submissive nature can't help but react to such blatant dominance, and your body responds by sending out signals of submission, causing you to tilt your head slightly to the side to show him your gently exposed neck.
Your long ears flutter weakly at the sound of a velvety purr escaping the man's lips, and you let the muscles that are taut as silk ribbons relax a little, knowing he's accepted your gesture of submission.
"A good bunny is an obedient bunny," so as soon as the dynamic between you is cleared, you immediately follow the command he gave you earlier.
"I... I don't... Excuse me, sir." You stammer as you awkwardly try to formulate the right words and finally raise your head to look at the gorgeous man in front of you with the glassy stare of big, wide, open eyes.
"There you are, my cuddly little bunny. Such good manners, my pet. I wonder if you are always such a docile sugar thing, obediently following all instructions." He chuckles slightly, the mockery of it clearly audible in the soft sound. "Do you like what you see?" As if inviting a kiss, the tip of his pointed tongue flicks sensually across his voluptuous, plump lips. There is a flash of something in his seductive, languid gaze. A sense of knowledge. Feeling of power. Every move and every word were deliberate.
This was the beginning of the game between predator and prey. He seduced her only to tear her to pieces once she was in his clawed hands.
No one asked questions on your farm; you were always told what to do and how to answer. So his question, to put it mildly, has you confused, and you don't know what to say to him, or rather, what answer he expects from you.
The man before you is magnificent. The majestic face is like that of a fierce beast of prey and an angel of death rolled into one. Warmth surged to your face at the mere sight of him and sank to the depths of your soul in the same moment. What could you say? Are you the most beautiful thing I've ever seen? Even that wouldn't have been enough.
A pair of pointed ears could be seen between silky black curls that twitched with interest at every sound. Silver fur that felt so soft to the touch. Not as soft as your own, perhaps, but that did not diminish the desire to be touched in any way. The same silver shimmered in the lazy movements of his thick tail.
He was half-reclining in a large leather chair, as if he were sitting on a royal throne. His long legs were spread wide and covered in a pair of designer jeans that drew attention to his crotch. The outline of a large, thick cock was clearly visible through the fabric.
At the mere sight of him, lust spills deep into your loins. The sweet voice of approaching heat sings happily in your head, "The perfect mate, just what you need. He'll destroy you, satiate you, and tie you up with his big fat knot." These thoughts were so sickening, but that's what you get for being a bunny.
You had to shake them off. Good girls don't think about dicks. Especially when their lives are literally on the brink of death.
Tattoo lines ran down the length of his slender neck. There was a small scar where the mating bite had taken place. His skin was uneven and swollen in places. It was as if teeth had sunk into him several times in a row, overlapping the bites.
But there was one detail in the whole of his stunning appearance that made your eyes widen in fear, and the space between his thighs filled with the liquid honey of desire.
Wool in all shades of brown and sand, harmoniously woven into a massive, voluminous fur coat. It didn't take a genius to figure out who he was, and your pheromone-fogged brain would only belatedly realise that you were in serious trouble. There was only one species that could afford to wear fur in such a provocative and shameless manner.
A wolf. And an Alpha at that.
The ultimate predator. He was cunning, stealthy, and tantalising when he wanted to be.
The moment of realisation hits you like a lightning bolt. A nervous shiver runs down your spine, and your hands start to shake as you crumple up the hem of your white skirt. You look a little ridiculous in your pretty white outfit—all frills and lace. It was your idea of a sweet outfit. But it looks naively childish, almost silly, compared to the Alpha's luxurious furs and designer clothes.
He's clearly amused by your nervousness. The corners of his luscious, perfectly sculpted lips curve into a mocking, devilish smile. The sharp tips of his fangs are revealed, and your pulse races.
You've heard many stories from other bunnies about how tempting predators can be to natural prey like you, like moths seduced by flames and such. But how could you, such a gentle and sweet girl, be attracted to this alpha standing before you?
The way you squeezed your thighs together clearly showed how excited you were. The Alpha sniffs at this and then laughs deeply and darkly.
"Ah, you obviously like what you see, don't you, little slut? It turns out the rumours were true; all bunnies are such whores for dick. I was under the impression that we had an innocent creature on our hands here. Mmm, that's a shame, sweetheart."
You open your mouth to object, but all you hear is a soft whimper that makes him laugh even harder. The sound practically vibrates against your heated skin, a deep shade of burgundy spilling over your chubby cheeks in a humiliating blush.
And yet, you're a very stupid bunny.
"I want to see more of that slutty nature, but we'll get back to that later, sweetheart. Now tell me, do you know what you're doing here, Fluffy?" You squirm under the intensity of his gaze. His eyes are dark and so predatory. There's a hunger in them that's hard to hide, and it makes your heart beat so fast that you can feel every beat in your ribs, and your legs start to tremble harder than ever, but underneath all that fear, there's something else.
The tugging feeling of arousal in your lower abdomen grows stronger by the second, drops of viscous mucus moisten the silky folds of your pussy, and your panties suddenly become very uncomfortable, clinging uncomfortably to your crotch.
A new wave of sweet, tempting pheromones fills the room, smothering you with delicious sweetness, responding to your actions. Your head begins to spin, a numb sensation of excitement crawling out from under your skin and spreading throughout your body until it spills over your chubby cheeks in a bright red blush.
It was too twisted for your fragile mind, and you were furious at the terror and bliss hidden beneath it, but the attraction was too strong to deny. But for silly, sweet bunnies, it was the world's biggest mistake to feel and react like that. You're supposed to be this calm and brave bunny, not trembling with lust under that hypnotic black gaze. And you certainly shouldn't have found this wolf to be so attractive and so sexy.
But some part of you had already surrendered to him before you were even aware of it, and your body seemed to be unable to overcome the perverse attraction you were feeling.
You tried to convince yourself that it was all about the deep-seated instinct to procreate—the very natural rabbit instinct and the impending heat—but that would be self-destructive.
Good girls always end up with the big bad guy's dick in their mouth. And that wolf was big and mean. The fear of his sharp teeth sinking into your neck practically melted away at the thought of him tying you in a knot and fuck you so good you'd forget your name.
"Я... I don't know, sir. I'm a good bunny. I'm very obedient. Please believe me..." Your mind is a mess; you can't form coherent thoughts, and you speak in scrappy phrases that make no sense.
Your eyes start to water, and a lump forms in your throat, making it hard to breathe. It's like a sudden temper hysteria, as if all of your senses have been rebooted at once and you can't make up your mind how to react at the moment. Something inside of you snap, like a self-defence mechanism that has just been activated, and crystal tears will begin to flow down your face.
Here you are, a cute little bunny in a wolf's lair, left to be eaten by a big, bad wolf.
You finally realise that all this is happening in a wolf's den, where you are completely helpless and vulnerable to the danger represented by the handsome man sitting in front of you. The most important thing is that you have absolutely no idea why you have been brought here. The head of your farm has asked you to ride with him, and of course you have obediently agreed; you would never dare to refuse; it would be so disrespectful and rude, as your mother has always told you.... 
Oh my God, Mum! Did she know where you were? She must be worried. Isn't she?
Your heart is pounding in your chest, fear is coursing through your veins, and hot tears are stinging your eyes. Your left heel hits the ground a few times in a convulsive manner. The panicked sound is drowned out by the softness of the carpet—the same carpet that pleased you just a few minutes ago.
The wolf's eyes grew hungrier, lust blazing in them like a golden flame, and he licked his lips sensuously. The moan he lets out is nothing less than pure porn, and you shudder. Whether it's from sheer terror or from excitement, you can't tell.
His long tongue traced the outline of his full lips once more, and you understood the meaning of what he was doing.
He's tasting your fear. Oh, fuck.
It was no secret that all wolves were a little sexually perverted; they always found the display of primal fear extremely arousing and had a tendency towards dacryphilia.
One day, one of the bunny girls from your farm spent her mating season with one of the wolves from a neighbouring clan. She came back looking as if she'd been abused for years—bites, wounds, bruises, and hickeys—but her blissful sighs and her belly, swollen from all the sperm she'd received, said she had no regrets about choosing a mate.
For a bunny like you, sex with a wolf was like flirting with death. He'd tear you to pieces, and you'd be grateful. If you survived, of course.
Yet there was something deeply erotic about being at the mercy of this ferocious, godlike creature; helpless and defenceless against his cruel touch, his fierce stare, and his razor-sharp fangs.
You're almost feverish. Your cheeks are beginning to burn from the shameful excitement building up between your legs, your lower lip is quivering with barely suppressed sobs, and your palms are sweating from the hot, lingering, perverse sense of temptation that is bubbling under your skin like scalding water. It's so deadly and dangerous that it's almost blissfully pleasurable.
Cotton tail twitches nervously, and your long ears flatten against your head, the whole body trying to curl up into a ball in the hope of escaping that greedy gaze.
In the wolf's eyes, you become even more appetising—such a sweet little thing for his taste. He smiles sweetly at you—as sweet as a wolf's smile can be. This sudden change in his demeanour makes you swallow noisily the viscous saliva that has gathered in your mouth. The smile on those beautiful lips is so much softer, gentler, and almost motherly, and your body unconsciously relaxes, fooled by the feigned kindness.
Stupid, stupid bunny.
"Didn't they tell you, my sweet little bunny?" His voice is a wicked, velvety purr. Your fluffy cotton tail twitches nervously, as if warning you of impending danger, and you squeak weakly. "You're completely empty-headed, sweetheart."
Almost lazily, Alpha brings the glass of amber-coloured whisky to his lips and takes a small sip from it. His tongue is slowly rolling the liquid in his mouth; it is poking at his cheek in a vulgar way that is too obvious to be an accident. It's a deliberate move. The glass is set on the table with a soft clink, the echo of which is matched by your heel hitting the floor. 
When he speaks again, his lips are wet, glistening with drops of alcohol, and you realise with a sense of humiliation that your silk panties are getting much wetter.
"My name is Seonghwa and I am the Alpha Leader of this house. Your farm owes me a debt of gratitude, my little one. I've been patient enough to wait for a while, but you bunnies are such damned greedy things, always wanting to take and expecting to get away with it just because of your pretty face. But you don't. It's time to pay your bills, and you're my sweet girl; you're going to pay me back everything your farm owes me. That's what you're here for." Seonghwa tilted his head sideways, almost childishly, and added mockingly. "Do you understand me, pretty thing, or do I have to repeat it to you again so that your tiny brain can understand it?"
He is blatantly humiliating you and openly mocking, knowing full well that rabbits are a little on the small side mentally and sometimes have a hard time taking in information correctly at first go.
You let out a half-whine, half-squeal, and shake your head negatively. Your fluffy blonde curls fall over your flushed face and stick uncomfortably to the thick candy-pink gloss on your lips. Right now, you look absolutely nothing like the well-behaved bunny you are.
"That… that's not true… Please don't do this to me, my farm; we are very good bunnies. Seong…sir, I am a good girl, the best bunny in the litter, and I have never taken anything from  anyone." You respond with a soft whimper that turns into a loud sob.
You're a pretty pathetic sight to behold, but that only seems to turn him all the more.
Seonghwa places a dainty palm on the inside of his thigh, too high for propriety, and you shiver at the sound of his dark laughter. This action is a subtle, almost primitive, act of dominance. It is designed to draw attention to his large, hard cock hidden beneath the fabric of his jeans. His knot must be huge.
Your mouth fills with saliva at the thought and you swallow loudly, fluffy tail quivering and flicking slightly in response to his behaviour. Thoughts of what it would be like to be tied up by an alpha, for once in your life, make your breath catch in your throat. Apart from the gossip you've heard from the other bunnies, you're not even aware of it. You are wondering what it will feel like when the Alpha is tying you up with his knot and stretching your pussy wide open around it.
It's something that's on the edge of your sanity, and you're both scared and eager to rub your face on his cock, drooling all over it like a proper slut.
All of your nerves are stretched to the breaking point, and your mind is consumed by a fog of hormones and a mixture of terror. Your skin melts from the sensory overload, and your body begins to prepare itself for the fact that this man is about to ruin your life. You are almost desperate for what is about to happen.
His aura grows heavier, and finally, for the first time all night, you get a whiff of him. It's thick, enveloping, and evil—the smell of bitter almonds with notes of whisky, black cherry, and something else. Your nose twitched as you tried to catch the subtle note, and when you did, you sobbed loudly. There was a faint, subtle scent of blood emanating from it, a scent common to all predators.
In a reflexive response, you try to put as much distance as possible between yourself and the predator by taking small steps backwards. Somewhere in your chest, a feeling of panic is building up, and you can hear your heart beating frantically, pumping blood.
Even through the fog of excitement, your brain is responding to the real danger, telling you to back away, and you obediently follow its advice before your back hits something that's both hard and incredibly soft at the same time. As your trembling fingers sink into the luxuriously thick fur, the feeling of terror returns with redoubled force.
Somebody else was here.
Seonghwa growls, his eyes rolling back as he throws his head back. His mouth opens in noisy, deep breaths, as if he were choking to death, and the sweet pheromones fill the room even more than before. His thick tail flicks behind his back like a whip, and his body shakes a little, overflowing with the energy and lust he has suppressed. Your fear is like sweet ambrosia on his tongue, and he craves more; he wants to hear your scream, your hot tears, your terror, and your excitement pouring out of your tiny cunt.
Oh, baby, he's going to tear you to hell.
His hand squeezes his cock hard under the fabric of his jeans a couple of times, causing him to let out a passionate moan. It's a deep, animal sound, full of dangerous warnings.
And there's nothing but hunger in his eyes when he looks at you again. Seonghwa looks like he wants to rape you until you're numb, to fuck you to death, and to fill you to the brim until your belly swells with all the cum he's going to pour into you. And there's so much of it—somuch that it'll be pouring out of you for hours.
You whimper, every nerve in your body vibrating and tingling, and you try to take another step back, but the hard body behind you won't budge an inch.
"Oh, Fluffy, are you leaving us already? I just came to play." His voice was soft and a little feminine, and you could hear a barely concealed evil chuckle in it. He purred in your ear in a sensual way, and a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around you in a tight embrace. Painfully digging into your soft curves were fingers adorned with massive silver rings. The man behind you mooed with satisfaction as he squeezed you even tighter into his arms. "Mmm… what a pretty pet we have here, Seonghwa. A tiny, sweet doll, how lucky we are to have you, huh? Such a silly, innocent little bunny in a den of big wolves". Soft fur wraps around you like a blanket as his cold, sharp nose burrows deep into the curve of your neck. Taking a deep breath, the wolf runs his nose along the pulsating scent gland. He must really like the smell, because you can feel the slight vibration of his growling against your skin. "You smell good - so delicious, fluffy - like peaches and cream. Makes me want to eat you alive." The man chuckles, playfully clicking his teeth against your neck as the slippery liquid moistens your thighs.
"As always on time, Hongjoong." Seonghwa remarks with an irritated tone.
"Don't be so greedy, Hwa. The scent of her excitement wafts through the house like an invitation." The Alpha behind you continues to fiddle with your throat. He runs his nose over your skin almost lazily, as if he has all the time in the world. "You can literally feel her taste on your tongue; you should have a look at Mingi and Yunho right now." He chuckles again and weakly bites the skin of your neck. You tremble all over in his arms, your fear heightened by the mention of other wolves, but with it comes a shameful sense of arousal, and you're clearly aware of how much is dripping from you. The thick, clear liquid is dripping down your legs and soaking into the fabric of your shoes.
Your heart flutters as they speak of you so casually, as if you are nothing more than a thing, a shiny new toy that has caught their attention. It's a knowledge that is simultaneously exhilarating and frightening.
So you try to speak to them again, to ask them to let you go to the farm, but all your words fall on deaf ears.
"Please..." Your voice sounds rather pathetic, more like a plea for their dicks than for a safe return to the farm. "I don't... I don't know what you're talking about. I'm a good, obedient bunny, and I owe nothing to anyone. You've got to be mistaken." You stammered, sobbing, turning your full attention back to the black-haired Alpha, belatedly noticing how faintly the blood-red frame of his bottomless black irises glimmered. "Let me go home, please. My mom is worried."
"Do you think we should let the bunny go, Hwa? She's so courteous, and she's got mum worrying about her." The Alpha behind you, Hongjoon, brings his hand up to stroke the velour base of your ears, and you make a small squeal as his fingers touch the sensitive spot.
"Aren't you just the most adorable pet, Princess? Don't worry, you've got another mommy to look after you now."
As Hongjoong rubbed the soft base of your ear harder, all rational awareness left you completely. Your ears have always been your erogenous zone, and you never let anyone touch them. You stifled a long, whimpering moan when your large front teeth dug painfully into your lower lip. You had to cross your knees to relieve the throbbing between your legs. But that only made more slick run down your legs.
Alpha presses his hips against your plump arse, and you can clearly feel the sheer size of his cock; it's hard, massive, almost palpably hot, even through the fabric, and despite the numbing excitement and lust of your impending heat, you realise that you'll never be able to fit something so thick and large inside you.
You let out a loud squeal at the thought and immediately covered your mouth with the palm of your hand, but it was of no use at all. Through the veil of tears, you can see Seonghwa's fluffy tail swaying upwards, interested in the sound, and Hongjoong letting out a long, languorous moan into your skin.
Wolves and their twisted, lustful minds.
All of it is driving them mad, making their cocks throb painfully in their trousers, and releasing even more of their pheromones. Your crystal-sweet tears on your cheeks, flushed with humiliation and desire; the terror frozen in your wide open eyes; that vulnerable, helpless look; and of course, the thick, creamy scent of your slime.
"My innocent bunny, hasn't anyone told you that there are many bad people in this world?" Seonghwa says with an exaggerated tenderness that makes his plump lips pucker up cutely. Every word that he says is a pure sneer at you, wrapped up in the velvety purr of his deep voice.
"Hwa, it's too hard for our sweet little pet; she's got air in her head." Hongjoong chuckling tauntingly again, and you notice, not without horror, that the distance between you and Seonghwa has shrunk to the extent that you are standing between his spread legs, the toes of your pretty pink satin shoes touching the hem of his luxurious fur coat. Hongjoong's actions were so distracting that you didn't even notice that he was bringing you closer to the main Alpha. Wrapped in a haze of seductive pheromones and lust, your head was indeed empty and light.
A sweet, empty-headed bunny. Such a perfect toy to be used for their amusement.
All Seonghwa has to do is reach out to stroke the soft silk of your thighs, and judging by the way his gaze slides to the edge of your skirt, which frankly left little to the imagination, and his nostrils flare as he inhales the creamy peach scent, the thought crosses his mind as well. And it would appear that he's not the only one.
Hongjoong's fingernails scratch the thin skin on the inside of your thigh like delicate, sharp claws, causing a stream of warm liquid to flow from your pussy. He growls contentedly as the sticky, sweet-smelling moisture remains on his fingertips.
"Is someone excited, fluffy?" His tongue is hot and wet, licking languidly over the swollen, scented gland, and your cunt clenches reflexively. Your face flares with humiliation. "You're such a dirty girl, my darling."
"I'm a good bunny." Slapping your heel against the floor, you protest weakly. Your lips curl into a cute pout by themselves, almost childish.
The scent of Alpha rises, and for the second time tonight, you lose your head at it—it's something so delicious, almost sinful, with notes of chocolate, rum, spice, and pink pepper. A sharp spark of excitement runs through your body, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.
Your knees buckle, and if Hongjoon wasn't literally holding you, you'd be lying on the floor at their feet. That's where you belong. Turning you to face him, he wraps his fingers around your chin.
Hongjoon's just as strikingly handsome as Seonghwa, but unlike the long-haired Alpha's sensually seductive features, this one has sharper, almost demonic ones.
A truly wolfish smile—all fangs and hunger—plays on his red lips. A pair of pointed white ears twitch interestedly at your attention, and his tail sways lazily behind his back. He's also dressed in furs, a toxic orange and scarlet, and you can't help but notice how perfectly they fit him. It's as bold as his owner. 
"Come on, fluffy; don't cry; let daddy take care of that sweet face." In long, slow motion, he licks the tears from your cheeks. Something seems to be breaking inside him as the Alpha rolls his eyes and moans gutturally.
Afraid to even take a breath, you freeze completely in his arms. The excitement rushes through your vagina, and your pussy clenches desperately against nothing. Your big, wet eyes don't move from his face until he meets your gaze once more. A look so dark and predatory that it makes you want to cry even harder than before. Only you can't tell if you're afraid of him or if you want to continue to please him.
"Bunny…you're just asking for a knot, aren't you? All these tears… you're driving me crazy, my angel." His purr is sweet as sugar. His hot tongue licks away your tears as his lips press against your plump, wet cheeks. "Let me explain this to you, my darling. Your "wonderful" farm gave you away to pay off a debt. My fragile little girl, you belong to us now. Ours to play, ours to fuck, ours to breed."
"Hongjoong is absolutely right, princess. From this day on, you belong to us, my bunny. You are such a jewel for our house. Maybe we'll even let the younger wolves play with you a bit. They're a bit rough around the edges, but I promise they'll be on their best behaviour around a beautiful thing like you. If they bite you, they'll lick your tiny cunt to make up for it."
Your left heel taps the floor a few times, and you manage to make a low squeaking noise.
"I'm not an object." You didn't even know who you were trying to convince—you or them. Of course you were a thing in their hands, nothing more than a pretty cock sleeve, and the words Hongjoong and Seonghwa had said a moment before had accurately described your position in their house.
The black-haired Alpha rose from his seat and towered over you. Up close, he's not just beautiful; he's godlike. Instinctively, you arch your back and tilt your head back so that your eyes meet his. His gaze is so searing, so sharp, that you feel your skin burning underneath as you begin to wriggle and whimper in Hongjoong's tight grip, the two Alphas chuckling merrily.
"Aren't you?" He raises an eyebrow at you in a mocking manner. The corners of his lips curl up in a mischievous grin, just enough to reveal the tips of his pointed fangs. "So tell me, bunny, what shall I call you?"
"Y/N." Your voice is no more than a whisper to him. Seonghwa's ears twitch in your direction with interest, and Hongjoong's warm breath kisses the sensitive skin on the back of your neck. They heard you very well. But that doesn't stop them from addressing you with a certain harshness.
Seonghwa's hand runs gently through your hair before he grabs a handful and pulls it out sharply. You squeak shrilly, and the sound echoes with their laughter, velvety and mocking.
They are large, warm, and deadly, and you look tiny in the midst of them; the difference in your size is so obvious.
"Speak up, fluffy. I want to hear that pretty little voice of yours loud and clear."
In the meantime, Hongjoong's fingers are already pulling at your hair on the other side, without any ceremony at all. His claws scratch your scalp for a second, and the stinging prick sends a shiver down the length of your back.
"Be gentle, Hongjoong; you don't want to break it before its time, do you? The puppies will go mad if they can't get their teeth into the bunny." Seonghwa chuckles.
He tilts his face towards you to lick away your tears as he watches you squirm in his mate's arms with sadistic pleasure. You can't help but notice that Seonghwa's tongue is much longer than the other Alpha's, so attuned are you to their every action.
"Be a good girl and do as you're told. You don't want to disappoint mommy, do you, Fluffy?"
Be good. That's what you've always been told. Be obedient, because that's what the perfect little bunny should be, and you would never dare break that rule. It's literally tattooed on the subcortex of your brain. Standards of behaviour and obedience have been pounded into your pretty little head for years, and even if your instincts weren't to please your more dominant partner, prey, or predator, it doesn't matter; your obedience reflex would definitely be kicking in.
"Y/N." This time, you speak clearly and loudly as you are asked. "My name is Y/N."
"Y/N." Seonghwa pulls. As if tasting your name. "Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, it sounds so sweet, bunny. Mommy likes it." He grins broadly at you, showing his sharp teeth, and your cunt clenches shamefacedly in response, releasing another copious amount of mucus.
You make a soft sound, something between a squeak and a wheeze, your tail tucking in, your long ears drooping and flattening against your head.
"So what are we going to do with you, Y/N?" Hongjoong rolls your name over his tongue as if he's licking you between your legs, sounding almost pornographic. You want to hear it over and over again, any way you can.
"I don't know..." It's such a shame, but your instincts take over your mind, making you flow like a waterfall, dumbing yourself down for their pleasure.
"Mmm, my little angel, don't you know?" Hongjoong's lips touched the bowl of your ear, the tip of his tongue licking the soft skin and teasing your already shy nature. "Do you want daddy to spoil you, fluffy?" He purrs, making your cheeks burn shamefully, and you desperately shake your head to say yes, heated and embarrassed.
All rational thought becomes a blur, and your clouded mind focuses only on the growing sensation of the void between your legs and the puddle of liquid flowing from it.
"Please." Tears roll down your face, and your knees buckle as you shake violently and begin to go limp in the grip of the wolf. Seonghwa sucks aggressively at the skin of your swollen scent gland, leaving a mark of his right to you, a mark of his superiority. You're nothing more than a pretty fuck toy, the cutest sleeve for his cock, and the perfect bitch for him to breed with. "Ah-alpha, I beg you..."
"Look at her, Hwa, such a polite girl. Begging and pleading like a well-mannered pet. Shouldn't we have a reward for her?" He puts wet kisses on your throat. The sound of his purring voice sends signals straight to your quivering, warm pussy. "Don't you want the big, scary wolves to breed this small, narrow cunt?" You draw in a sharp breath as you feel Hongjoong's hand move down, squeezing the inside of your thigh and forcing your legs to spread apart.
As the palm of his hand cups your pussy in a possessive manner, you wheeze for air, and Hongjoong gasps slightly at the sensation of how wet you are. A shiver runs through your body as the Alpha slowly rubs his fingers along your folds through your silk panties, filling the room with a wet slurping sound as the fluid pours out. His fingers glide over your needy clit, trailing lightly as you fall deeper and deeper.
"My angel, daddy is going to make sure that this sweet pussy is always fed and filled with his warm cum." His fingers rub roughly over your throbbing clit, through your damp panties. They slide lower, pushing the panties lightly into your hole, mockingly watching your body jerk weakly. The touch stings, the sensitive edges of your hole tightening instinctively around his fingertips.
You want to spread your legs as wide as possible for the Alphas in front of you. To show how ready you are to be used, to be stuffed with their cocks, and, of course, to be tied with their big knots. To let their rough, long tongues hit the weakest places inside you, to let them eat you up all night long until you pass out from screaming their names and the number of orgasms you've had.
"Alpha..." You say, your hips arching shamelessly as you try to push Hongjoong's fingers as deep as possible. Your chubby butt swings from side to side in a motion that invites him in. Eliciting a hiss from him through clenched teeth, your soft buttocks rub against the large, firm bulge. "P-please spoil me... I-I'm begging-I need you, p-please, I need you so much..."At the moment, you're openly sobbing.
Seonghwa's long fingers are running along the side of your jaw, lifting your face as you stare into his mesmerised eyes, completely losing all sense of reason.
He's so close; the luxurious fur of his coat caresses your naked skin, burning where they touch. Their expensive furs envelop you, trapping you in a cage of hot bodies. The only thought in your head is the desire for them to spread you out on those furs and fuck until you can't stand it anymore, and even after. All you need is for them to stuff you full and knotting up your needy hole.
You're going to be a good girl for them—the best bunny they ever had.
"Shhh, don't cry; mommy will take care of you, my princess. Come to me." Seonghwa's voice seems to have dropped a few octaves, becoming more hoarse and hungrier than it was before. "Give me a taste of that sweet mouth."
Your face lifts obediently as he asks, and the next thing you know, his lips are burrowing into yours, burning painfully. Your eyes widen for a moment, and you are in a state of panic.
You weren't good at kissing. All those lazy, soft touches of lips you exchanged with some of the bunnies on the farm could hardly be called a full-fledged kiss, and they certainly didn't compare to the way Seonghwa devoured your mouth.
He pulls away from you for a moment as you squeal against his lips. While you're distracted by Seonghwa, Hongjoong slide the fabric of your panties to the side. His nimble fingers push the sticky, swollen folds apart and give you incredible pleasure. Cottontail twitches, your breath catching in your throat.
"Feeling good, sweetheart? Do you like the way daddy is stroking your needy cunt?"
"Yeshhh, it feels so good."
"Don't let yourself get distracted." Seonghwa digs her fingers into your skin and turns the touch into a painful grip. "Now mommy will teach you how to kiss properly. Open your mouth for me, darling." In obedience to his command, you open your mouth to find his lips attacking you with renewed force. As you unconsciously reach out to him and press harder against those plump, plush lips, the Alpha moans in approval. He sucks your lower lip between his sharp teeth before biting down hard on it, only to then stick out his tongue and run the rough appendage over your bruised lip in a soothing manner. An action that leaves you gasping and clutching the luxurious fur of his coat with your hands.
Seonghwa's long tongue slides between your teeth and presses against yours, licking your palate and pushing deep into your throat, literally licking your mouth from the inside out. His silky appendage moves sinfully, sliding and twirling in teasing motions that make you dizzy and your toes curl. You are intoxicated by the sweetness of the pheromones on his tongue, which enter your mouth with his saliva. Liquid desire builds up between your thighs. Viscous, transparent strands of your juices flow directly into the palm of Hongjoong's hand, down his wrist, and soak into the sleeve of his fur coat. The pain between your thighs is almost unbearable; your stomach twists and clenches, and you moan long and hard.
As his lips pull away from yours, thin strands of saliva hold your lips together before they break apart and fall to the side of your chin. The soft petals of his mouth slide down your face before he licks your lips, collecting saliva.
"Stick out your tongue, little slut." Hongjoong's subtle order echoes in your ears, and of course you do as you are told right away.
Your tongue is sticking out as you open your mouth as wide as possible. With glassy, tear-filled eyes, you watch as Seonghwa collects the saliva in his mouth and spits it out onto your waiting tongue. He purrs at the sight of a thick, viscous droplet rolling down your pink tongue.
"Swallow, darling." And you obliged.
"Aren't you the loveliest pet we've ever had? Such an obedient bunny for mommy." He leaned in again to kiss you almost innocently, which contradicted what he said next. "Now kiss Hongjoong and give him a taste of this fucking honey mouth before I spread you out on any available surface and stick my tongue so deep into your tight, wet cunt that you won't be able to live a day without it."
Your heel hits the floor a couple of times in a nervous manner, and Seonghwa runs his long fingers through your fluffy curls and turns your head in the direction of Hongjoong with all his might. His rings are clinging to your blonde strands, pulling them painfully as he moves, practically ripping them out of your head.
"There you are,, my angel; give daddy a kiss." He purses his lips sweetly and looks at you expectantly, the devil's delight and apparent derision dancing in his eyes. Oh, he is having so much fun watching you squirm.
"But, I... I thought that..." You babble confusedly.
"Don't be a disappointment to daddy, princess. You were told to kiss him." Seonghwa is pulling at your hair again, and it is hurting you.
In a clumsy attempt to repeat what Seonghwa had done to you, you tentatively reach for the other Alpha's lips. You stick out the tip of your tongue and lick weakly at the plump lower lip. Then you scrape at it with your big front teeth.
"Stupid bunny, do you even know how to do that?" Hongjoong laughs. Finally, he pulls his hand out from under your skirt and wraps it around your cheeks, his fingers digging painfully into the flesh as he does so. His fingers are wet and glistening with your own slime, and thick drops of it run down your cheeks where he is holding you.
Your velour ears twitch slightly as a whimper rises in your throat.
"You can't do anything on your own, can you, pretty? Of course, you don't. After all, you're just a cock sleeve; you have absolutely no intelligence. But daddy is going to teach you everything, sweetheart. Don't worry."
Hongjoong's kiss is as hungry and cruel as his humiliating words. His teeth are sharp, and his breath is intermittent and hot. You mindlessly submit to every insistent movement of his lips, letting him push his tongue into your supple mouth. Alpha kisses like he's hungry for it, deep and loud. Before you know it, you're moaning into his mouth and gripping the front of his gorgeous fur coat as if you'll slip away if you don't.
You've never been kissed like this before, and the sensation is like a current against your skin—painful, searing, traumatic, and shudderingly pleasurable—awakening something inside you you didn't know existed. Your insides are burning like fire, the desire blazing in your veins and roaring in your ears. All caution is long forgotten; you feel like you have a fever. Gasping through kissed lips, you look straight into Seonghwa's eyes as Hongjoong begins to kiss your slime-stained cheek and jaw.
Hwa is licking the top row of his fanged teeth and slowly rubbing his thumb over your swollen scent gland.
 
You whimper as Hongjoong presses his mouth to the other side of your neck again and again, worshipping the skin with his lips and tongue before finally nuzzling his face into the curve of your throat and inhaling noisily.
"Daddy..." It feels like you're drunk; your hormones are working so hard. Your hands come up to tangle in his auburn locks—so soft and silky—and you run your fingers through them as he plants long, lingering kisses on your throat and the curves of your breasts where the organza blouse allows.
"My sweet bunny, it's time for your reward." Seonghwa murmured somewhere deep in his throat with a soft grin. "Are you ready to take mommy's knot?" The word 'knot' made you whine even louder. Yes, yes, you want his knot. A thousand times yes.
"I want it; I want it badly, please." You beg, tugging at the collar of his fur coat.
"I'm sorry, what was that, fluffy?" Hongjoong's voice becomes very deep, yours in contrast sticking in your throat as he growls angrily: "I didn't hear you, angel..." Your breath caught in your throat again as his hand found its way under your skirt once more, his fingers pressing painfully against your throbbing clit, causing you to twitch and new tears to roll down your swollen cheeks.
"Please daddy, please mommy, knot me; I've been a very good girl."
"This is my little pet."
Hongjoong lets go of you, and his hands replace Seonghwa's as the tall Alpha turns you around in one sharp motion, pushing your body down. Your body practically falls into his large leather chair. He quickly throws your legs over the armrests; your short skirt scuffs up; and Seonghwa runs his fingertips over your wet panties, causing you to wriggle and squirm. Your legs are bent and spread, and you squeal softly as the Alpha kneels down in front of you, his luxurious fur spreading out on the floor all around him.
Hongjoong kneels beside you too, his fingers rubbing the base of your long ear. Your hands fly up to cover your face, flushed with embarrassment.
"Put them down now, bunny. I want to see you crumble under my tongue." Seonghwa growled, and you nodded in pure submission, slowly lowering your hands and breathing the words out of your lips before you could choke on them.
"Yes, mommy."
"Don't you think you have too many clothes on, Fluffy?" It's a question that doesn't have to have an answer and has a clear command at the end. "I want to see your boobs. Take your clothes off.
You obediently obey, despite how shaky your fingers are and how humiliated you must look right now—your legs spread wide, long strands of slime dripping from your knickers, forming a shiny puddle on the soft carpet, your cheeks red, and your mouth swollen and wet from being kissed.
Your tentative hands undo the buttons of your blouse, revealing your plump, heavy tits encased in a silk bra.
Once your blouse is completely undone, Hongjoong's insatiable mouth is immediately on your breasts, caressing them with hot, open-mouthed kisses. He squeezes your breasts together over your bra and lifts his eyes to you as you let out a shrill moan. You want to bring your legs together, whimpering and squirming in the uncomfortable position, but Seonghwa's broad palms hold your thighs painfully.
"They are very sensitive; please be gentle." You barely speak; the words are solid breaths and whimpers, your heart pounding in your chest as the top of your bra is pulled down, exposing your swollen, wet nipples to the two hungry Alphas.
The smell of milk fills the room with a new wave of pheromones, this time coming from both Seonghwa and Hongjoong.
A sharp, hot tongue slides over your nipple as Hongjoong stares at you through his half-closed eyelids. His mouth closes around the pink-candy flesh, the tip of his tongue slowly circling around it as he pulls back his cheeks and swallows the sweet liquid that pours into his mouth. Your other breast is lazily squeezed by Seonghwa's warm hand, making you tremble and whimper from the intense stimulation. It feels so good and new—not at all like feeding babies on a farm.
 
"Aren't you a complete delight, princess? Sweeter than sweet." More like a cat than a wolf, Seonghwa's tongue finds your other nipple and licks it slowly.
"I...Hm...I was helping to feed the little bunnies; we're short of helpers and nobody wants to, so I...oh..."
Hongjoong moans at the taste of it, and pulls away from your breasts for a moment to tear the strap of the bra with strength, tearing the thin silk fabric. Your tits are now completely exposed to them, the milk still gushing out and trickling down the length of your body. You are a dreadful mess, not at all like your normal tidy self. What would your mother say if she saw you now?
"Look at you, all flushed and ready for us, my angel".
At that moment, you felt Seonghwa bury his nose in your folds and take a deep breath. It sent a shiver of pleasure down your spine.
"Mommy, please…"
"You smell like peaches and cream, princess, I wonder if you taste the same." Seonghwa licks a long strip of the silk, his tongue hot and rough with saliva dripping from it, and God, it's too much for your innocent mind, but you can't tear your eyes away for more than a second.
Hongjoong takes your nipple in his mouth again, sucking hard, and you can feel the streams of mucus flowing freely from the folds of your wet vagina from all the stimulation you're experiencing.
Seonghwa lazily sucks on the silk partition between his mouth and your needy cunt. He makes soft sounds of approval as he licks and licks again, as if the taste of your mucus is something he desperately needs. Strong hands hold your hips still, even though you desperately want to try and close them around the handsome face of the dark-haired Alpha, to squeeze his tongue until you cum.
Your panties are pulled to the side so that Seonghwa can press his face against the warm, slippery folds and slowly begin to lick your labia. The pressure of the wet, open-mouthed kisses and the deceptively soft, caressing licks on your sweet skin are almost unbearable. A helpless sob comes from your throat as Seonghwa's tongue plunges into the heat of your sensitive hole, and you clench around it, trying to hold the sensation as long as possible.
Teeth slip out now and then, reaching out to the side of your vulva, teasing seductively, a sweet reminder that no matter how nice the Alpha is being to you, no matter how cute his fluffy tail is wagging, when he's eating your cunt, he's deadly. This simple fact makes your pussy throbbing with desire.
"That's right, bunny; let mommy enjoy your sweet cunt. I don't think I'll ever get enough of you; you really do taste like peaches and cream. Joong, you should have a taste of her; she's a real treat. Sweet, silly bunny." Seonghwa cooed and gave the thin strip of silk panties back to you, moving it so that it was between your labia. He pulls it a little tighter, causing that painful pressure on your swollen clit and friction between the sensitive folds. You feel a shuddering sensation, but the Alpha just laughs at it. "Don't be so greedy, fluffy, and say thank you. Otherwise, I won't let Joong play with you.".
Much to Seonghwa's delight, you react immediately and show obedience.
"Thanks mommy." A response that shows just how desperately you wanted to be tasted and gobbled up.
As soon as Seonghwa steps aside, Hongjoong is between your legs. You can finally enjoy the devilish beauty of this Alpha as his red-orange fur coat spreads across the carpet like a poisonous puddle. Hongjoong's face is unjustly handsome. It's stunningly framed by strands of soft brown hair; the red lips are insidiously parted in a broad but hungry wolfish grin; and the gaze is sharp and predatory. There is a dark, terrifying glint in it, like that of an animal that has found its perfect prey.
The prey instinct in you kicks in again, causing you to squirm and writhe, trying to close your thighs and squeeze yourself into a ball. Your hormones and your slutty bunny nature, on the other hand, want you to spread your legs even wider so that the Alpha can eat your pussy more comfortably.
"Is that all for me, angel?" He runs the palms of his hands down your trembling thighs, leaving long streaks of nails on your milky skin. Rude. "You look so sweet, blushing, and needy, like a feast ready for the wolf to eat, don't you, bunny?
"I...aah...I'm g-ready for you." It was hard to concentrate on the words as Seonghwa's hands started to squeeze your boobs again, causing even more milk to flow down your chest and body. Your pretty clothes were all ruined; what a shame.
"My good little bunny girl. Let's get rid of all the excess." Your knickers come off in one sharp motion, completely exposing your pink, oozing pussy to the two hungry wolves.
The new influx of sweet liquid oozing from the soft petal-like folds makes Hongjoong growl, his fangs showing, his gaze never leaving your wet, tantalising pussy for a second.
"Lick her already, Joong, or I swear I'll kick you out of here and keep her all to myself, or I'll let Wooyoung get to her first." Seonghwa's tail whips irritably behind his back like a whip, and he rolls his eyes at Hongjoong.
"If you let his pretty face bump into that pussy, you'll have to deal with a whole bunch of impatient puppies who can't keep their dicks in their trousers. Is that what you want, Hwa?" The auburn-haired alpha chuckles evilly and finally presses against your cunt, a dirty, open-mouthed kiss.
Tears of vague relief run down your face, and you feel Seonghwa's rough, long tongue on your cheeks again.
Your heel tried in vain to kick at the air, and your whole body shook with the fine tremors of Hongjoong's sharp, stinging kisses. Wet as syrup, the wolf's grinning lips cling to your hypersensitive, swollen clit and refuse to let go. Your back arched in an awkward position, and you pressed your pussy closer to his face, literally rubbing against him. His nose is pressed tightly against your wet mound, and his jaw works with every eating movement.
Your slick is everywhere—on his cheeks, his lips, his chin, dripping down his neck, and over the collar of his white t-shirt.
God, it's fucking dirty.
He is ruthless, the movements of his tongue wild, sloppy, and hungry as he digs greedily between your trembling thighs and dripping folds, sucking the sweet nectar of your excitement from the contracting orifice. Lips suck roughly at the edge of the swollen pink flesh, and your shamefully wet insides clench in a disappointing void. Clawed fingers dig painfully into the softness of your thighs, leaving blackened bruises.
A high-pitched squeal gets stuck in your throat as Hongjoong's thumbs force your tender labia apart and his tongue slides deeper. The sensation is almost heavenly. Streams of viscous mucus pour out of you like a waterfall into that beautiful, insatiable mouth, and your whole body shudders in short spasms. Your heel twitches desperately in the air, kicking in vain, and your ears fall back to your face, drooping and muffled with pleasure.
"Ahhhh... daddy."
Seonghwa's fingers wrap around your chin, squeezing painfully, and you lift your head so you're looking into his eyes.
"All your pleasure is mine. Only I will decide when to fuck you, who will fuck you, and how long it will last. When you cum, you will look at me and only me, no matter whose face or cock is in your cunt or tight arse. Do you understand, mommy, my sweet slut?"
Barely aware of all that is happening, you at least try to answer; your mouth opens, but the only sound you make is a long, drawn-out moan.
Apparently that wasn't the answer he wanted, because his other hand snakes down your body, slapping your clit with palpable force. Electric shocks shoot through your body, and you wriggle in the tight grip of the two Alphas, practically folded in half in the uncomfortable leather chair.
 
"Do you understand me, pet?"
"Yeah, yeah, I understand... I understand you, mommy." You shake your head like a doll to confirm this, and a new wave of sobbing sweeps over you.
Hongjoong pulls away from you for a second, his whole face soaked in your sweet slime, and his gaze is wild and unfocused, as if he's drunk. 
"Fuck, I can never get enough of you, fluffy. Daddy's precious princess has the sweetest, most beautiful cunt in the whole world."
"Of course, Joong, that's our bunny." Hwa presses his fingers even harder into your face, the touch turning into a brutal grip. His fluffy tail swishes enthusiastically behind his back. The gaze of Seonghwa's bottomless, hypnotic eyes turns to Hongjoong. His sensual, kissable lips stretch into the exact same toothy smile as the Alpha between your thighs. "Do you want to make it even sweeter?"
It's only a moment before the palm of Seonghwa's hand slaps your swollen, mistreated clit once more. Your body ripples with sharp pain mixed with blissful pleasure. It's a wild mixture of sensations, resembling a combination of sweetness and sharpness.
"Try it, it's definitely better now." He laughed joyfully, like a child, looking down at you.
As soon as the burning sensation has subsided, Hongjoong's mouth locks onto your battered clit, mercilessly sucking and licking it with his hot tongue. He's so insatiable, possessively devouring his beautiful princess's exciting cunt, his face practically smothered in pussy. His hungry mouth is vicious, and his appetite is endless as he devours his selfishly greedy pleasure and demonic features soaked in the sugar nectar of your slime.
As the ferocity of his mouth grows—hungrier and hungrier—you try to pull away, too sensitive and overwhelmed, but a painful slap on your thigh stops all movement.
"And where are you going, fluffy? Daddy's not done playing with you."
Long fingers slide between your delicate creases, opening them wider for second Alpha. Hongjoong moans in appreciation as he gains more access to your quivering hole, swallowing the juices pouring from you with a loud grunt.
He chuckles in sadistic amusement, gazing up at you through impossibly long and thick eyelashes before his predatory wolf lips pull away from your clit to tell:
"Cum for daddy, bunny. Fill me with your cum."
It only takes a second for your body to obediently follow his command, and you come with a high-pitched moan. Huge jets of fluid are spurting out of your used pussy, forming a puddle of it under your arse and dripping down onto the floor.
Your glorious, twisted screams of agonised ecstasy and super-sensual sobs filling the room are music to the ears of these two Alphas.
Seonghwa bends his face over your cunt in order to prolong your orgasm and sucks all the juices out of you as if he were dying of thirst. The sound is utterly animalistic and disgusting, but it makes the fucking slime squirt even harder. Hongjoong's mouth keeps up, sucking mercilessly and lapping at the lush, honey-soaked folds.
The only sounds that come out of your dolly lips are the whimpers and hoarse moans of despair that are so beautiful to them. In the eyes of Seonghwa and Hongjoong, you look amazing - a gorgeous, broken thing, all flushed and obedient for their pleasure.
You should know what disgusting and perverse things they will do to you and how much they will ravage your innocent and fragile body. The party has just started.
These thoughts make their cocks throb and flow in pain, and the knot at the base of it swells up. Seonghwa and Hongjoong look at each other as they keep licking you methodically. Their tongues meet in long, sweeping strokes, caressing each other and mixing all your flavours together. You twitched weakly, half lying back in the chair, limp and exhausted from orgasming.
"Don't you dare fall asleep, honey. We were just at the beginning of our game."
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mclqren · 1 month
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CAR TALK ★ LS2
PAIRING ✦ logan sargeant x fem!youtuber!reader
SUMMARY ✦ on your youtube channel, you post q&a's in your car, and your most recent guest has people speculating about the two of you. [ SMAU ]
WARNINGS ✦ cursing
NOTES ✦ reader lives in america for the purpose of this fic. i know the car doesn't like the same in all of the pictures but that's the best i could do ahaha. the fc i've used is kiana davis, but feel free to picture whoever you want! my requests are open so feel free to leave a request :)
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liked by emmachamberlain, yourbsf, and 582,899 others
yourusername first 'car talk' episode of 2024 is pending...🏎️
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user1 the weekly episodes of car talk have been severely missed this winter vacation.
user2 SO REALLL i've been needing y/n back on my screen
user3 she is actually so perfect it's scary
user4 idc we needdd a car talk x chicken shop date crossover asap
yourusername @/ameliadimz thoughts??
ameliadimz we can look into this 👀
user5 OKAY BUT CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE CAPTION?? THE RACECAR??
user6 she HASSS to be interviewing some f1 driver.
emmachamberlain YUMMYYYY
yourusername 😍😍
yourbsf MY BEST FRIENDDD!!
yourusername ALWAYSSS
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liked by logansargeant, yourbsf, and 552,110 others
yourusername 'car talk' ep 1 of 2024 coming this saturday 👀🏎️
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user8 IT'S DEF A F1 DRIVERRR THE SHIRT IS A DEAD GIVEAWAY
user9 oh ABSOLUTELY
user10 her facecardddd oh my gosh
user11 been missing your videos queen!
user12 okay but like which f1 driver do we think it is??
user13 crazy thing is she has like five or six of them following her/in her likes right now, so it could technically be any of them
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tagged logansargeant
yourusername 'car talk' ft logan sargeant out now!! one of my favorite episodes i've filmed so far ❤️
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user18 WOWWW IT WAS LOGAN THE ENTIRE TIME??
user19 I KNOWWW
user20 yall's chemistry was through the roof. i was sweating just watching the episode
alex_albon 👀
user21 LMAOOO ALEX WHAT DO YOU KNOW
logansargeant Best driver/farm animal expert/youtuber 🙌
yourusername yessirrrr ❤️
user22 HELP NOT ALL OF Y/N'S PROFESSIONS
user23 he had to make sure he got all of them in
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tagged yourusername
logansargeant Thanks again to the crazy lady who drove me around the city, almost killed me in the process, asked intrusive questions about my life and took me to visit a farm. Had a blast 🏆
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user24 HIM CALLING Y/N OUT FOR HER DRIVING HELPPP
user25 why do i actually kinda ship them...
user26 no ur so real for this.
yourusername you're so welcome!! ( i'm at ur door for mentioning my driving abilities )
logansargeant I'LL TAKE IT BACK SORRY
alex_albon 👀
user27 HIM COMMENTING THE SAME THING ON BOTH THEIR POSTS I'M CREASING
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liked by logansargeant, yourbsf, and 533,002 others
yourusername brb, currently escaping to dc 👋
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user29 why is she the most perfect girl everrrr
user30 LITERAL MODEL.
user31 logan has now taken his spot as permanent liker of y/n's posts
user32 is it just me who wants to see logan & y/n together again??
user33 NOT JUST YOU!!
logansargeant Maybe you should come down to Florida sometime??🙌
user34 LOGAN SHOOTING HIS SHOTTT
user35 @/user34 or they could just be friends?? 🤷‍♀️
user36 @/user35 let us be delusional please.
yourbsf photography creditsss??
yourusername yes yes all to you!
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liked by logansargeant, emmachamberlain, and 544,110 others
yourusername back on the move ✈️
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user40 RIGHT BEFORE THE SEASON STARTS ASW??
user41 i smell a bahrain visit!!
user42 okay but her hair is my most favorite thing everrr
alex_albon 👀
user43 MR ALBON BACK W THE EYESSS
user44 WHAT DOES HE KNOW.
logansargeant 🙌❤️❤️
liked by yourusername
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logansargeant Bahrain ✔️ Girlfriend ✔️ Mission Accomplished ✔️
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user47 "mission accomplished" THE PLAN HAS BEEN BREWINGG
user48 FINALLY MY FAVSSS
user49 crazy car guy x even crazier car lady is my new favourite trope
user50 SO REAL FOR THISSS
alex_albon already knew this'd happen 🤷‍♂️
logansargeant So you've mentioned!!
user51 he's been trying to help yall out AS HE SHOULD.
yourusername be glad i didn't kill you that time i took you driving, otherwise you never would've gotten to ask me to be your girlfriend. ❤️❤️
logansargeant Thankful every day 🙏
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yourusername new car talk episode incoming this time with my BOYFRIENDDD 🥳🥳
user52 THEY'RE THE CUTESTTT
user53 she looks so happy omg
user54 if you hurt her logan we're all after you. 😁
yourbsf so im a third wheel now??
yourusername nahh he can third wheel us bbg 😉😉
lilymhe ANOTHER FEMALE IN THE WILLIAMS PADDOCK THANK YOU LORD
yourusername i'll make you my latest car talk victim 😍
lilymhe sign me upppp!!
user55 im sensing a double date car talk incoming
user56 'the eyes, chico. they never lie' @ logan in the second picture
yourusername @/logansargeant LOOLLLL WISHING I MADE THIS THE CAPTION
logansargeant My fav ex-farm employee ❤️
yourusername still prefer the sheep to you ❤️❤️
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ellemj · 5 months
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What Am I To You?
Bucky Barnes x Reader One-Shot: SMUT
Summary: You pissed your fuck buddy off and now he only has one question, but it takes a few orgasms to get the right answer out of you.
Warnings: profanity, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, facesitting, light choking, light breeding kink, no use of y/n, praise, spanking, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires any other warnings. Thank you to @littlemiss-yeehaw for the ones listed above, she's a gem.
Word Count: 4.4k
A/N: This filth came from a random 4am thought that created the dialogue in the first paragraph. I had to use it. Everyone should totally beg @littlemiss-yeehaw to post the horny lil sketch she started for this one-shot. Side note, should I start a tag list for people who want to be tagged in all fics I post? Idk, I'm still way too new to Tumblr to be running a blog like this lmfao. I need a team of advisors.
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         “Do you know who the fuck you’re talking to? Get on the bed, I’ll show you.” You stay where you are, standing in the doorway of his bedroom with your arms crossed over your chest in a show of defiance. “Get on the fucking bed, right now.” He repeats, pointing a finger at his bed. You can tell by the look in his eyes that he’s seconds away from dishing out a punishment, one that he’ll enjoy far more than you, so you shuffle forward and crawl onto the bed as he watches. Good girl.
You’ve been here before. You know what he wants from you. He wants you on your hands and knees, with no looking back over your shoulder to see what’s coming. So that’s how you settle yourself, on your hands and knees, staring down at the soft, ruffled up bedding beneath you.
“What am I to you?” He asks, his tone scarily calm and even. You take a deep breath and close your eyes. What kind of answer is he looking for? You’re just fuck buddies. You use each other to de-stress after missions. It’s never been anything more, not once in the past two months that it’s been going on has there ever been so much as a hint that it could be something more.
“I don’t know.” You answer honestly. You listen intently as the familiar sound of Bucky’s belt buckle coming undone fills the silence in the room. A chill races through your body, dancing across the surface of your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.
“You don’t know…” Bucky tsks. You can’t see him, but he’s standing a couple of feet away from the foot of the bed, letting his eyes rake over your nearly exposed ass as he unbuttons his shirt. The little black dress that you’re wearing barely covers anything with the position you’re in, and he’s fucking thankful for it. In fact, if you hadn’t pissed him off tonight, he probably would’ve found some way to fuck you during the mission just because of that dress. But you pissed him off. “I’ll help you figure it out.” Bucky steps forward now, his warm right hand and cool, metal left hand both gracing the skin of your right ankle as he begins taking off your heels. He drops one to the floor before moving on to the other, and then he strips his shirt off and tosses it to the side as well.
“I thought we were just—”
“You don’t want to finish that sentence.” Bucky warns, effectively cutting you off and giving you a chance to save yourself. It’s beyond clear now that this isn’t just a fuck buddies situation to him anymore. It did start out that way though. Two months ago when you two stumbled into bed together, he proposed a friends-with-benefits type of relationship so casually that you would’ve thought he’d had plenty of them in his lifetime. It worked so well, with the two of you meeting up once or twice a week at either your place or his to blow off steam with good sex. It wasn’t until you were a month in that Bucky started to realize he hated the way you’d leave within half an hour of finishing each other off. He hated that you never slept over. He hated that you still had the freedom to talk to other guys, hell, you could even go out on dates with other guys if you wanted and he wouldn’t be able to say shit about it. Because this was nothing. It was just a casual agreement between friends.
Bucky trails his fingers along your calves slowly, taking his time as he decides what he’s going to do with you. Every other time that you’ve been together, he’s let it be a mutually beneficial thing. There was never a time where only one of you pleased the other, because that would’ve defeated the purpose of the arrangement. He would’ve been perfectly content with solely pleasuring you here and there, giving you everything while taking nothing for himself, but you always reciprocated and he never stopped you. But now, he’s going to do exactly what he wants. He’s going to show you what he is to you in the best way that he knows how: by making you come undone for him, by reminding you that no one else has ever or will ever make you feel the way that he can.
As Bucky pulls his hands away from your calves, you hear the sound of his pants dropping to the floor, the sound of his dog tags shifting around his neck and tapping against his bare chest with his movements, and then the sound of a deep sigh leaving his lips. Anticipation courses through your veins and mixes with adrenaline, creating a dangerous compound that only seems to encourage the wetness seeping into your panties. You shift on the bed, wiggling your hips and wishing you could clench your thighs together for even the smallest amount of friction. Bucky, of course, notices you moving and quickly gains control of the situation.
“Impatient, huh? Do you need something?” He questions slyly, letting his hands connect with your calves once again. You’re fooled by his gentle touch, your body not at all expecting his flesh hand to suddenly smack against your ass. “Answer me.” Holy shit. He’s never been quite like this with you before.
“I need you.” You answer, hoping he’ll give you anything in return.
“You don’t even know what I am to you, yet you need me?”
“Bucky…” Your voice trails off as his hands glide further up your legs, past the crooks of your knees and along the sides of your thighs. When both of his hands reach the curve of your ass, he begins pushing the hem of your dress up around your waist. The silence is deafening.
He wasn’t planning to be so rough with you, but as soon as his eyes land on the tiny black thong that was previously hidden beneath your tiny black dress, his hands start functioning on autopilot. A low groan rumbles past his lips as he pulls your panties to the side with his vibranium hand and shoves two fingers into your cunt, without a single breath of a warning.
“BUCKY!” You cry out, arching your back and trying to pull away from him. He moves his vibranium hand to grip your left hip, holding you firmly in place while his fingers are still buried knuckle-deep within you. Giving you little time to adjust, he begins sliding them in and out, in and out, giving himself a chance to feel how wet and tight you are for him. Fuck. It’s going to test every bit of his resolve and self-discipline to get through what he plans to do to you tonight.
“That’s it, say my name.” He encourages you, pumping his fingers in and out at a steady pace. When he leans in and attaches his lips to your clit, you fist the bedding in both hands and squeeze your eyes shut. Breathy moans and curses fall from your lips as his tongue circles over the most sensitive part of your body, all while his two fingers are curling inside of you. You’ve never been one to go careening toward an orgasm with little-to-no effort, but Bucky is skilled. That familiar knot is twisting tighter and tighter in your lower stomach as he relentlessly toys with your pussy.  He can tell you’re already close to your first orgasm of the night, and as much as he wants to withhold it until you admit that he means something to you, he wants to see you come undone for him even more.
“Bucky, I’m close.” Your voice is breathless, all of your energy is focused on actively denying yourself of your release. For the briefest second, you wonder why your body won’t just go ahead and cum, but then you realize that you want his permission. You want him to tell you to let go, to cum on his fingers and lips. Bucky fucks his fingers into you a little harder and deeper, reaching a spot that has your eyes rolling back in your head and your toes curling. Another loud moan from you has Bucky digging his vibranium fingers into your hip with enough force to leave bruises. He knows you’re right on the edge, and it takes him only a second to figure out why you’re not letting go. He pulls his head back for a moment but lets his fingers continue their work.
“Do you want to cum for me, baby?” He asks. There’s a teasing lilt to his voice that sends heat rushing to your cheeks. You nod your head fervently and he chuckles at your neediness. “Who gets you this wet? This desperate for release?” Fuck.
“You, Bucky.” You moan out your response as he pulls his fingers nearly all the way out and slides them back in at the slowest pace yet.
“Who else?” He demands to know, picking up the pace once again.
“No one, only you.” Your answer is honest and it earns you his mouth back on your clit. He sucks and licks at it like his life depends on your impending orgasm. He gets you right back to the edge within seconds, before breaking away from your clit momentarily just to say cum for me. Your orgasm washes over you in an instant, your pussy clenching down on his two fingers as you unintentionally grind against his mouth. He flattens his tongue against your clit and lets you take everything you need. After a few more seconds of immense pleasure, the legs and arms that have been so dutifully holding you up are threatening to collapse.
“What am I to you?” Bucky repeats his question from earlier, but still, your answer is the same.
“I don’t know.” Your voice is quieter now, weaker since the first orgasm took so much energy out of you. Bucky shakes his head, though you can’t see him from your current position. He didn’t think you’d have a better answer after just one orgasm, but he’s going to give you a chance after each one anyway.
“Lay on your back.” Bucky commands. You do as you’re told. As you finally make eye contact with him, he can see the thankfulness in your gaze. You were getting tired of holding the same position. Bucky steps forward and places one knee on the bed, his hands sliding up your thighs. His fingers snag along the waistband of your thong before he begins pulling it down your legs. You bend your knees to make it easier, and he slips it off gently before dropping it on the floor with your heels and his clothes. He climbs onto the bed now, your legs instantly spreading to let him between them. He crawls over your body and the new sensation of his warm skin against yours is delicious. You wish he would’ve taken your dress off already. When you feel the outline of his hard cock, still covered by his boxers, pressing against your wet, sensitive cunt, your eyes flutter closed and your legs instinctively wrap around his hips. You’ve always been a sucker for this, for having him pressed against you so close yet not close enough. It’s always made you a bit feral and Bucky’s fully aware of that. A knowing smirk spreads across his features as he puts a little more weight into your position, pressing his cock against you a little harder. When you open your eyes and look up at him, he has to remind himself that he can’t just give in a fuck the shit out of you right now. He has an end goal.
“Why do we still have clothes on?” You ask, referring to your dress and his boxers. Bucky chuckles lowly starts circling his hips against you, drawing a soft hum from your pretty lips. He dips his head down and starts leaving light kisses along the side of your neck. He knows that’s a weakness of yours too, his mouth anywhere on your skin. It’s one of the first tactics he deploys when he wants to fuck but he isn’t sure if you’re up for it or not.
“Do you want our clothes off?” Bucky breathes the question against the skin just below your earlobe and you find yourself having trouble concentrating. He can feel you nod, but he doesn’t actually give a damn about what you want right now. He’s not a monster though, so he’ll give you half of what you want. He pushes himself off of you in one swift movement and stands on the floor beside the bed. You turn your head to watch as he slides his boxers down his legs and kicks them off. They join the pile that consists of the rest of his clothes, your heels, and your thong on the floor. When he returns to his position on top of you, you stick out your bottom lip in a pout over him not removing your dress. He’s quick to lean in and suck that bottom lip in between his teeth, biting down on it lightly before slipping his tongue into your mouth. He always tastes so fucking good, though you can never pinpoint what he tastes like. It’s just him. Honestly, you’d let him spit in your mouth if he wanted to.
Bucky kisses a lot like he fucks, with so much passion that it makes your heart race and your mind reel. It makes you think about how mediocre every other kiss with any other guy was, about how kissing was just a minor part of foreplay until you started kissing him. Now kissing is everything. Your hands travel up his sides and settle on either side of his face as you fight to deepen the kiss. When you suck on his tongue, he groans into your mouth and pulls back. You love the way his lips and nose get pink when he kisses you like that.
“No more kissing.” Bucky rasps. You let out a whine that makes his cock twitch. He loves hearing how needy you are for him, but it’s especially enjoyable when he hears how needy you are just for him to kiss you. He starts grinding his now bare cock along the folds of your pussy with just the right amount of pressure, focusing his efforts on your clit. He probably should’ve used his mouth and fingers again for this one, because he’s far too close to cumming just from feeling how wet you are against his shaft. His cock collects your wetness more and more with each thrust of his hips, and for a second he thinks about just letting the tip slide in. He won’t do it though, not yet. He won’t put his cock inside of you until he’s ready to make you cum for the third time.
“You’re being a tease tonight.” You pout, letting your hands find his hips and using your grasp there to pull him harder against you. He stills himself and you let out a frustrated sigh. Why isn’t he giving you more?
“You’re being greedy. You already came once, you should be saying thank you.” Bucky retorts, pushing himself up with his hands and sitting back on his knees between your legs. Your eyes are quick to zone in on his cock, just as his flesh hand is wrapping around it and giving it a firm stroke from the base to the tip. God, you’ve always loved seeing him touch himself. He doesn’t do it in front of you often. Normally the two of you are quick to get down to business and just fuck, but there have been a few very memorable times where you get to see him stroke his cock right before he guides it inside of you. Your tongue darts out, wetting your bottom lip, and for a second Bucky imagines that same tongue all over his fucking cock. No. This isn’t about him tonight. This is about finally making you see what’s been right in front of you all along.
“Please.” The word leaves your lips so softly, so gently, that Bucky’s hand hesitates around his length. He’s never heard you beg before. You’ve never had a reason to, he always gave you what you needed, before you had to ask. A dark feeling settles within his chest as he realizes he likes it.
“Please?” He repeats the word, as if he doesn’t understand the meaning. You see the way his gaze changes from one of lust to one of pure desire. He wants more.
“Please, Bucky. Fuck me.” You give him the most innocent look you can muster up as you lay there in his bed with your pussy exposed and nearly dripping onto his bedding. He tightens his fist around the base of his cock and scrunches his eyes closed, clearly trying to talk himself down from blowing his load way too fucking soon. If he sits there and looks at you any longer, he won’t last, he won’t be able to make it to his end goal tonight. The only thing he can think of to keep himself on track is something that’ll easily obscure his vision of you.
“No, you’re going to sit on my face.” He says roughly, positioning himself on his back next to you. He looks over at you impatiently, he almost looks offended that you’re not already changing positions for him. You’re quick to sit up and swing a leg over his torso, straddling his chest but not making any contact with him yet. “I said my face, sweetheart.”
“I know, but—” You’re about to point out that he’s already eaten you out once tonight and you haven’t even had the chance to reciprocate, when he abruptly grasps your thighs and pulls you over his head. “Fuck.” You mumble the curse word out as he easily pulls you down, your cunt making contact with his mouth as he dives in. You can’t form a single thought as his tongue delves into you. He fucks you with it almost as thoroughly as he did with his fingers just a few minutes ago, thrusting it in and out while your clit brushes against the tip of his nose. His hands slide back to grip your ass and you have to brace your hands on the headboard to keep from putting your full weight on his face. He can feel your resistance and he hates it. He lifts you up an inch just to chastise you.
“I said sit on my fucking face, not hover over it.” He pulls you down again but this time he brings his right hand in to rub harsh circles against your clit as his tongue continues its work on your entrance. You’re panting and breaking out in a sweat within a few seconds. You still haven’t fully sat on his face, so he’s going to give you one more punishment and see if you’ll give in. His vibranium hand moves away from you and the swings back once more, slapping your ass so hard that you fall forward a bit, your cunt landing firmly against Bucky’s mouth. He hums against your pussy in approval, and the sound sends vibrations through your core. Fuck. You’re going to cum a second time and he hasn’t even fucked you yet. When he sets just the right pressure and pace with his flesh fingers on your clit, and his tongue starts lapping into you like eating pussy is his fucking career, your orgasm hits you like a freight train. Your chest is heaving and your knuckles are turning white as your death grip on the headboard threatens to bruise your palms.
“Fuck, I’m cumming. Oh my god, Bucky!” You cry the words out so loudly, yet your voice sounds so far away in your own ears as your orgasm short circuits your entire nervous system. After a few seconds, you realize you’re grinding lazy circles against Bucky’s mouth, and he’s letting you. “Shit.” You mutter, using all of your remaining strength to try to dismount his face. He grasps your thighs to stop you, and then places a long, gentle kiss right against your clit, sucking on it in the slightest bit as he pulls back. Then, he lets you go. You collapse on the bed next to him, your breasts threatening to spill over the low-cut neckline of your dress from tonight’s activities thus far.
“What am I to you?” Bucky asks a third time, rolling onto his side to face you. He gazes at you with a much gentler expression than earlier as he brushes a few loose strands of hair away from your face. He thinks you look so damn perfect like this. You always glow after sex, but after two orgasms you could be mistaken for the fucking sun.
“Bucky…” Your voice trails off as you desperately search your brain for the answer he’s looking for. He obviously doesn’t want you to say that he’s your fuck buddy, and maybe he isn’t. You probably shouldn’t feel as jealous as you do when he ends up on missions with Sharon instead of you, that’s not very fuck-buddy-friendly of you. You also probably shouldn’t hate the few minutes after sex when he’s catching his breath in bed while you’re pulling your clothes on, hoping he won’t be annoyed with how long it takes you to get out of his apartment. Maybe you’re more than fuck buddies. But still, you don’t know what to call it. “I’m not sure.”
“You’re not sure.” Bucky repeats slowly, as if he’s tasting the words. His facial expression remains gentle, but the light in his eyes darkens. “Take off your dress.” He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You push yourself up and sit on the side of the bed before pulling the dress over your head and letting it fall to the floor. You haven’t even had the chance to lay back down when he starts moving to sit right behind you, letting his legs come around either side of you so your back presses against his chest. Ah, you see where he’s going with this. The wall that you’re both now facing has a tall standing mirror, giving you the perfect view of your naked body in front of his in the dim light of his bedroom. “Look at yourself.” Bucky coos, cupping your chin with his flesh hand and tilting your head up the tiniest bit. “So fucking pretty.”
His words have you blushing for some reason. Of all of the times you’ve been naked in his bed, you don’t recall him ever saying sweet things to you just for the sake of saying them. Maybe he thought them, you wouldn’t know, but he sure as hell never said them. It sends a wave of warmth throughout your body, and your already pink-tinged cheeks take on another layer of blush. With almost no effort, Bucky places his hands on your hips and pushes you up to a standing position. He then tucks his legs between yours and then grips his cock in his hand. He gives it a few slow pumps before angling you above it and then guiding you to sit down. Right on his fucking dick. The moan that leaves your lips as your head falls back against his shoulder could’ve come from amateur porn. The penetration feels as if it’s happening in slow motion, as you take one-fourth, then half, then three-fourths, and then…his entire fucking cock inside of you.
“That’s it, baby, all of it.” Bucky begins peppering kisses across your neck and right shoulder, but his eyes are locked on the mirror, staring at where the two of you are connected. “Whose fingers make you cum?” He asks, as his right hand skims down your side, straight to your clit. He uses his middle and ring fingers to start gently massaging your already-sensitive clit. You lift your head to meet his gaze in the mirror.
“Yours.” You answer quietly, slowly beginning to slide up and down his length. You’re only moving an inch at a time, not yet adjusted nor ready to fuck his cock how it deserves to be fucked.
“Good girl.” Why does such simple praise from him make you feel like you’re having a mini orgasm on the spot? Jesus. You start fucking half of his cock now, lifting yourself up and then sitting back down, but not daring to pull off anywhere near the tip. “Whose mouth makes you cum?”
“Yours.” You say again, a little louder this time as the pleasure begins building low in your stomach once more.
“That’s right, you’re doing so good for me, baby.” Bucky picks up the pace with his hand. His work on your clit is making stars flash in your vision and your pussy continuous clench around his cock. “And who do you let cum in this perfect little pussy? Huh? Who does this belong to?” He asks, his eyes once again drifting down in the mirror until they land on where his cock is disappearing inside of you. He groans as you sit fully down on it again.
“You, Bucky.” You moan, now fully adjusted to his thick length. You start bouncing on it, unable to control yourself any longer. Bucky’s having none of that. He quickly slides his flesh hand up your stomach, between your breasts, and wraps it around your neck. He isn’t choking you, he’s merely gaining your full attention with an authoritative move. You freeze, your eyes locking onto his in the mirror as you sit there with his entire length inside of you.
“I’m going to fuck the shit out of you, and then I’m going to cum inside you so fucking deep that you might end up pregnant.” His filthy words give you as much pleasure as any touch, any kiss, any physical thing he could ever do to you. Your pussy tightens around him at the promise that he’s just spoken. “Now tell me, why would you be here right now, letting me do that? What am I to you?”
“Everything.”
Finally, you gave him the right answer.
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pixiis-blog · 2 years
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So I just had to make the really difficult decision to not go to Kumoricon this year. And it fucking sucks.
I was looking forward to con this year and had all the motivation to make a cosplay, go to panels, and had a hotel booked and everything.
Then about 2 weeks ago con staff decided to announce ONE MONTH BEFORE CON that they decided to require kn95 masks for all attendees ages 2 and up. No cloth masks under any circumstances. All when finally, finally everything is starting to calm down in my city and the county this con will be held in.
There was absolutely no reason to require them and no data to back up the concerns. If they had presented concerning data of cases and or hospitalizations here in the county like my employer has done for the last 6 months, I would be more agreeable. If they had even just said 'any mask just don't go without one' I'd be begrudgingly ok with it.
But now because of my sensory processing issues I've been so stressed out trying to prepare myself for a weekend of blisters behind my ears and not being able to breathe, on top of my issues lately of not being able to regulate my body temperature. I'm so stressed out that I said fuck it to the first cosplay I actually budgeted for and was actively working on every day after work for the last two months. My first ever cosplay was going to be this year. And now it won't see the light of day for months to years. Because it will have this negative association.
So thank you Kumoricon staff, I will not be attending your convention this year, especially after you so poorly handled the reaction to your news the last few weeks. If you can get your shit together, maybe I might come back next year but I hope you're happy. Because I'm not the only person making this decision.
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batfleshh · 6 months
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Secret
Captain Price x M!DogHybrid!Reader
Warnings: MORE HYBRID SHIT, I’m in a Price mood Ngl, bjs and shit, uhh workplace sex?? Idk, cigar smoking, uhh idk you’re under a desk and someone comes in, gay, bleh, no established relationship?, not proof read
★ Being hired as a hybrid to work with the Task force meant many responsibilities. A lot of those responsibilities meant being around the captain a lot. You didn’t complain, following orders was just something you were meant to do. If he called for you, you would come. Like a dog to its owner, you didn’t complain or get annoyed when you saw him. You were fine with the captain, even enjoying his company from time to time. Sometimes he would just call you in to sit in his office, strike up a conversation involving a topic or two before sending you on your way. It didn’t bother you, even if it was just to collect a few pieces of information from you.
★ Some would even make jokes about you two getting it on in his office, Price quickly shutting down the idea being spread by any dumb rookie. You would just chuckle at the comments, the way he would immediately stop the words from spreading would surprise you. It wasn’t like it was a lie, anyway. When someone would bring up that joke, your mind would immediately skip to what you did in his office last night. Your ears would twitch on your head, tail wagging out of sight while Price chewed out the recruit. He was hot when he was serious, you weren’t going to lie. You were always more than excited when he would use that tone on you, too. The way he could easily command you always made your stomach feel warm, the instinct to be obedient to him made it easier for you to comply.
★ The jokes floating among the rookies weren’t just pulled out of thin air, most of the time. A few could swear on their lives that the few times they’ve walked by his office, muffled groans could be heard on the other side. Others, they heard quiet whimpers, or the quiet rocking of his desk. Maybe the captain just liked to do certain activities in his office, and no one had the balls to ask what they were. But deep down, they all came to the conclusion that Price was in there having his way with you. The way you submit to him wasn’t unnoticed, even though it could just pass as you being a loyal hybrid.
★ And maybe that was what it was that was making you like this, the need to please an authority figure making you more vulnerable to him. And for the many times noises were heard, that’s exactly what was happening inside. The shuffling of a desk rocking and the whimpers were no mistakenly the heard sound, the captain fucking into you at a brutal pace as you were bent over his desk. Tears collected in your eyes as you moan and whine, his rough hands holding you in place. One of his hands was kept on your neck, holding you still. The other was holding onto that tail of yours, keeping it from getting in the way. In a way, he found its frantic movements adorable, your body giving non verbal signs of enjoyment.
★ Then there was the groaning, that one giving itself away sometimes. You would be in his office, snug sitting under his desk on your knees. You had come in maybe thirty minutes before, a hazy look in your eyes as he looks up at you from his papers. He calls you over, asking every appropriate question before inviting you under his desk. He makes sure you want it, grabbing your chin gently and making you look up at him. He asks one more time for good measure, finally letting you free his cock from his pants as he continues to smoke on his lit cigar. After a few minutes, your slowly easing his cock into your mouth, quiet whimpers leaving your throat.
★ Price doesn’t force it in, or pull it out of your mouth. He knows to let you take your time, this being some sort of stress reliever to you. Every once in a while he’ll reach down and stroke his hand through your hair, chuckling at the sound of your tail thumping against the wood of his desk. The smell of the cigar fills your nose as you continue to suck on his cock, your eyes still holding that hazy hue as you look up at him most of the time. At one point, he blows the smoke of the cigar playfully down at you, chuckling as you groan and try to swat the smoke away. You both sit in a comfortable silence for a while, enjoying each others company.
★ Well it was quiet, until you heard the unmistakable sound of a knock on the door. You panic, sitting up quickly only to hit your head on his desk. You whine, rubbing at your now throbbing head as you look up at Price, panicked. He gently shushes you, grabbing your chin and slowly guiding you back to his cock. You open your mouth obediently, even though your eyes hold so much confusion. He presses a finger to his lips, a small “shh” sound leaving from behind it as he moves his chair closer to his desk. You choke slightly on his cock, small noises leaving you as you wait for his instructions. What surprises you is when you hear a very audible “come in!” from the captain, your eyes holding a slight sense of fear. He just sneaks his hand down slowly to gently rub at your ears, putting his cigar out as the person walks in.
★ Its a casual conversation on details for a mission you’re all going on, Prices hand leaving from below the desk to shuffle around some files on top of it. The recruit stays longer than you would like for them to, taking Prices cock out of your mouth and licking at his tip. You smirk slightly as he glances down at you, fully aware of what you’re doing. Your tail thumps quietly against the floor, almost wanting for you both to get caught. Price clears his throat and leans back slightly and continues talking to the recruit, his foot slowly moving to press down on your tail, a quiet noise of shock leaving you as his boot holds it in place.
★ When the recruit finally leaves, Prices chair is moved back out, his foot moving off of your tail as he glares down at you. You give him a playful smile, yelping somewhat in surprise as his hand moves to the back of your head. Your head is forced down on his cock, pathetic whimpers and small gags leaving you as he guides your head on his length, drool seeping from around his cock as you let him do it. Tears prickle in your eyes as he stills his movements, hand pressing your head down and releasing down your throat. He slowly eases his dick out of your mouth, watching you cough quietly and swallow. He hands you a small water bottle he has sitting on his desk, tucking his cock back into his pants as you drink from it. He moves his chair out to let you leave, only for you to shake your head. He hums, moving back in and letting you follow through with your own idea as he moves to his papers again. You hum contently, resting your head on his lap.
★ Who wouldn’t want that kind of attention from their Captain?
~ ★
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alisonwritesimagines · 7 months
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Please Don't Be In Love With Someone Else ~LA!Shanks x Reader x LA!Mihawk Imagine~
Summary: You keep waiting for Shanks. But someone new comes along and suddenly, you're not so lonely.
Author’s Note: You read the title correctly. I'm evilly laughing right now as you read this in pain. Also, this is technically a rewrite of the angst ending cause the one I wrote and in my drafts is more fluff than angst.
Angst Ending to I Was Enchanted to Meet You
Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her
Warnings: angst, fluff, but angst to all you Shanks lovers
Side Note: This is a secondary blog. If you comment a question down below, I will not answer since this is not the main blog. Please send the question to my inbox if you want a response back!
Do not repost this anywhere!
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It had been years since you last saw Shanks. And it's been a year since you last saw Luffy. Ever since he was old enough to sail off in the world to find the One Piece to become King of the Pirates, you had been by yourself since. Of course you did a lot for your small village to keep you occupied but you still missed your boys.
You were tending to your garden as it was time for you to harvest before it became spoiled and over grown. That was until you heard someone say something behind you.
“You don’t seem like someone who can harm a fly."
You turned around to see the warlord Dracule Mihawk standing before you. You stood up straight to seemed less intimidated.
“I can hurt a fly. Don’t think I’m good at harming anyone else,” you tell him as you crossed your arms.
“I see.”
“I know who you are so what do you want?” You asked.
“I was sent to kill you but in all honesty, I don’t think I can kill you. You’re too beautiful to be killed,” he tells you.
“Who sent you to kill me?” You asked, now worried. You’ve stayed in the island since you were born. Not only that, you stayed even when Luffy left.
“Not to worry now. I don't have any intentions to kill you," he tells you.
"Then what are you still doing here?"
"I'm curious to see why someone would send me to go after you."
"Feel free to stay. Just to tell you, it's going to be quite boring," you tell him.
Mihawk stayed around the next day to watch over you. He didn't understand why Vice Admiral Garp would want a warlord like him to kill a sweet little thing like yourself. You did nothing of the sort that would be considered dangerous or even pirate bounty level dangerous.
"Ow!" You yelled as you accidently burnt yourself with the pan.
"What happened? What's wrong?" Mihawk asked you as he rushed inside your home.
"Just burned myself," you tell him.
Mihawk quickly grabbed your bucket of water before gently putting your finger in the cool liquid.
"Thanks," you tell him.
"Of course."
"I made extras if you'd like. I got used to cooking for two," you tell him.
"Was it for you and your past lover?" Mihawk asked you.
"Not really surprisingly. I used to take care of a little boy who used to live with me who had a bottomless stomach. He wanted to become a pirate so he set sail a year ago," you tell him.
"I see."
"So, dinner?"
"Why not."
Mihawk stayed for a couple more weeks before he needed to back out to sea. You stood on the deck as you watched Mihawk get ready to leave.
"So I guess this is farewell?" You asked him.
"For now. I will be back in a month at most," he tells you.
"To finish me off and claim your berry?" You asked.
"No. To come see you again," Mihawk said before sailing off. You shook your head at him before walking back to your home.
You assumed Mihawk was lying or joking when he said he was coming back to see you. But to your surprise, you opened your door to see him standing before you.
"Brought you some new seeds for you to grow in your garden," Mihawk tells you.
"I'm guessing you're staying for dinner?" You asked with a small smile.
"If you'd have me," Mihawk said. You nodded before letting him inside your house.
-
As much as you didn't want to admit, you fell for Mihawk. Even though part of you hoped for Shanks to come back, you appreciated the fact that no matter how long Mihawk was gone for or even if he was wounded badly, he came back to you. Even though Shanks would come back to you, he hasn't for years.
"Will you be mine?" Mihawk asked you one night. After a midnight stroll, you both headed back to your home. Mihawk stopped you from walking inside by holding your hand.
"What?" You asked in shock.
"Be mine. I've fallen for you Y/n. And I swear to you, I would never let anything happen to you," Mihawk tells you.
"Alright. I'll be yours," you tell him. Mihawk gave you a small smile before pulling you towards him.
"May I kiss you?" Mihawk asked you.
"Yes."
Mihawk cupped your cheek with his hand before leaning in to kiss you.
-
Shanks rushed over to your home after being away for so many years. He was excited to tell you his adventures and was looking forward to seeing you once again. He knocked on your door, his heart pounding in excitement.
Instead of seeing you, he saw someone else open the door. His smile faltered as he stared at the stranger in front of him.
"May I help you?" The stranger asked him.
"My apologies. I was hoping to find Y/n L/n? The woman who lived here?" Shanks asked.
"Oh. I'm sorry. She's been gone for quite sometime. She left the village I want to say two years ago? Her and her husband moved to another island."
"Her husband?"
"Yes. I'm surprised she married a warlord but he had been kind to the village whenever he was here," the stranger pointed out.
"Do you happened to know her husband's name?"
"I believe it was Dracule Mihawk."
Shanks made it to Mihawk's castle where he knew you would be at. After demanding to see you, Mihawk came out to talk to him.
"You should know my wife is resting," Mihawk tells him.
"You took her from me," Shanks angrily tell him.
"I didn't take her from anyone. When I met her, she was alone," Mihawk informs him.
"She never told you about me?" Shanks asked.
"No she has. I just never told her that I knew you."
"Please. Let me see her!" Shanks asked.
"Let me see if she's well enough to move," Mihawk said.
"Is she sick?" Shanks asked.
"Not entirely."
Shanks waited anxiously for you to come down. His eyes widen when he saw Mihawk helping you down. Your stomach was large but he knew that it was because you were pregnant. And what's worse was that it wasn't Shanks's child you were carrying. It was Mihawk's child.
"Shanks?" You asked in shock.
"Hi, Y/n."
-
You sat in the garden with Shanks alone so you two could talk. Shanks stared at you, admiring your beauty once more. While you thought you were alone, Shanks knew that Mihawk was watching nearby.
“Are you happy my love?” Shanks asked you as he held your hand.
“I am. Hawk Eye makes me happy,” you tell him with a small smile.
“I’m happy that you’re happy.”
“I did wait for you Shanks. I really did. But I feared that if I waited any longer, I’d be too old for you,” you tell him with a frown.
“You could never be too old for me. You could have white hair and many wrinkles and I’d still think you’re the most beautiful woman in the world,” Shanks tells you. You smiled at him before tearing up.
“I loved you Shanks. And I’m sorry I didn’t wait for you longer."
“Don’t apologize my love. I’m sorry I didn’t come back to you sooner,” Shanks said. You nodded before taking off your makeshift necklace that held the ring Shanks gave to you. You handed it over to Shanks before kissing his cheek.
“I hope life treats you well and I hope you find a woman who will love you endlessly as much as I did,” you tell him.
“And if Hawk Eyes dares to lay a hand on you, come find me. I’ll protect you.”
“I know you will."
"So this is goodbye then huh?" Shanks asked you.
"If you find Luffy, tell him I miss him and love him dearly. And that, he's more than welcome to visit me or find me whenever he wants," you tell him. After all, Luffy was yours and Shanks's unofficial son and you two were his unofficial parents.
"Goodbye, Shanks,” you tell him before giving him a kiss on the cheek once more.
“Goodbye, my love.”
You sat on the couch in your lounge room waiting for your son to arrive with his new fiancée. Twenty five years had gone by and you had lived your life. Dracule sat next to you as you both waited for your son to come home. Now that your husband has retired from being a pirate, he had spent his time with you while your children explored the world.
“I wonder what she’ll be like,” you tell your husband.
“I trust his judgement. After all, I chose well didn’t I?” Dracule joked.
“You most certainly did,” you smiled.
“Mom! Dad! I’m home!” You heard your son say.
“Over here!” You called from where you were.
You smiled at your son the moment he walked in but your eyes widen from the sight of the woman next to him. Not only did she have the exact same hair as Shanks, but she also had the same eyes as him. It was no doubt that she was Shanks's daughter.
“Mother. Father. This is my fiancée, May,” your son said proudly. You smiled at the woman before getting up from your chair to greet her.
“It’s nice to meet you, May,” you tell her.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Mrs. Mihawk.”
“Please call me Y/n,” you tell her as you shook her hand. You noticed her necklace with a ring on it. It looked exactly like the one Shanks gave to you from years before.
“I like your necklace,” you say.
“Oh thank you. My father gave it to me. Said it was his prize possession,” she tells you. You felt your heart break a little from what she said.
“Will we be able to meet your parents soon?” You asked.
“Unfortunately no. My mother passed away from childbirth and my father passed away not too long ago,” she tells you. You frown from hearing that.
“I’m so sorry.”
“It’s alright. I’m really glad to have met your son,” May tells you. You smiled at her before giving her a hug.
“Well, I know my son will treat you well. And if he doesn’t, you tell me,” you tell her. May smiled at you before looking at your son.
At the end of the night, you stood outside on your balcony as you stared up at the stars.
Maybe this was the universe telling you that in another life, you and Shanks end up together. But you did wish he didn’t have to be gone so soon. You wished that he would’ve came back to you sooner and maybe you two could've had the future you two wanted together.
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snowy-vee · 2 months
Text
ALL MINE (3)
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oblivious loser bsf! ellie williams x posesive popular bsf!fem reader
n/a: I may have rushed things! but I prefer to trust the process and cook a little bit more. I hope you all like it. Also, does the taglist works how I've done it or there's another way to do a taglist?
trigger warnings;; mention of vomit (1), idk if catalog it into violence because there's none but intense argue(?
Pt.1 HERE
pt.2 HERE
pt.4 HERE
Inform yourself about what’s happening and how to help! FREE PALESTINE, FREE CONGO.
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Ellie was in such a boring class that she barely noticed when it ended and people started to pack up; a few of her classmates were waiting for her at the entrance of the door, so she hurried out with them. They discussed the topics covered in class today as they walked to the dinning hall.
“Ellie!” you called out, causing both her and her classmates to turn; you were on the opposite path from her, so you had to run a bit to reach her side faster. You opened your gym bag and pulled out the folder Ellie had left in your room last night after studying together. “Your folder, you said you needed it today.”
You were dressed in your cheerleading uniform since you had practice right now. Ellie, who had been a little dazed watching the movement of your skirt as you ran, nodded, feeling her cheeks burn, and indeed, you looked so pretty, especially when you said goodbye and turned around, showing the small bow in the back of your hair.
“Sometimes I forget you’re friends with someone so popular. How is it possible that you’re friends with her?” one of them said, mesmerized by your presence, like the rest of the group
“Well, we are, best friends,” Ellie asserted with a smile. It’s true that she was annoyed when people questioned your friendship, but she was happy to have you as a friend, and perhaps she also enjoyed the feeling of envy from others…
“Yeah but she is popular, pretty, hangs out with her kind of cliché, goes to every party invited ¡Hell! She could be an influencer if she wanted to… and you are you”
“Hey, I have my own charm” Ellie said softly feeling a little bit offended “Whatever, we’ve been friend for so many years and that’s what matters”
“Really? Then do you know if the rumours about her and Abby are true? I think it’s the hottest gossip on campus, the cheerleading captain and the captain of the women’s basketball team.”
“They’re all lies, don’t believe any of that. She wouldn’t be with someone like Abby,” Ellie said, dismissing the comments, and she sounded so sure of what she was saying, especially because you assured her of it the same night of the party.
Finally, you had arrived home, you were so tired that as soon as you got to your room, you collapsed on the bed.
“At least change before you throw yourself on the bed,” Ellie leaned against the door of your room. You nodded, kicking off your shoes and getting up to grab your pajamas; you began to undress in front of her, caring little, as it wasn’t the first time.
Ellie, without changing her position, watched as you slowly untied the knot of your top and let it fall, exposing your purple bra, unbuttoning the button of your skirt and slowly lowering the zipper. The skirt fell quickly, revealing your white panties with purple bows matching the bra.
She bit her lip as she looked at your body until she reached your collarbones; there was a hickey, and it looked recent. “Did… Abby do that?”
“Hmm?” You looked at her, she pointed to her collarbone, making you look at yourself in the mirror, seeing the hickey.
‘Shit, I told her not to leave marks.’ you thought rolling your eyes mentally
“Did she do that to you?” Ellie had a slight grimace of disgust as she asked the question, obviously she noticed.
“Of course not! It was some guy I was dancing with.”
“You swear? Because you know that I do not like Abby at all.”
You fucking knew it, that’s why when you were mad at her you used to call Abby. You knew how much it would hurt her, you had no idea why they hated each other and everytime you asked her she said that she had her reasons and was protecting you.
“I swear, I would never do that to you. Abby does want something with me, I think she’s obssesed with me, she’s telling people things that never happen, spreading false rumors,” you sighed as you finished putting on your pajamas, approaching Ellie and putting your hands on her shoulders. “At the party today, she tried to talk to me and go further, but I told her no, to leave me alone, she got really mad and threatened to keep spreading rumors, and I told her I didn’t care.”
“Why didn’t you tell me any of this? I could’ve defend you.”
“Oh, Ellie, please, I know you can but do you know how many rumors there are about me? I don’t care what others think; I care that you trust me. Do you trust me?”
“Completely,” she smiled before you kissed her on the cheek and let her go while you went to the bathroom to remove your makeup changing the topic.
Ellie smiled too, of course she trusted you, that’s why she was now in front of her classmates denying the rumors, no matter how much you didn’t care, she wasn’t going to let people talk nonsense about you. No one knew you like she did.
“Are you sure? Because Abby has been telling the whole team how much of a naughty bitch, how good she could take her seven inches strap, other nasty things I can’t repeat and that she had video proof…” the guy beside Ellie spoke while looking at his phone.
“What? Unbelievable! Isn’t that like revenge corn?” Another girl said looking at his phone as well.
Her smile dropped. “What did you just say?”
She stopped walking, and with her, the group. The guy who said that showed her his phone, it was a group chat with the football and basketball team, and Abby had sent different pictures that one could only see them once. “You’ve seen them?”
“N-no she hasn’t showed them yet but would do it soon…”
“Can you confirm that she was talking about her”
“It’s pretty much her name and physic description, yeah,” Ellie licked her lips, nodding slowly.
“Does anyone know where Abby is right now?”
(What happened in the fight?)
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
You began to climb the stairs to your floor, Ellie and you lived on the first floor so it took less than a minute, phone in your hand, calling Ellie for the twelfth time. Since you finished practice, you had been calling her to come pick you up without getting a response, not even a message.
By the time you were turning the keys and opening the door, your whole body was filled with worry, but seeing her shoes, you felt a little relieved. “Ellie? Hey, if you’re not going to come pick me up, let me know beforehand! And answer my calls even if it’s just for a second! You had me worried.”
You took off your shoes and left the keys at the entrance, noticing her backpack lying on the floor with all her things scattered about. You sighed, leaving your bag on the kitchen counter and crouching down to start picking up her things. “Ellie?”
You finished picking up and placed everything inside. The door to her room was halfway open, and you could see the light was on. “Don’t you hear me calling your name?”
You entered the room, placing the backpack next to the wardrobe. Ellie was sitting on the edge of her bed with her back to you. The atmosphere felt so tense that it made you involuntarily swallow.
“I want you to be honest with me,” she said in an intimidating tone, suddenly a shiver ran down your spine. “And I want the truth, if you lie to me…”
She let out an incredulous laugh. “If you lie to me again…” Your breath caught, thinking about what lie you had told Ellie, all small except for… Impossible, Abby wouldn’t spill, you had Abby under control.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. What’s wrong?” You tried to approach, but Ellie raised her hand.
“Stay where you are, or move away from there.”
“Ellie-”
“Shut the fuck up!” she interrupted you. “Did you or did you not fuck Abby?”
What you were praying that wasn’t the problem was exactly the problem. You didn’t know where to hide, your legs seemed to want to flee, you wished the ground would swallow you up at that very moment. You tried to say something, but your lips were trembling. Were you going to lie again? No. It was obvious that she already knew everything; she just wanted to hear it from you.
“Did you or did you not fuck Abby?” Ellie repeated the question, now more demanding and intimidating, making your eyes start to fill with tears. You hated confrontations, especially if it was your fault.
“Yes,” you whispered, looking at the ground and clasping your hands, embarrassed by how ashamed you were starting to feel.
“What? I can’t hear you.”
“Oh my fucking god, Ellie! Yes, I fucked her, I fucking did!” you exclaimed, tired of how tense your body was becoming. She nodded slowly, getting up from her bed and turning to face you. “What the fuck? What have you done?”
Her lip was split with dried blood on it, she also had a bruise next to her eye and a split eyebrow. Your concerned face made her chuckle. “If this worries you, you should see Anderson.”
You unconsciously approached, trying to touch the wounds, but Ellie stopped your hand at that moment. You were maintaining such intense eye contact that it seemed like you were communicating. You were asking her to let you clean her wounds and disinfect them; she was asking you how you could betray her like this.
“You lied to my fucking face. Was it funny?” Her grip felt more painful. “What? Were you two laughing at me behind my back?” You two were close, but Ellie started taking steps closer to you, so you had no choice but to take some steps back until your were was pressed against the wall.
“It’s not like that, Ellie… my wrist- you are hurting me,” you said, feeling tears running down your face.
“Not like that? And how the fuck was it?” She screamed, making you feel smaller and making you cry more. “Explain it to me! Because I can’t understand why the fuck my best friend went behind my back to fuck the person I hate the most out of everybody on the fucking earth. Oh God! I knew you were a whore, but I never thought you would sacrifice our friendship for some sex.”
You couldn’t answer as you cried; for a moment, Ellie loosened her grip on your wrist, and you could see her eyes also filling with tears. You couldn’t hate yourself more at that moment.
“Why? I just want to know. There has to be an explanation for you to do this to me.”
“It meant nothing, I swear, it was just a few times, nothing serious,” you tried to excuse yourself, wiping your tears with your hands, but it was useless, they kept falling.
“Did she give you the hickey?” You sighed exhausted, looking at the other side, but she grabbed your jaw, forcing you to face her and look her in the eyes. “Answer.”
You nodded. Ellie let go of you, shaking her head, raising her hands in the air, defeated, watching you slide until you were sitting on the floor.
“Incredible… When was the last time except for the party?”
“That morning… She was the one who drove me to class; we did it on the couch. But then I ignored her once we got to class, that’s why you saw me arguing with her in the hallway.” You didn’t even know why you were giving so much explanation.
“Why are you doing this to me?”
Ellie really wanted a clear answer, but it seemed so pathetic to tell her that you were fucking Abby to mentally punish her for annoying you. It was your way of torturing her without her finding out because many things Ellie did annoyed you, especially when she didn’t do things your way. You knew perfectly well how she would react if she found out, but you never thought it would hurt you so much. You shrugged, looking at her; you didn’t know what to say, but you knew what not to say.
“I can’t see you right now,” Ellie said, grabbing her jacket and leaving the room.
“Wait, where are you going?” you asked, almost crawling to follow her. “Ellie!”
You shouted her name, but the door slamming shut was enough to make you shut up and leave you there, alone on the floor, crying, and you could have kept going if it weren’t for the sound of a phone. Ellie’s phone.
You approached the bed where it was, seeing that she was being called. Dina was calling her and also sending messages; you managed to read one above:
Dina<333
Of course, you can come to my house, but are you…
As if someone had kicked you in the stomach, you ran to the bathroom to vomit until you couldn’t anymore. You had pushed Ellie towards Dina yourself.
No, that’s not how the story should continue. Everything was going so well. After the party, Dina started ignoring Ellie all week, and she barely wondered why the raven-haired girl wasn’t talking to her like before, because Ellie was busy looking out for you.
She would leave her classes directly to find you, not giving Abby a chance to talk to you. She accompanied you at the beginning of your classes even if it meant she was late for hers… She was there for you 24/7, and it was so perfect for you. What was the mistake you made? Did you make it, or was it Abby? It was her. She ruined your precious environment and your relationship with Ellie.
At least that’s what you thought as you grabbed your keys and quickly left the house. Oh, you were going to fuck Abby. Fuck her UP.
taglist;; @boobdrug @lovelyxbaby @pedropascalsbbg @cherryimaa
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Could I request Astarion and his s/o getting into a sass competition where Astarion ends up confessing to her by accident and now he's all flustered?
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Astarion x Reader
“Can’t you go any faster?”
“I’m not exactly as well versed into taking these off as I am in putting them on, darling.” Astarion quipped at you as he fiddled with the lock on your cuffs.
Being somewhat of an anti-hero liaisons these days, the group had been pinched on some trumped up but completely true & legal charges of petty theft and larceny. Your options were fight, flight, or get arrested when confronted by the guards and charges. And since you couldn’t fight a whole city’s worth of Iron Fists, and running also seemed unplausible as you’d have to come back to the city sometime, you decided to take you lumps and went to jail. Luckily, where there’s a will there’s a way. Or in this case: a vampire with a lockpick up his sleeve.
“Why did you wait to do me last anyway? Just to see me suffer?”
“Well,” Astarion cooed, “it does have a certain visual appeal.”
You clicked your teeth and rolled your eyes. “Could you just hurry up? I’m starting to lose the feeling in my hands. All the blood is rushing out of them.”
“Oh, well, we wouldn’t want that.”
“Well, if you want my blood again, you should be more sympathetic to my pain.” You told him. Sighing heavily as one arm was free and Astarion moved on to the other one.
“Don’t you threaten me. Besides, if you won’t give me what I want, I’ll just move on to some other lucky companion in our camp.”
“Ha! Like anyone else would have you.”
Astarion frowned. “I’ll have you know that there are plenty of people who would welcome my teeth at their necks. Hundreds. Thousands!”
“Yeah. One blood obsessed drow and…who was the other one you tricked again?” You pulled at the shackles, which jiggled the irons and knocked the lockpick free, but unbroken. The vampire growled at you.
“I tricked you easy enough, didn’t I?”
“Only because I took pity on you.”
“Pity?!”
“Yeah.” You told him. “That poor, sad, puppy dog ‘please feed me’ look was just something I couldn’t say no to.”
Astarion growled again. “That is not how it happened. Besides, if you didn’t like it you wouldn’t keep asking for more.”
“Oh sure. Blame the victim.”
“You are not a victim!” He snapped at you. He seemed a little wounded by that one. Maybe you went a little too far. “Gods.” He cursed under his breath with a frown. “You are lucky I love you so much, otherwise I would just leave you here, chained up, and never bite you again. No matter how much you begged me.”
The lock finally snapped open and your arm fell to the side. You lifted it to rub your wrist but were uncharacteristically silent.
“Would it have been too much to expect a thank you??”
“Did you just say you love me?”
Astarion froze for a moment. A little wide eyed at your question. He seemed to be racking his brain for a moment. Trying to remember the conversation before an ‘Oh. Shit.’ expression came over his face. “What? Oh, that. Figure of speech darling, of course.” He let out a single nervous cough after that and a rushed, “let’s go meet up with the other.” Before he turned on his heels and made a speedy exit.
You rub your wrist one more time as a soft, shy smile came to your lips behind his back. You follow after him and meet up with the others. Waiting just outside the prison for the two of you, as apparently just around the corner was enough of an escape from the mighty Iron Fist.
“Ah! I just love this fresh air.” You exclaim, followed by more comments on how dusty & dank your cell had been, but really just watching Astarion’s shoulders tense.
You spent the rest of the day subversively tormenting Astarion. Making comments on how much you loved the weather, or loved a dress in a window. How much you loved dinner that night. How much you loved getting a good night’s rest that night.
By the time everyone had gone off to their respective tents for the evening, Astarion had apparently had enough and slunk up to yours. “I know what you’re doing. Now stop it!” He hissed.
“But I thought you’d love it.”
“Stop it!” He hissed again. If he could right now, he would blush. You were tempted to let him feed on you for a moment to get the full effect. “I mean it! How would you like it if I threw every verbal misstep in your face? I don’t keep bringing up the time you said Ibis instead of Ignis, now do I??”
It was pretty funny when that bird showed up.
“So, are you upset that you said it and I’m teasing of you, or are you upset that you didn’t mean it and I keep bringing it up?” You honestly didn’t know which answer would be worse at this point. You felt bad you had wounded his pride to the point that he came to talk to you. But you also don’t think you could take it if he told you that he didn’t love you.
Astarion just stood there for a moment, thinking, before he sighed and waved you off. “Just…knock it off ok. I’ve had quite enough today. I’m going to get some sleep and I’ll see you in the morning.”
He turned to walk away and just before he fell out of ear shot you called to him. “Hey Astarion,” he looked back over his shoulder at you, “I love that you could come and talk to me about this.”
He huffed, but you could see the corners of his mouth struggling to keep down. “Oh shut up.”
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sunboki · 4 months
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⎯ CHRISTMAS BLUES a Hwang Hyunjin fiction
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🎄 : Hwang Hyunjin x implied! fem. reader
TROPE. enemies to lovers, exes to lovers, reader is a writer, one bed au, forced proximity au, hyunjin is an artist(not mentioned a ton), coincidences
WORD COUNT. 7.3k words ☆ 40 minute read
WARNINGS. cursing, angst galore, mention of sex (non desc.), breakup, hurt feelings, making up, mentions of getting drunk
AUG'S NOTES. this is a stupidly lovestruck hallmark christmas mindset talking, whatever you read below is definitely not me… definitely. anyway, happy holidays to everyone that celebrates! this has been sitting in my drafts for months now, initially planned to be a smau, then a fic!! hope this fic exceeds your expectations, feel free to leave a reblog or comment of your thoughts!
PLAYLIST.
SYNOPSIS. You thought getting a call from Hyunjin was the last thing you needed during the holidays, but when he reminds you of your non-refundable tickets to Paris you had booked seven months prior to your earth-shattering breakup, you realize that his call was the least of your problems.
or alternatively :
Just a week over Christmas with your ex in Paris, what could go wrong?
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Every circumstance has a question that goes along with it.
How did I get so lucky? Why did you leave?
As for yours, it’s fairly simple.
Where did we go wrong?
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December 18th – Seoul, South Korea.
Holding onto what could’ve been is stupid, you agreed upon that mindset a long time ago. However, the past, Him being the past, lingered around you like the scent of citrus still clinging beneath your fingernails even after washing your hands. Everywhere. He was everywhere. And no matter how hard you tried to erase the memories of what was, they served their memory purpose and disfigured your mind all the same.
And so, you replaced it.
Replaced the hurt, the searing burn, with someone else. Who turned into someone else, and someone else after that till the only thing sufficing any weekly relationship was a no-strings attached notion.
Until you met Seungmin.
He was your vice, the person dragging you out of your self-made hole of false sanctuary and safety. He laid all his flaws on the table, showed himself to you. Seungmin was gentle and kind, he was patient— more patient than anyone else in this world— and loving. Oh so loving.
But behind your undying affection for your boyfriend, he saw something you didn’t. Perhaps in your eyes, perhaps in your soul, bared to him on an onslaught of occasions.
Longing.
He saw longing in your treasured hues, longing for someone that wasn’t him.
Because some scars take longer to fade away, but yours hadn’t even begun to heal. Masked with his many layers of band-aids only to never staunch the cut, the one Hwang Hyunjin left on you.
“Seungmin I’m so sorry—“
“You love him, I know,” He nods his head, a sad, soft smile holding place on his lips.
Tonight was the night he officially talked about it. The unforgivable thought continuing to incessantly plague his mind.
Although, he didn’t regard you sourly for it. That connection you had with Hyunjin was something no other person could return nor deliver, and he had to accept that if he really loved you.
If Seungmin really loved you, he wanted the best for you, even if that meant the best were when you weren’t with him.
You were shocked when he brought up the matter, asked if you really missed him, asked if you still loved him. Yes, you had of course discussed your previous relationship, but never to this extent, never so blatantly.
Though the absolute kindness in both his tone and the way he looked at you, seated at the dinner table, kept you from lying.
It’s not fair. Not fair for Seungmin, your boyfriend, to have to take responsibility for your tormented feelings. But here he is, assuring you nevertheless.
Because he’s known. He knew from the start you weren’t over Hyunjin. Knew that, despite so much ache and anguish he caused, your heart can’t help but beat at his pace, fruitlessly connected.
And he knew in the end things would fall apart just like this, and his spot as a placeholder would fall apart along with it.
That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt though.
“He hurt you, but you love Hwang Hyunjin, I know.” He whispers, fingers tightly twined beneath the table. There’s a sort of hiccuping sound bubbling up from your throat. You stave it down.
“I’m sorry.”
He smiles, smiles when you don’t deny it, reaching forward for your trembling hands to take in his own.
“I want you to be happy, Y/N. I’m not the one you’ll be happy with though.”
A soft squeeze before he rises and curves to where you sit, free-flowing tears threatening to cascade past glossy eyes.
Without hesitation you wrap your arms around him in a hug, chest wracking with unfiltered sobs. Guilty. Guilt is devouring your soul. You don’t deserve Seungmin, nor does he deserve to be hurt so cruelly by someone he loves. But here you are, ruining him.
He’d never admit it, but the pain in his eyes—the ones you’ve stared at countless times—will always remain evident. No amount of smiling or laughing can hide that.
Pulling back while your arms stayed hooked upon his shoulders, you savor the kiss he places on your lips, the ones he delicately pressed to each of your wrists.
Sad. It’s a sad kiss. A kiss that causes your entire body to wilt against him, crashing deeper and deeper into his warmth, his comfort. He’s not false, he’s real. A real, unadulterated love you’re undeserving of.
Guilty.
“If you’re happy,” He breathes, leaning in to land gentle pecks all over your face, forehead connecting with your own. “I’ll be okay.”
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December 20th – Seoul, South Korea.
Your room is still exactly as it has been. Pillows faced the same way, sheets still tousled and hanging halfway off the bed. Hell, he hasn’t even touched the blinds — staying open throughout countless nights, your perfume lingering.
Like he was afraid his touch would break apart what he had left of you.
He hopes, swallowing down the remainder of wine in his glass, you’ll be able to look back and laugh at what used to be, find the matter childish and ridiculous.
What you used to be.
Lovers.
Not kids anymore, you taught him once before. You also taught him how deep a love could be. There’d always be a space for you here, just as you left it. Although, he doubts you’d come back. In fact, you’ve probably moved on with your life. Found someone else to fill the space he did.
But maybe, if he keeps the room as it was for long enough, your room; if Hyunjin keeps those tiny paper notes you wrote for him long enough, you would come back.
What a lie.
Wishful thinking takes you far then drops you into festering despair over and over, he’s learned this the hard way.
Starting with a text.
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He blinked once, then twice, then three times—picking apart his brain in order to recollect anything, any details whatsoever that could decipher this random message on a Monday morning.
Paris.
Paris?
Paris.
It hits him, evidently.
Immediately clutching his head and simultaneously slapping an aghast hand over his mouth, a sensation recognizable as utmost horror obliterates his soul into pieces, quite literally rocking his world.
Months ago, he remembered.
You’d been stupid, you’d been drunk, and impulsively booked the tickets, laughing off the “no refunds” reminder as if nothing would’ve ever happened.
It did though. And now he’s dealing with the karma in return for that idiotic decision. Soon enough you both will.
Non refundable tickets to Paris, two days from now, together.
What were the chances?
Blindly tapping his password into his phone, he (just as blindly) jams his finger to the first caller he sees, who turns out to be Minho, seeming like both a blessing and a curse in unison.
Never before had Hyunjin so clearly lost his mind and control of his words, but there’s always a first time for everything, right?
“Minho, what the hell am I supposed to do? She hates me and the flight is booked two days from now. This is just.. Fuck!” Hyunjin pours, slamming his hands against the steering wheel, burying his head into the leather as if that would magically make his endless desperation disappear.
He didn’t usually curse, so when he did, whatever had happened was serious. He carried his words elegantly, proficiently.
He'd be the last picked candidate for elegance right about now.
“If I were Chan I would’ve said you should still try talking to her about it, but in my opinion that wouldn’t change a thing. So suck it up Hwang, it can’t be that bad.”
Ah. Remind me why I ever decided to call you hoping for advice.
‘Hwang’ was the name his friend had reserved for him, coming from a long line of tissues in the mouth and other ways Minho would pick fun at the blonde. But he was at least trying to help, somewhat.
How he got himself into this situation is honestly laughable, situation being your nasty breakup and a plane to Paris.
Great. Paris is great, right? Wrong.
Because this stupid, stupid trip to Paris isn’t one he’s going on alone to enjoy the sights and delicacies there, it’s one with you, the girl who ripped his heart in half two months ago. The trip you’d planned while you were still head-over-heels, not hating his guts.
Oh, and your tickets were nonrefundable. Couldn’t forget about that part.
“.. What am I gonna do?”
“Suck it up, duh.”
“And please enlighten me on how the hell I'm supposed to ‘suck it up’ in a plane seat right next to her for thirteen hours and spend every day glued to the hip, your honor.”
The mental picture of Minho’s fraud-innocent face through the line grated his nerves like nothing else. Brows lifted, mouth slightly open. He wanted to punch that imaginary face so badly right now.
"Then follow Chan’s tutorial on making it up to your now-ex. You asked me for my opinion, and you got it. Look, all I’m saying is this is a good chance to get some level ground between you two, even if you still fly back hating each other—"
“I don’t hate her,” Hyunjin quickly quips.
Honestly, truthfully, he doesn’t hate you, he can’t hate you and he doubts he ever will. You were the one responsible for years upon years of the best moments of his life, how could he hate you for that?
Although, by the way you looked at him that night, he doubts your response would be the same.
Minho sighs.
"Even better, you could fly back with her hating you slightly less."
For once the snarky man he was spilling his problems to had provided decent reason, it was terrifying.
From a spectators point of view, his utter fit had to be quite a sight. For the record, witnessing thee calm and collected Hwang Hyunjin go insane in his car wasn’t a sight you’d see on a regular day.
But today wasn’t a regular day. Instead, it was the day he found himself trapped in a loophole of love and war with his ex.
What were the chances?
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There’s no book that could wholly describe Hyunjin.
Even as a writer yourself, not even Shakespeare could depict him to the full extent. He’s flawless but so flawed, kind and yet malicious in terms of his brilliantly unfair beauty.
Every day you run into Hwang Hyunjin. The first few times, you called it coincidence, told yourself his meeting happened to be at the same time, maybe he was headed to a neighboring coffee shop.
Well, before those few days turned into every day on your commute.
And when a breakup is as nasty as yours was, it’s not too refreshing constantly seeing your ex on the daily afterward.
Today, Hwang Hyunjin is wearing a tan trench coat that reaches down to his knees. He’s wearing the same tennis shoes as always (except his usual camera is absent from the picture), and his hair is pulled up, soft, sandy strands framing either side of his face. He stands on the other side of the crosswalk, occupied with his phone while you internally ridicule him.
Staring daggers into his frame, the frigidly cold beverage in hand doesn’t aid in warming up chilling temperatures burning your fingertips, signs of winter’s impending approach.
He looks up.
You avert your gaze to your shoes. You can feel his eyes on you; feel them traveling over your body, then to your face, boring into your skull. He’s waiting, watching.
And somehow, you know you’ll eventually have to make eye contact. Because on your normal route, your turn left on Harrison street, then right on Fords. He’s there. Unbelievably, wildly, he’s there.
It’s the one factor in your (almost) perfect life without him that makes things hell.
Back then, you were like clockwork. Not a minute going by without someone being awake. You taking a nap after spending two hours searching synonyms on Thesaurus, Hyunjin just waking up, heading out with his signature Canon camera loosely hung around his neck.
Two perfect oppositions leaving their cluttered love scattered all over a cheap apartment.
For Hyunjin, it was the mug you’d gotten him last christmas labeled in bold font: “ART WHORE”, while yours was an equally degrading “SHE WOULD RATHER FUCK THE MEN IN HER BOOKS” sticker print slapped on the back of your laptop.
Little did you know you’d be desperately scraping the sticker off seven months later, that you’d leave your chapter unfinished since breaking up and that he had likely thrown away that mug.
Or maybe not. Maybe he painted over it, scribbled it out and somehow made it look good. Hyunjin has a way of making anything catastrophic look pretty.
You, on the other hand, are an erupting volcano. One that cries its lava onto the earth and doesn’t leave a pretty photograph. One that froths and rumbles, and destroys things as it goes.
Perfect opposites, exactly.
Now for the real question, the monumental “where did we go wrong” part that served as an explanation.
Three little words.
I love you.
You lied.
Those are big words, big words for somebody. Big words for yourself, words you spoke to Hwang Hyunjin, looped in his apartment, making love on the couch.
Big words he didn’t return.
Big words that kept your heart stilled in your chest, left your lips blue, drowned as you collected your discarded clothes off the floor.
And you left.
You didn’t need the awkward silence, the “let me think about it”, the bullshit they spouted Kissing-Booth-style. You needed him, his reassurance when you were your most vulnerable. His three words that told you your three years together weren’t one sided, not wordlessly confessed through actions though too scared to say aloud – a feared incantation.
Words he never said. Because you did love Hwang Hyunjin, so much it consumed you into his favorite muse, him your inspiration. Then came the doubt. The recollection of your favorite, dearest moments. Was it all a lie?
Those hour-long seconds, tangled on his sofa, kept that incessant anxiety alive.
You thought you found the one when your drunk night didn’t turn into an orgasm you can’t remember, but rather being coaxed into a warm shower despite your complaining about your pants being too tight.
Somehow, you can still feel his tender kisses like a ghost of a presence, littering the skin of your shoulder instead of the sloppy alcohol ridden ones you’d known before, and for once you had woken up beside the person responsible — not to a note saying they had to leave early.
He was the one responsible for teaching you how to paint, propping you in his lap, hand guiding your own while tracing careful strokes on the canvas. It was hardly possible sitting on his stool together, though neither of you noticed (nor cared), too busy savoring the intimacy of the moment.
That was Hyunjin. He was the glass of water placed in front of you after one too many at happy hour. He was the relaxing bath when everything hurt, the shoulder to cry on.
But you were mistaken. He wasn’t the one. Seungmin was the one, the one you had left behind only to chase after a toxic remedy.
In fact, Hyunjin never was the one.
And it fucking hurt remembering that.
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December 21st - 22nd – Seoul, South Korea.
The last news you’d anticipated slammed into you like a bus.
Cozied up at your desk, a number pops up on your screen, interrupting the one moment of silence you managed to enjoy. Most people didn’t call during your work hours, except Seungmin, who, for the record, called before work.
The number you’d memorized by heart was not normal either.
Him.
“Before you curse at me,” He begins, and your hand hesitantly hovers over the call button, jaw clenched beyond reason, silence shouting loud. No strength in your bones allowed you to reply. Was it fear, hatred? Both most likely.
Taking the time to continue, his silky tone lulls along the line.
“Do you remember the tickets?”
Hatred seemed the dominant factor.
“What are you talking about?” You rhetorically snap, obviously annoyed albeit confused.
Tickets? It’s been three months, why the hell are tickets the first thing he’s mentioning?
He sighs. “The tickets to Paris. You remember, don't you?”
It takes you a moment, then, aha.
How could you forget? The tip of the iceberg of what two naive, lovestruck idiots thought would be forever. Little did they know everything would slip past their fingertips.
”Well um, did you know they’re non-refundable?”
Huh.
“WHAT?!”
You’d just managed to convince yourself free of Hyunjin, but he simply dragged you further into his labyrinth.
Or so you thought.
You had grown since he broke you (with the help of your better-ex, Seungmin). You evolved better (or so you told yourself). So out of the plentiful lessons you’d learned during your reflection, the factor that stuck with you most was that nobody is there to pick up for you. No matter how much you think they will.
You swore yourself into the belief Hyunjin would mend you, but you lived blind to the truth that he was just as broken as you were, a dog chasing its tail.
And so, you dealt with it.
In ways.
Whether that was incessantly talking to yourself, fanatically checking the date, contacting Felix on the verge of tears for him to laugh and then attempt at consoling your doom, or googling the best ways to run away from your predicament, fate had it out for you.
A disgustingly impertinent, unfairly fair fate.
Packing wasn’t all too stressful, unless you count trying on an entire entourage of outfits descending from dinner to snow-attire, then focusing on simple.
And it really shouldn’t have been so awful getting into your car, nonetheless waking up to realize today was the dreaded day, but it was, and you seriously deserved an award for the amount of times you checked your clock.
Although, you at least expected to have a little bit of time before having to face him again. Talking and interacting, not just drilling holes into his head. Little bit of time as in, a few years at least.
You were wrong.
Not the first time that’s happened.
“Hi Hyunjin.”
Answering his awaiting call with unsteady pitch, your eyes immediately gravitate to the blond-haired man. Taller in stature, leaning against a nearby pillar by your gate, staring directly at you.
Never had it felt so terrifying.
“Hey.”
You hesitate, never breaking eye contact with the man you’re speaking to a few meters away.
“Are we…Are we doing this again?”
He’s solemn. He’s not the same. Different.
“I don’t know. You decide for me.”
Never for a second does your gaze stray to his lips that barely move as he utters the line. Not the same either.
Before, you’d always been mesmerized by his lips. Then he’d notice and tease you prior to delivering the long-awaited kiss, again and again till you were breathless and your head became dizzy.
But this wasn't before; this is now, filled with grudges and sourness.
“You know I can’t make big decisions.”
That isn’t him. Isn’t the Hyunjin who would always provide endless tips and support, opinions unable to be held back without duct tape.
“Because you don’t want to get hurt knowing we chose this?” He whispers, and you tug your bottom lip between your teeth hard enough to bleed.
“Because I want better for us.”
“Y/n,” He sadly laughs, and your name rolling off his tongue sends an ache clawing your chest. It’s humorless, bitter in his throat.
“There is no us, only you and me, remember? So who do you want better for?”
There’s no twinkle in his eyes or his charming smile, it’s dry and painful, like he’d been crying.
You don’t want to think about that.
“Tell me something, okay?” Holding your phone to your ear with an iron grip, you slowly inhale through your nose, sparing a fleeting glance to the floor.
“Anything.”
“If I cry, will you hug me?”
“Do you want that?”
Question after question. He reaches in further, ripping out pieces of your soul with each inquiry. Stupid, sure. But genuine, all the way from the shrouded depths of your mind did you ask.
Of course you want that, want what’s so bad for you. No strength can make you admit it.
He knows the answer.
You hang up the call, fiddling around with your suitcase prior to wheeling the blundering thing over and ensuring you find a comfy spot out of Hyunjin’s sight.
Only five minutes of talking and you already feel as if your body is splintering into little pieces he’ll arrange into the perfect puzzle, ideal and pleasing.
He won’t. Not anymore he won’t.
And in that stead you’ll remain shattered.
What a shame.
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Now boarding Group Five. All passengers in Group Five are welcome to board.
The hailing announcement earns a muffled groan through your mask, begrudgingly rising to your feet while directing your attention solely upon the bridge and your tightly held boarding pass. Luckily, Incheon International Airport isn’t half as hectic as you anticipated, but you have a gnawing feeling Paris will have a lot more to say.
Truth be told, you thank every lesson on task focus you once deemed useless as you shuffle among Paris-goers to find your seat.
One that obviously had to be right by Hwang Hyunjin.
“How’s you and Seungmin?” He fixes the length of his headphones, sparing a quick look at you while speaking. You despise how easy he treats this, how easy he’s treating everything at the moment.
Unfortunately, booking this hell-on-earth back when either of you were in your demented fantasy-land meant sitting beside each other also, in assigned seats.
Cupid really needs to give up by now.
You grunt beside him, uttering a hushed, “We broke up.”
Tilting his head, Hyunjin presses his face closer, craning. Close enough that you hold your phone up as a barrier, shrinking away nearer to the window.
“…Who broke up with who?”
Asshole.
Sighing boisterously, you shove in your own earbuds, rolling your eyes. Hyunjin, cocking a brow, dejectedly slouched back. Although he doesn’t ask any more questions, and you successfully get through your first three hours in silence.
Well, prior to the flight attendant strolling by with her cart, mandatorily beckoning orders from each row.
Wheeling her cart over where your seats are, Hyunjin takes a ginger ale and the customary pretzels they hand out. So when she gets to you and you order a Sprite, the man to your right’s head snaps to you, giving you quite an incredulous cock of his brow.
“No ginger ale?”
You wrinkle your nose.
“I don’t like it,” Biting back, you interrupt him upon accepting the canned soft drink, expression bitter and unwavering.
“You always got it when you were with me” or “Wasn’t it your favorite” was what you expected to come out of his mouth, positively obliterating any ounce of peace of mind remaining inside your rattling skull. You weren’t about to sit another seven hours sulking about something your ex said.
The ex you were very much over.
Right.
Your new goal? Avoid genuine conversation for as long as possible, at least on this flight.
So, given the chance to be deep in thought, you came to a conclusion.
You were clockwork, just like before. Except now instead of just equaling the time of day, he was the hour hand and you were the minute hand, always chasing after one another only to briefly touch and start all over again in an endless cycle of time.
Although the rockier the air gets and the more your grip squeezes the armrest does your initial goal falter, finding his considerate gesture asking if you were alright practically impossible to keep from responding to.
Especially when a huge drop has his hand racing atop yours, both too nervous to truly let go.
Just the circumstances, you blame, as if this plane was the sole cause of your slamming heartbeat.
Bullshit.
Four days and this trip was going to be one for the books for a multitude of reasons, that’s for sure.
Let’s just hope you can land first.
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December 23nd – Paris, France.
His assuring hold on your hand guiding you through the bustling crowds of visitors and locals storming Charles de Gaulle Airport gives you this disgusting nostalgia, festering in your gut the longer you focus on his dark head of hair in front of you, kind, magnificent almond eyes flickering back to catch sight of you time and time again — like you’d magically sift from his grasp.
It’s a miracle you managed to hit ground in one piece, nevertheless end up with the notorious artist-jerkface named Hyunjin navigating you through an supremely overpopulated airport.
Perhaps it’s the scent of wispy pine or faint cigarette smoke that tinges the atmosphere such a rosy hue, perhaps everyone’s anticipation for the holiday’s. Either way, it certainly doesn’t help fuel your “absolutely NO touchy-feely-ness Hyunjin agenda”.
Well, you had no doubt you’d have to stick to your morals on this trip in the first place, and it’s not like the odds were supposed to work in your favor. Although, a little assistance would‘ve been nice.
Guess you’ll just have to make due.
Lovely.
“Thank you!” You shout, forcing your voice to sound chipper speaking to the Cab Driver (opposing the twenty-two hours of traveling you managed to survive through). Except now, you didn’t know what to do nor what to say standing outside the hotel entrance, especially not when Hwang Hyunjin was going to be biting your ass for the next few days.
Much to your luck though, it seemed he was just as clueless as you, both prioritizing just checking into your room first and foremost.
Thankfully, the sights are a wondrous source of distraction, and you devise a plan to go walking more often than not (and not just to avoid Hyunjin). Each building appears as if it’d been expertly carved from stone, historically aged beige, awnings titled a bottomless array of Grand Seiko and Jaeger-LeCoultre.
To add, huge paneled windows are placed in each room, allowing a breathtaking view of the city as evening dawns. Whether it’s a quaint bakery hitched right below a bookstore or the bell tower seated comfortably in the middle of a square—you could never get bored.
Seems your interest tore you away from an unwelcomed reality until Hyunjin cleared his throat, thick eyebrows raised questionably.
“..We could go ice-skating?” He offers, index pointing to the huge rink a few blocks to the left.
You don’t have to speak for him to know your response, unzipping your suitcase to gather a new change of clothes without a word.
“Look, I know you want nothing to do with me, but I doubt either of us will ever have enough money to come to Paris again, so just, do it for the experience, not for me.”
That’s it.
“For you? You think I’m doing this for you? Are you really that conceited to think I’m still catering to you, Hyunjin? I’ve changed whether you like it or not, and I’m not the girl that’s willing anymore,” You toss your clothing to the side, giving him a downright venomous stare. Loathing. “I’m not yours anymore.”
“In fact,” Spitting poison, you stab your index to his chest, causing him to back up the more you advance forward. “You don’t know shit about me.”
He appears torn. His nose scrunches, and his lips form a squabbled line upon his face, evidently troubled.
Somehow, those actions that normally earned your sympathy only reared your deftly oiled gears more, angrily roaring without fail.
“Because if you did, we wouldn’t be like this.”
Gesturing around, you retreat back a few steps, arms slapping your sides irritably. Meanwhile, the tall man remains silent, attention magnetically directed down at his shoes. And for a swift moment, mere seconds, you feel sorry — apologetic even.
It makes you sick to your stomach.
You exhale. “I’ll go, and not for you. Understood?”
Hyunjin doesn’t reply, biting his cheek as he watches you disappear into another room.
You thank the refreshing scent of peppermint for its momentary relief upon entering the bathroom, practically drenching your face in ice cold water over and over as if it’d clear your head.
For you; you’re doing this for you, nobody else, you remind yourself, prepping a washcloth and your toiletries whilst praying the warm shower water eases your blaring jet-lag.
Yet, you didn’t expect a visitor to suddenly pop in while you were mid-shampoo, and it seemed he didn’t expect it either.
You swore the prolonged eye-contact went on for centuries, absolute terror embracing every aspect of your face through the clear shower door.
“Fuck! Get out!”
Scurrying like a character off a cartoon, Hyunjin manages – through spilling apologies – to blindly ram himself into the door, hands gripping his skull.
Suddenly, he pauses, hesitating.
“Wait but I’ve seen you naked befo–”
“GET OUT!” You scream.
“Okay! Okay.” He hurriedly slips out, leaving you to rethink every decision made with his name involved. A recurring thought at this point.
And with that, you quickly accept that your jet lag isn’t even close to gone and likely won’t be as long as the artist sharing your hotel room is within a six-foot radius.
Oh, and you don’t know shit about ice-skating.
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Of course, Hyunjin is a natural on ice. He glides like a snow spirit, freer than ever. Meanwhile, your nails are embedded into your vice of a railing, knees shakily attempting at balancing with little success.
He’s the princess, and you’re the frog. It’s decided. Walking while you crawled, running while you walked. A step ahead that was at some point motivating, now plain humiliating.
The ice rink is jam-packed, citizens and tourists alike savoring the crisp winter, the faded twinkling of lights glittering in the distance.
“C’mon, just one?”
You, clawing the icy edge, confusedly avert your focus to where the voice came from.
It’s Hyunjin, gesturing to his camera while you piece together his request before childishly whining your despair. He lifts his toboggan upward, a few endearing tufts of golden peering out to hang over crescent moon eyes, evidently smiling.
Leave it to this man to test your sanity. How could anybody say no when he looked that cute.
“Fine, one.”
Not like I could run off anyway, you mentally consider, finding the fact your legs are quite literally flailing as a good enough sign to give in.
“Yes!” He chirped happily, hurriedly fiddling with his camera.
Watching him with that kind of expression, you witness your Hyunjin again, fumbling around, so excited about the smallest of things.
It hurts.
“I..” He trails off, voice barely audible whilst winking to see through the lense. “Don’t want to miss a moment of you.”
“What was that?”
The camera flashes, and you wonder if you heard him correctly.
“Oh nothing.” His lips curl into a sheepish grin, easing toward you and unexpectedly prying your hand into his own, involuntarily pulling you along.
Panickedly, you clutch onto any article of clothing available (another goodbye to your no-touchy-feely-ness Hyunjin agenda) similar to the handrails, squeezing your eyes shut while painfully awaiting a harsh slam against rock-hard ice.
A harsh slam that never happens.
You cautiously open an eye.
“One, two, one, two.” He counts steadily, soaring across the ice, unable to contain the huge beam the longer he watches you. Captivating.
You fight the urge to smile, the sensation of wind whipping your hair and his warm, reminiscent touch setting your nerves into a dopamine frenzy, making the routinely frown much harder than need be.
Nevertheless, perhaps staying in Hyunjin’s grasp would’ve been the safer option. Because with confidence comes failure (at least in your book of life), and your knees would’ve definitely appreciated not getting ruined.
“Are you alright?” Hyunjin murmurs, sympathetically regarding your black and blue frame, looking worse for wear, skates in hand.
“Amputation has never sounded more tempting,” Grumbling, you hobble to return your skates, the man tailing behind you choking back his giggle, kindly waiting in case you stumble.
From the way things are going, the probability is high. Except, Hyunjin walks on eggshells, worried you might rip his head off in the case he asked the question sitting tentatively on the tip of his tongue.
Keeping himself contained had never been as unbearable as when with you, constantly having to refrain from wrapping your precious self into his arms, witness those warm, beautiful hues blinking at him like globes.
Five minutes into the walk back and your near-face-plant-turned-catastrophe was his last straw.
“Can I at least carry you?”
Your head snapping back was almost comical, ogling at Hyunjin as if he told you he’d been neutered or something.
Insane. He’s officially gone insane.
So have you, apparently. Because after getting all too familiar with the icy side walk for a fifth time, you give in, stifling your thoughts from erupting out of your skull—feeling like your entire earth was slowing down on its axis when he easily swept you off your feet.
Cute, hell, romantic too, until you arrive back at the hotel and the curious looks sent your way have your cheeks burning.
“This is so embarrassing.” You whine, burying your face in your hands. Of course, Hyunjin just laughs.
You missed his laugh.
And he cares for you that night, transporting you from room to room in his arms despite your complaints you could do so yourself (although you secretly preferred it, and no, not because it was Hyunjin, only because of how bruised your legs were).
Plus, the mental exhaustion was practically debilitating, sleep beckoning you into its cozy embrace as the clock ticked on the wall. The man before you knelt in front of where you sat on the side of the bed, gently applying antiseptic to your cuts while you blanked in and out of consciousness.
Any common sense had completely abandoned you. Certainly, since you hadn’t noticed only one bed sat dead center in the room. Nor had you noticed through your half-asleep eyes how sweetly he maneuvered you around, pulling the comforter snug over your body.
His hand strays, wistfully smoothing some hair from off your eyebrow.
“I’m sorry,” He whispers, gathering spare pillows and blankets.
He’ll sleep on the floor.
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December 24th – Paris, France.
Apparently, there was much more to this Paris dilemma than just the “going to Paris” part (excluding, y’know, the havoc that’s occurred over the past three days).
This fantastic surprise came in the form of a booked Louvre Museum date, now a bit more like a punishment with your current state of soreness merely rising up from bed. And, in turn, seeing Hyunjin sawing logs on the floor below, an action you were inaudibly grateful for.
You two are a different kind of romantic if that’s what you want to call it, especially when Hyunjin practically barricades the bathroom door, nonsensically shouting that he won’t make the same mistake of walking in ever again.
Sweet gesture, but it gets a tad bit irritating when you have to basically charge the door in order to move the chair situated behind it, making you doubt if it was to keep Hyunjin himself out or keeping you in instead.
Yeah. Different kind of romantic. Exes kind of romantic.
Once 5pm rolls around, you’re already dressed and ready to leave, trying your darndest to pretend you’re doing something on your phone to evade conversation. A middle school move, though your ego is on the brink of becoming extinct anyway.
Seems the final act is when Hyunjin steps out of the bathroom, wearing that tan trench coat he always did.
He notices you analyzing, stifling a very tempting smirk.
“I thought you’d like this jacket. Y’know, since you stared at it all the time.”
With a sentence you watched your endangered ego obliterate in real time, embarrassment swallowing you whole. The cycle is neverending.
Thankfully, at least one factor in your unsolvable equation proves itself useful, the factor being your already purchased tickets, granting an earlier entrance into what felt to be a new world.
A new world you recognized as Hyunjin’s world. Vast, expansive. A place you can get lost in and be okay with. Stories hidden behind gold-rimmed frames, so much to tell if only you’d listen.
He lingers by the Psyche and Cupid sculpture longer than usual. Briefly, he told you about them many moons ago. Their love awakening from something much more tragic, apocalyptical.
What a coincidence.
You spend what feels to be days in there, daylight from the lengthy windows overhead falling dark by the time you’re finished. The temperature dropped exponentially while you explored, ignorant to the frigid conditions till realizing you still had your trek back.
Curse the taxi service for not running twenty-four hours.
“You grew your hair out.” You comment, but it’s not really a comment, more like an observation you already knew and felt the need to point out for some odd reason. The awkward silence is suffocating enough.
Granted, you’d known his hair had grown. You saw him every day coming to and fro from work, so any adjustments he made you saw, some of which you remember loving oh so much.
This adjustment was his hair.
Hyunjin’s lips quirk ever so slightly, fingers straying up to tousle a strand.
“You used to love it when I grew it out.”
He continues to walk ahead, ignoring how you had stalled behind, numb grip desperately clutching your puffer jacket as if it’d magically allow you inhalations.
“You would tie it up for me, and stick my paintbrushes in the bun.”
This time, he spins around, seemingly unaffected by your (both literally and figuratively) frozen finger that simply blinks at him — robotic-like.
Like Hyunjin is a stranger. Like your Hyunjin, the old one you were mad for, is now a stranger.
“And I,” He sniffs in, his exhale causing a cloud of air to comprise in its stead. “Really wanted to marry you.”
There’s your breaking point.
He’s pulled you thread by thread closer to an unthinkable free fall, a freezing free fall. Unfurling your strings of yarn to no point of repair. So as you teeter on the edge, your defense mechanisms kick in. And before you can logically consider your options, you smack him.
Right. Across. The face.
He’s stunned, you don’t blame him for that, but there’s also a crinkle in his brows, a look of utmost hurt beginning to stain any somber expression left.
“You have no right to say that when you’re the one that caused all of this.” Your volume increases, unaffected by the glances from passerby.
You have no doubt the two of you are quite a scene, though common sense had long abandoned you, and no thought but fiery rage curls around you, tendrils alight.
“Why the hell did you want to marry me if you can’t even love me? Quit hurting and confusing me Hyunjin, I can’t keep doing this.” Practically pleading, he pulls his palm from where it babied his cheek, instead retreating to your wrists, keeping you in front of him.
“Listen.”
“No!” You screech, trying your hardest to escape.
“Listen.”
You pause, gingerly allowing him to adjust the scarf over your pink nose and ensure your gloves trap warmth for your fingers.
He bites his lip, gaze dancing across your features.
“I love you.”
You shakily exhale, wishing everything would just stop. Time would simply diminish into nothing but stillness, easiness.
Your anguish and anger was easy, and staying mad was a whole lot easier than this—confronting the pains of meeting him again, nonetheless this trip.
He’s finding the pieces to your puzzle.
You want to hide.
Worst of all? Especially hearing him say the words that ended you two months prior.
Cruel.
“I loved you,” His voice wavers. “More than anything, Y/n. And I still do. But when you said that, I got scared.”
He shakily inhales, the grip on you lessening a bit.
“Because when I say I love you back, that means I have someone to lose.”
It’s hypocritical, you know.
Hell, you know what it’s like to be a hypocrite more than anything right now. From hearing the godforsaken news to sitting in an airplane together after wholeheartedly promising yourself you’d never let him have you once more.
Yet here you were, dragging him by his collar into a kiss.
He kisses you back, like an idiot, childishly grasping his clothing-cladden frame against your face and savoring the small bit of heat huddled between where your lips meet.
His trench-coat, you remember, despite so many adjustments, is the same as usual, and it’s almost comforting to find he smells the same as well—floral, with hints of jasmine (mainly thanks to his favorite perfume). You remember that too.
Guess some things never change.
Perhaps he kept that mug after all, drank from it every day like he used to.
And perhaps, right now, he’s wishing back all the time you’ve spent apart, just like you are. Wishing you would’ve just talked like mature, capable adults. Figured things out.
Newsflash, you’re not mature adults. You’re two broken lovebirds fighting to find their song after being caged together, searching high and low for the perfect pitch when all you needed was a single note, a single start.
Positioning you where an arm wraps around your back, the other holding your cheek, he dips you as if in a ballroom dance, not kissing beneath a street light.
Everything is pretty in Hyunjin’s presence.
“Hwang Hyunjin,” You whisper, nostrils burning the longer you’re surrounded by snow, falling in hefty sheets at this rate.
He hums into your lips, maneuvering his head to kiss away the chilled tears beginning to froth upon your waterline. And in those moments, you feel so fragile, so weak in his touch.
Almost instinctively, his grip tightens oh so slightly.
“I really don’t want to lose you.”
And he laughs, a muffled laugh that nonetheless causes his shoulders to shake before delving further into your kiss, melting away every bit of anguish you felt, all the hurt and ache. Dissolved into nothingness by his lips.
Figures briefly illuminated by the light of the street lamp, you remain ignorant to the encroaching nightfall, the way the stars seamlessly blend with white snowflakes. Something out of a fairytale.
You’re certain you could’ve stood there forever, all numb and freezing cold.
But in love. So very in love.
For him you would’ve stood there. And the you still in denial without understanding this entire story would’ve died before admitting that.
This time, you’re okay with letting him finish the puzzle, create a song as lovebirds.
“You won’t, I promise,” He traces your cheek with his thumb. “Now let’s get someplace warm, shall we?”
Landing an affectionate peck to your burning red nose, he takes your hand, guiding you through climbing snow toward your hotel, sign reading “Hôtel de Vendôme” glittering in the distance.
In your opinion, however, it was too fleeting. A kiss you hadn’t realized you’d been waiting for until it actually happened, till you pathetically craved it again and again.
Although, that didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy gaining feeling back in your fingers and toes, treasuring the flicker of the fire crackling beneath a brick mantel. A few guests litter the lobby, dishing paper cups of hot chocolate left and right, taking the opportunity the mistletoe hanging above a long forgotten stairwell provides.
Christmas Eve and you’re beside the ex you swore you’d never spend it with, spend any time with generally. So surreal you simply cannot stop thinking about it, enough that you become too distracted to notice the mischievous glint in Hyunjin’s vision.
Well, before he points upward and you notice the dangling mistletoe.
And he kisses you again just like you wanted. Deeper, slower, like separating would cause you to break apart, carving your kiss into his memory for a second time.
Standing there, too lost in him to ever consider anything better than this, you begin to think maybe you’ll be able to finish that stagnant book of yours. Maybe it’ll be about two lovers turned two exes, whose trip to Paris might just have been the cherry on top to hurt feelings and broken love. Because, at the end of their tribulations, Cupid falls in love with Psyche.
And you begin to think—as the clock’s ringing announces midnight has arrived—maybe this Christmas will pass by on a good note.
No, you’re certain of it.
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sunboki, may 2022 ©
FIC TAGLIST. @slut4colinbridgerton @armystay89 @shujohajohaminnie @minhosbitterriver @callmedarlingsstuff
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redstarwriting · 11 months
Text
the clash | iii. black planet
hobie brown x goth!reader
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word count: 2.5k
genre: enemies to lovers
warnings: language, insults, hobie hating you, you hating hobie, needles mentioned, slight injury from said needle
a/n: is this one long? yes. do i care? no because it was fun to write. it was 3 am when i finished this and make this a draft, so you know i had fun with this chapter. also, i’m about to go into work, so i will probably not be here but i wanted to post it beforehand so i can just worry about working on chapter iv later. and just wanna say i’m grateful to everyone who is reading and interacting with the posts! this has been such a warm welcome back into writing for the marvel universe and i appreciate each and every one of you :)🖤 also i have a question, feel free to answer in the comments or pm me, do i go all the way in the angst for this, or only some angst?
now reading: iii. black planet
previous chapter: ii. time bomb
next chapter: iv. london calling
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You open a portal to your world, and dramatically motion everyone inside. Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr step into it, and you glance at Hobie. “Are you actually coming, then?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he says sarcastically, stepping into the portal. You enter last, walking until you’re in the familiar darkness of your apartment. “Welcome to my home,” you say, going to your kitchen to get a glass of water. As you’re pouring, you hear one of your guests speak up. “Is that… a real skull…?” Pavitr asks, pointing to a human skull above your fireplace mantle. “Sure is. She’s my aunt,” you say, taking a sip of water. They all look at you with a look that reads ‘is it… that aunt?’
You nod.
It isn’t brought up again.
Hobie sees a vinyl player and immediately walks over to it. He observes the multiple albums and singles and then comes across vinyls that don’t look like they belong to any band in particular. “You press your own vinyl?”
“Obviously. There’s just something better about vinyl than listening to it on my phone, so I press my own playlists,” you say, and Hobie glances up at you. “It sounds more real. Scratches and all, makes it feel authentic,” he says, placing a record on your player and placing the needle on it surprisingly gently. You raise your eyebrow at him. ‘Of course he would get the record thing,’ you think to yourself, ‘he is a guitarist after all.’
“I totally agree,” Gwen says, and you nod. Musician things. Ambient sounds accompanied by faint guitar riffs fill the room. You nod in approval. This is one of your favorite songs. Gwen smiles. “Your place is so fucking cool, (Y/n),” she says, walking over to the crystal ball and various tarot decks you have set up on your kitchen table. “Thanks, I take pride in it,” you say and Hobie makes a noise. “Could be better. Tell me, do you consider any color? Ever? Like what the fuck kind of plants are these that they’re all black?”
“They’re called Raven ZZ plants, and actually, they’re a bright green when new leaves sprout, but no. Color is not for me. The only reason I have the tiniest bit of pastel pink on my spider suit is because I need to continue to throw people off my scent.”
“How d’you reckon a tiny splash a’ color will do that?”
“There are various different types of goth. If I only used my own style, it would make the likelihood of me being me much higher than I would like,” you explain, and Miles looks around. “So… this place haunted?” he asks and you grin. “Yes.”
“Ghosts aren’t fuckin’ real.” Hobie scoffs, and he has to bite back a laugh at how quickly you turn your head to him. He actually does believe in ghosts, just a tiny bit, but doing anything to piss you off has become his new motto. Even if he has to lie.
“Shut the fuck up or I’ll make one of them possess you,” you say icily, and a cold breeze rolls through the room and blows out some of the candles. Pavitr shrieks and jumps into Miles’ arms. Gwen mutters something about that being ‘so cool.’ Hobie looks virtually unimpressed and you two glare at each other until you all get an all too familiar feeling of danger. You all turn your head toward your balcony, and you see an explosion in the distance. “Fuck,” you mumble, jumping into action immediately. You pull your mask on, and jump without a second thought. It’s a new thing when you glance over and see Hobie right by you. “Was that a bomb? Who could that be?” Miles asks and you sigh. “Probably the Green Goblin,” you say, and Hobie opens his mouth to say another sarcastic remark but is cut off when he gets to observe what your swinging is like.
You literally move like the wind. It’s fluid and smooth in nature, and he pays special attention to how you barely make noise when you land on a building to run. It’s actually impressive, and it makes him lose whatever rude comment he thought of. It’s the complete opposite of how he is. Erratic and loud. He doesn’t know whether to respect it or make fun of you for it later. Probably the latter. “Hey (Y/n)? Is the sky normally this dark? I thought it was like 6pm,” Pavitr asks as you all swing and you nod. “The sun is only out for like 2-3 hours a day here,” you respond. “Damn a little sunlight never killed anybody,” Miles says, and you shrug. “Honestly, here it might.”
“Is that why you’re so moody and negative? Only light you get is from the moon?” Hobie asks and you roll your eyes. “Actually, I was born that way. My style of living has nothing to do with my moodiness and realistic outlook,” you shoot back, emphasizing the point of realistic and not negative. He just shakes his head.
You all arrive at the location the explosive went off, and you notice there are still people inside the parking garage that was hit. “We’re on it!” Gwen says, motioning for Pavitr and Miles to follow her. The three of them take off in an instant, and you keep your eyes peeled and ears open to hear the wings of the Green Goblin’s glider. Hobie hangs back, not saying anything for once in his life. Until he gets an uneasy feeling. “Something’s close.”
“I know, idiot, I have the sense too.”
“I was just sayi–”
He’s cut off by a tiny bag of… powder… being thrown between the two of you. You both leap out of the way immediately before it explodes. “Found you!” Hobie hears a maniacal laugh, “Ohhhh and you brought a friend!” The Green Goblin of your universe giggles, and he realizes that the glider she’s on is a giant taxidermy bat accessorized with mechanical elements making it able to fly again. “Not their friend,” he yells at the Goblin before addressing you, “What the actual fuck is ‘at?” Hobie yells and you sigh. “That’s the Green Goblin of my universe, she’s a fucking lunatic who wants to turn me into a taxidermy sculpture and sell me at an art auction.”
“She an Osborn?”
“Yes, Harriet Osborn,” you say, dodging another… bomb? Hobie honestly doesn’t know what the fuck is happening. “Well, I’ve killed one Osborn already, what’s another,” he says, and you make a gasping noise. “Oh no… don’t tell me…”
“We can’t kill Harriet!”
“Why the fuck not?! She’s tryna kill you!”
“Because of personal reasons! You’re not about to come into my world, and kill my villains, asshole!” you scream, and he groans. “Fuckin’ fine. Whatever, we take her down, we don’t kill her,” he says, and you nod. “I take her down. Like I have countless times before.”
“Uh uh uh, I’m here for a reason, we take her down.”
“Gods, fine. Whatever,” you huff and the both of you dodge another explosive. You point to Miles, Gwen, and Pavitr who are motioning to you that they got everyone out of the garage. Without speaking, the two of you develop a plan. You immediately web into the garage, going down to the bottom floor. Of course, your Goblin follows you, completely disregarding Hobie even being there. He follows behind. It’s dark in here, all the lighting has gone out inside and the black sky outside makes it difficult to see. You use the stealth he observed earlier to your advantage. Even he has trouble picking out where you are, and he has super senses. He makes his way to a pillar that supports the garage as quietly as he can, which, luckily, is quiet enough that he goes unnoticed. “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he hears in a sing-songy voice.
He carefully picks up a rock and glances around the garage. He’s behind a pillar that will help bring the whole thing down, he just needs to deduce which of the other pillars will assist in that. Lucky for him, you’re there too. He hears a noise behind one of the pillars, and sure enough, an explosion soon follows. He quickly realizes where the other weak points are and throws a rock at one of the others. Boom. Explosion. And then one more. He glances to his left to see you right next to him. You both nod at each other, and he hits a power chord. You roll your eyes. “A little flashy, don’t you think,” you say as the two of you leap out of the way and there’s one more explosion. “Not flashy enough, love,” he responds as the garage starts to shake.
The two of you expertly navigate the falling rocks as you make your way out of the collapsing building. Right when you get out, your eyes widen, and you twist your body so the glider doesn’t impale you. You land on top, and the Goblin turns around. Half of her mask is broken and she’s bleeding from being hit by one of the rocks. You can tell the glider was hit, too, because it seems to be stalling every now and again. It does get you farther away from your spider-companions, but they start webbing after you. “Found you,” she says. “No shit, Harriet. It only took you demolishing ONE building to do it this time, feels like a new personal record for you,” you respond, and she throws a punch at you. You dodge, and then see her pull out an unnecessarily large taxidermy needle. “Ah, shit,” you mumble as she starts wielding it like a dagger. You’re able to dodge most of her attacks, but the last one grazes your side. You hiss and realize she put another attempt of a knockout serum on it as well. Great. She laughs.
“Stupid spider! I didn’t need to stab you; I just needed a little graze! See, I put a special kind of toxin on my needle, and now it–” She gets knocked out by a single punch to the face. “You talk way too damn much, girl,” you mumble, webbing her to the side of a building as she falls off her glider. Oh shit. The glider. You leap off, despite the pain in your side and the woozy feeling that’s starting to show up and web the glider. You then go water skiing without the water. Or the skiis. And on the road. Oops.
You do your best to control the glider, swerving between cars and making sure it doesn’t run into any of the skyscrapers in downtown Night of Yore City. That’s when you realize it’s about to run straight into a building. You narrow your eyes. It’s time to do your Spider thing. You yank back on the glider, causing it to stall. You leap up onto the side of a building, detaching three webs onto it and leaping to the other one. You repeat until a full spiderweb is formed, blocking the glider’s way to the building, and repeat so it’s underneath the glider as well. You quickly web up the giant claws of the taxidermy bat, ensuring they can’t cut through your webs, and wrap the glider up, swinging around it in a circle. You attach the end of the web to the big spider web you just made and watch it slow down even more. It goes into the web in front of the building, and slightly indents into it, but that’s the further it gets.
You crouch on a lamppost, watching to make sure nothing bad happens. When you’re positive everything’s fine, you stand. A few citizens yell some thanks you’s, more glare at you because you just ruined their day, and some just ignore you completely. You look up and see the four other Spider-People chilling on the side of a building. You quickly join them. “Never seen someone make a web that fast and efficiently,” Gwen says, motioning to the web you wove. You shrug. “Thank you.”
“Unfortunate a buildin’ had to come down in the process,” Hobie says, not giving you a break or any type of praise. You roll your eyes. “Let’s not forget you were part of the reason the building came down.”
“I could have done it without the destruction.”
“Like you would have.”
“I wouldn’t have, but I could have. Obviously, you couldn’t,” he says, and you flip him off as you all begin webbing back to your apartment. Once you get there, you assess the damage the needle did to you. Some weird green toxin was in the cut, and you sigh. “Wait, (Y/n), that looks kind of serious,” Gwen says, noting the discoloration of the toxin compared to your skin. You shake your head. “No, it’s fine. She keeps trying to make a knock-out serum to use on me. None of them are strong enough,” you affirm, the slight wooziness you had felt earlier is completely gone. Now you just need to wash and dress this, and it should be healed by morning. “Or maybe she’s just a shit chemist.”
“Thank you, Hobie, for your doubt that I’m a capable Spider-Person,” you say, and he nods at you. “Always.”
You get out your first aid kit and clean your wound up. It stings, and you wince, and the others know that feeling all too well. “Right, well now that we’ve seen this gloomy, depressin’, dark ass world, why don’t we go see an actual fun world, eh?” Hobie says, starting to press some buttons on his watch. “Go to your world? What so I can be blown away with too loud amps and catch on fire because some dumbass thinks they can make a flamethrower with some sort of cleaning spray and a lighter? No thanks,” you mumble, and he rolls his eyes. “Not like I want you there anyways, love,” he says. You hate this new nickname he’s picked for you. It’s not endearing, it’s annoying. And he knows that it bothers you. You angrily put your first aid kit down and glare at him. “Fine. But hold on one second.”
You scale your wall and reach into an impossibly high cupboard, pulling out some cat food. Suddenly, the four spiders see two bright green eyes in the darkness of what appears to be your bedroom. You fill up a bowl, and your black cat saunters over to you. You pet his head, giving him a few scritches between the ears, his favorite spot. Hobie’s grateful you’re preoccupied with your cat because he does not need you to see the expression on his face. He loves cats. Especially black cats, they’re a perfect symbol of rebellion. Maybe he’ll come back here one day but only for your cat. ONLY.
“Alright, now that you’ve fed the cat, can we please leave? I can feel my soul bein’ sucked out of my body the longer I stand here,” Hobie says, impatiently, and you roll your eyes. “That’s the ghosts doing that, you know.”
“Oh, fuck off.”
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『 tag list 』
@casmosmoon* @d1nne​ @dotheyevenknowmars @f1shb0nez @fisshil @imarealfungi @ineedsomeconfidence​ @iwillrisefromthefire @jingliuu @jjkclub @khaleesihavilliard @marshallowy @miwagila @naarra* @nikabearr​ @sillylittleguyinc @sparklyphantom @sxftiebee @weyrrii* @wheeeelys​ @zero-boxes​ 
*if you are italicized - i am unable to tag you for whatever reason, feel free to reach out and see if we can fix the issue
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mclqren · 26 days
Text
STREAMER ★ LN4
PAIRING ✦ lando norris x fem!streamer!reader
SUMMARY ✦ you are known for your twitch streams, and your friend sets you up with an f1 driver, almost breaking the internet in the process [ SMAU ]
WARNINGS ✦ cursing
REQUESTED ✦ here!
NOTES ✦ reader streams on twitch. i'm so sorry i know absolutely nothing about twitch or streaming, so this may be absolute crap but please bare with me! the fc i've used is tinakitten, but feel free to picture whoever you want! my requests are open so feel free to leave a request :)
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liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, and 881,221 others
tagged yourbsf
yourusername this weekend's been kindaaa crazy 😍 streaming tonight at 7, be there or be square!!
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user1 HOW IS IT POSSIBLY TO BE THIS PERFECTTT!!
user2 oh to live the y/n life.
yourbsf my best frienddd 😘😘
yourusername foreverrrr!! 💘💘
maxfewtrell 🔥🔥
landonorris 🔥🔥🔥🔥
maxfewtrell 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥
yourusername alright guys slow your roll...
maxfewtrell have to make it clear that you're MY BEST FRIEND.
landonorris what so am i nothing to you anymore maxie??? 😔
user3 okay but lando AND max in her comments?? huh??
user4 her and max have been friends for agesss but i had no clue that she knew lando!
user5 she mentioned it on one of her streams at some point, but not recently!
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( caption: who are you guys on about? oh, lando? yeah, we met through max on a stream like last year and we're good friends now. he's so fucking funny, it's crazy. )
liked by yourusername, user6, and 181,499 others
ynfanss y/n speaking about lando norris on her stream last night!! she says they're simply good friends and nothing more than that, and that they met through max last year & have hung out since! what do you guys think? 👀💗
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user6 sooo...they're dating??
user7 MY TWO WORLDS TOGETHER I LOVE
user8 the way they're actually friends is something i actually needed so bad in my life
user9 maybe they're just friends and not dating though??
user10 it's funnier to be delusional
yourusername guys we're just friends!! some of you are having me wheezing over here😭😭
user11 heard it from the source guys🫡
user12 hmm idkk...still don't buy it!
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liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, and 1,003,431 others
tagged landonorris, maxfewtrell, pietra.pilao +
yourusername so...how tf did i get here then? 🤷‍♀️❄️
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user15 Y/N HANGING OUT W QUADRANT??
user16 THIS CANNOT BE REAL IM SCREAMING RN.
user17 okay but HOW DO YOU LOOK SO PERFECT??
user18 serving looks ALWAYSSS
pietra.pilao my entire hearttt 💗
yourusername only reason i survived this trip 🤷‍♀️💘
maxfewtrell so what am i then??
yourusername trash 🚮
landonorris skiing natural 🤣🤣
yourusername AS IF YOU WERE ANY BETTER.
user19 okay but the banter she has w all of them?? esp lando.
user20 stop it's like she's always hung out w them
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liked by yourusername, maxfewtrell, and 3 others
tagged yourusername, maxfewtrell
lando.jpg just an intermission ⛷️
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user21 OKAYY MR NORRIS BACK W THE POSE
user22 HIS GO TO FR
user23 his hair in the third pic oh my
user24 frothing at the mouth 🔥
user25 OKAY BUT Y/N?? HOW IS SHE SO GORGEOUS
user26 Y/N MAKING HER LANDO.JPG DEBUT I SEEEE
maxfewtrell the picture of me...
lando.jpg isn't it gorgeous!
yourusername THE SLIP OF MAX IS TAKING ME OUTTT
maxfewtrell why are my two best friends ganging up on me...
lando.jpg it's a rite of passage
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liked by user27, user28, and 158,910 others
ynfanss y/n streaming last night!! it was just a catch up stream today, but she spoke about her ski trip with lando norris & the rest of quadrant, and answered a couple of questions about their friendship!
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user27 SOMEONE TELL ME WHAT SHE ANSWERED WHEN ASKED ABOUT THEIR FRIENDSHIP
user28 she didn't really answer it PROPERLY, she just kept giggling and saying they were just very good friends
user29 did yall see her face light up when lando messaged her halfway through the stream though...it was sooo cute.
user30 i am actually her biggest fan no joke i love her
user31 so her and lando aren't dating??
user32 not as far as im aware, but fans think they might be!
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liked by landonorris, yourbsf, and 798,182 others
yourusername going flower crazy 💐
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user37 tell me what flowers you like rn im off to buy you some to win ur hand in marriage 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️
user38 SOOO REAL FOR THIS
yourbsf STUNNER 💗
yourusername i love youuuu!!💘
user39 WOWEEEE
user40 y/n in her active era??
user41 we love to see it!
landonorris photo credits?? ☹️☹️
yourusername not required after you refused to buy me flowers 😇
landonorris at that price i don't think so??
yourusername no flowers = no credits, sorry norris!
maxfewtrell you guys hanging out without me...mission accomplished!
user42 what does max know...
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liked by yourusername, maxfewtrell, and 1,491,887 others
tagged yourusername
landonorris got MY GIRLFRIEND those flowers in the end 💐😇
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user46 LANDO NORRIS YOU BETTER NOT BE JOKING RIGHT NOW.
user47 STOPP I LOVE THIS
user48 Y/N AND HER FLOWERS AWWW
user49 THE HARD LAUNCH IS HARD LAUNCHINGGG
yourusername thanks for the flowers FINALLY
landonorris my pleasure 😘
user50 they make me crazy
yourusername the third pic of me hello?
landonorris my favourite 🔥
yourusername favorite* my god you're so british
maxfewtrell im so proud right now
user51 as you should be
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liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, and 1,022,901 others
tagged landonorris
yourusername thanks again for introducing us to each other, max!! turns out getting a boyfriend isn't so difficult when your friend loves to meddle 🤷‍♀️💘
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user52 THE CAPTION LMAOO
user53 WE ALL KNEW MAX WAS BEHIND IT.
user54 I LOVE THEMMMM
user55 FINALLYYY OMD
pietra.pilao cuties!! 😘
yourusername i love youuu!! double dates time!
user56 I CANT WAIT FOR THIS.
landnorris oh wow did you have to bait me out w that last one
yourusername deserved!! just know that it comes from a place of love 💘
maxfewtrell i feel like a proud mother right now 😊😊
yourusername thanks again mom!! 😘
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852 notes · View notes
actual-changeling · 4 months
Text
A small 'this is how you use tumblr' for the people that haven't been here very long. These are in no particular order, and if you have any questions, feel free to ask them!
Since I probably did not mention a lot of things, you are welcome to add to this post with your own advice.
a) Reblog posts. if you like it, reblog it. even if you have zero followers and ESPECIALLY if it's art or writing of any kind. We will see the reblog in our notifications and that alone brings joy. One reblog can start a chain and push the post onto many people's dashes.
b) Tumblr is not a very functional website, if you want to survive without losing your mind, there are two things you need: xkit rewritten and dashboard unfucker. Play around with the settings until it is to your liking. Additionally, change to firefox if you haven't already and install ublock origin to get rid of ads, tracking etc.
c) If you go to your settings (account! not blog) you can find this under dashboard at the bottom. Turn off at the very least 'best stuff first' since that will fuck up your dash and not give you posts in chronological order.
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The rest are a perfonal preference but it will keep your dash tidy and easy to control if you turn them off, too.
d) Apropos settings—get a profile picture, a header, write something human in your bio, anything. Otherwise people will assume you are a bot and block you on sight.
e) Blocking! Do it generously and whenever you want, this is how you keep whatever remains of your sanity. It's not a lethal offense, it is (usually) not even seen as rude or anything along those lines. You block people and they block you and everyone is happy.
f) Under account settings you will find this:
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Just like with blocking, use both options to your heart's content.
g) Tumblr is not like other social media platforms, spam liking & reblogging and going three years deep into someone's account is NORMAL and encouraged. You can search a blog by post type, tags, or even go to the archive and scroll through the posts there.
h) Lastly—interaction. We already went over reblogging (I mean it, REBLOG), but there are also replies and asks. If you add something to someone else's post please behave like a kind human being and don't be an asshole; based on my experience, that's easier said than done. On top of that, the tags are ALSO used for communication, go unhinged, ramble, leave your thoughts, or simply use them for organisational purposes. Everyone loves a good insane tag wall.
An open inbox (either anonymously or with your blog attached) is to be used! Please send people asks if they have them active, use it like DMs or a comment section, use it to recommend something, ask questions, participate in an ask or prompt game—we love asks here.
(We do not like harassment in our inboxes, same rules as above.)
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Text
How to be a child
pairing: reader x the grid (platonically), Pierre Gasly x reader
warnings: swearing, description of injuries/bruises, throwing up, passing out, unconsciousness, mentioning of hospital, mentioning of crash, angst
summary: You were the mum of the grid, you always had been. Until it one day it all just gets too much, and you are in desperate need of support. Suddenly 19 boys collectively become your mum, and you need to once again learn how to be a child.
notes: i am so, sorry for the wait. life has been terrible for the me the past months, but here it finally is: part two! as a small compensation, it is very long, and i hope you will like it! feel free to leave comments and/or feedback. likes and reblogs are always appreciated! also, feel free to send in requests! you can find the first part here. a third part will follow at some point, so let me know if you want to be tagged 😊 also, a question for everyone on the taglist: Would you like to be tagged in all of my F1 work, or just in this one?
disclaimer: english is not my first language, so please excuse any mistakes 😊
word count: 8.1k
taglist: @cilliansgirl @tyna-19 @hc-dutch @honethatty12 @sheslikeacurse @rb-danny @hc-dutch @hiphopdancer101universe @teddyluvs @dan3avocado @stillbreathin @mellowturtleangellamp @mcmuppet @shqwqrma @alice07ea @ricsaigaslec @witchychicken @rockyhayzkid @sheluvsf1 @hiddleslovs @laurevdd @caosfanblr @dessxoxsworld @fryskje @stickygladitorbear @goldenharrysworld @mehrmonga @anon-1112 @abcdefghijklmopqrstuvwxyzz @yunoguns @jaydenhateslife @itsandreaca @tsukishimawhore @formula-hamilton @cfjkdyihjkdd @whodis-26 @basicallyherondale @wtrmlnsgr94
“Shut up, you dumbass!”, whisper-yells a voice that sounds like Charles to you. “Or do you want the nurse to realize that we are way more people in here than allowed?” Several people shush at the same time, and you are utterly confused. You slowly open your eyes and catch sight of almost the whole grid cramped into the room. They are bickering with each other, and you cannot help but smile. “Hey guys!”, you croak out and your voice sounds hoarse. Immediately, they all stop talking and look at you. Pierre is the first to move and rushes over to your bed to take a hold of your hand.
“Finally, mon ange!”, he breathes out and you could’ve sworn that you can see tears welling up in his eyes. “What happened?”, you ask, still very much confused. You try to sit up, and immediately Max and Daniel rush to your side to assist you in your undertaking. When you are propped up, you look at your friends, who are standing around the bed – a hospital bed as you have realized by now. Pierre gently strokes your hand, and Lewis raises his voice to tell you what had happened.
After your collapsed in Pierre´s arms, and your friends and colleagues form a wall to shield you, Pierre gently picks you up and carries you out of the public eye and into Lando´s room. Everyone is close to panic, no one really knowing what had prompted you to pass out. The doctors, alerted by someone, rush in, and examine you. They cannot really find any reason, apart from the injuries in your face. They suspect that it might be something severe, so the whole grid is close to losing their mind. You are than a friend to most, rather part of their family. The called ambulance takes you with them, Pierre riding in the back with you.
When you arrive at the hospital, the doctors take you away from Pierre to examine you thoroughly, determined to find out what is wrong with you. It takes an hour, one more, and another. By now, the hallway of the floor you are on is filled with the other drivers. Everyone wanted to be there for you when you wake up. With every minute, the boys get more nervous, grow more worried. After four hours, the doctor comes out.
“We stabilized her. We assume that she suffered an acute exhaustion attack, caused by a lack of sleep and too much stress paired with a concussion. We expect her to sleep for a few days, but she was lucky. It could have been way worse. She will need to rest as much as possible once she wakes up to ensure that neither her brain nor her heart will suffer from long term consequences.”
The drivers are all shocked. You are still so young, and now this. They realise, all for themselves, that maybe they had demanded too much of you for too long. Guilt threatened to eat up them, more with every day you didn’t wake up for. Until three later, on a Wednesday, you finally wake up again.
You are quiet for a few minutes. Just when you are about to say something, the door opens and a nurse steps in. When she sees all the drivers, she rushes them out - all except one. Pierre doesn’t leave your side. He sits with you when the doctor comes in and tells you that you were lucky. He makes it very clear that you must take time for yourself to make sure that you would not suffer lasting effects. You nod, trying to understand everything he says.
“Would you mind leaving me alone for a minute, please?”, you ask. The doctor nods, while Pierre stays by your side. “You too, Pierre.” He looks at you, shocked for a minute, offended even. “Don’t send me away, y/n. You seem like you need someone with you right now.” “Just give me a fucking minute alone, Pierre!”, you snap at him, and he gets up and leaves without another word. You know that wasn’t fair, but your whole world just turned upside down. You will apologize later.
You clench your hands to fists; you feel like you are going to lose your shit. The feelings threaten to drown you, you are barely able to keep yourself over the water. You need to get out of here – you want to be everywhere but here. You lift yourself out of bed, determination flooding your system. When you stand up, you grind your teeth. Your whole body is almost shaking because just the act of getting up was so exhausting. You feel so very small, weak, and fragile. You take two, three slow steps, holding onto the hospital bed with every step. When you reach the end of the bed, you back another step forward, but without holding onto something, your body gives in. You crash to the ground; your body hits the floor with a loud thud.
Immediately, the door opens and Pierre storms in. He sees on you sitting on the floor, knees pulled to your chest, head buried in your hands. He rushes over to you and takes you in his arms. “I am so afraid, Pierre!”, you sob into his shoulder as he holds you. His heart breaks right there and then. You cry for what feels like hours, and when you are done, Pierre helps you onto the bed again. The doctors had allowed for you to leave the hospital in Brazil to be taken care of by your personal doctor in Monaco. However, much comes with that – your transport must be organized, you have to talk to the team, and all of that.
You are starting to panic, you feel so exhausted still, you have no idea how you would be able to manage all of that. “You don’t need to worry, ange. We are scheduled to fly out tonight in the private jet, everything around the transport is organized. Only Max, Daniel, Lando and I will join so that you can rest as much as possible. We will have to leave for the weekend, but I will promise you that we will be back as soon as possible.” You nod, overwhelmed that they cared so much for you. After one last check up, the doctor wishes you all the best and discharges you.
They provide you with a wheelchair because you are still weakened and every bone in your body hurts – even the ones you didn’t know you had. Pierre pushes you out of the hospital and towards the parking lot, where you can spot Daniel standing between an unfamiliar car. Usually, all of you drove fast and sporty cars, but this was a car you expected to see in a suburban neighbourhood where everyone had at least three kids.
“Nice ride!”, you say, and your voice is still hoarse. You are pretty sure that you look like shit, but the boys do not let on. They don’t look at you with pity and you are beyond grateful for that. “Thanks, we had to improvise a bit!” Daniel walks over to you and pulls you out of the wheelchair with ease, lifting you into his arms bridal style. He carries you over to the car, careful to not hurt you. However, his limb coordination when it comes to carrying people apparently isn’t the best. You close your eyes when you see the car door frame coming closer, but instead of bumping into the hard metal, your head is met with a soft surface. You open your eyes and see Lando smiling at you. The boy had put his hand over the door frame, softening the impact. Your eyes almost start to water at the sweet gesture.
Once you are seated, Pierre climbs into the back with you and helps you to put your seatbelt on before he settles himself in. Lando sits in the back as well. Max is the passenger princess. Daniel is starting the car, and you watch Max still without his seatbelt on. Before, you can say something, Pierre turns to Max. “Put your fucking seatbelt on!”, he says and a small smile appears on your face. You don’t really catch more of the chatting, as just the way to the car exhausted you completely and you opt for some sleep. Pierre´s shoulder functions as your cushion, and it is quite comfortable, at least for this purpose. Already almost in slumber you only subconsciously realize that someone puts a blanket over you. You snuggle closer into Pierre and fall into a deep and dreamless slumber.
You wake when someone unbuckles your seatbelt. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you!”, Pierre apologizes, but you wave it off. “I think I have slept enough the past days”, you joke half-heartedly, and he gives you a tiny smile. Only now in this close proximity, you can see the dark bags under his eyes, the worry on his face. He looks five years older, beard unshaved, little stubbles growing in a disorganized way. “I am sorry for causing you so much worry”, you whisper barely audible, but he hears you, like he always does. He shakes his head. “Mon ange, no. None of this is your fault, if anything, it is ours.” You are just about to ask what he means when Daniel interrupts the two of you.
“We should get going!”, he says, and Pierre helps you out of the car. He carries you the last few meters to the jet, and places you down on one of the seats. Before you can engage in a conversation with him, Lando joins you on the seat next to you and slams a big bag on the table. “Y/n, I hope you are hungry!” You focus your attention on him and just now realize how hungry you are. “Starving, actually!” Lando smacks his lips and starts unpacking the bag. “Well, in that case, good for you, because I come prepared!” There is everything you could ask for – snacks, fruits, sandwiches. You decide to start with an apple, which Lando insists on cutting into small pieces for you. “Lando!”, you laugh, “I am not a child!” He grins. “Well, y/n, you need care and nursing and love now, so we all have decided to you are no longer our mum, you are now our child!” You flip him off playfully and continue to eat your apple pieces quietly while Lando talks your ear off, which you honestly do not mind. It distracts you from all the negative thoughts.
After a few hours, Daniel, Lando and Max are asleep. You are quite awake on the other hand and the soft shine of a display coming from Pierre´s seat indicates that he as well is awake. You carefully walk over to him, holding onto the seats. It takes all of your strength to make the few meters, but you manage and fall into the seat next to the Frenchman. He looks up from his phone and gifts you a smile. “Hey”, you say softly, “You okay?” Pierre shakes his head but continues to smile. “You are unbelievable, y/n! You are the one that was in the hospital the last days, not me.” “I can still worry about you guys though, no?”, you grin crookedly, but Pierre is still very serious. “Of course, but the important thing now is that you need to get better, and to do that, you need to learn to say no, and you need to learn to listen to yourself.” You want to interrupt him, but he doesn’t let you. “But most importantly, we – me and the others – need to learn to get our own shit together, and not always bother you!”
You can feel that he is a bit angry, so you gently place your hand on his biceps. “Pierre, you never bothered me. It was just a bit too much the past weeks! Everything will be fine, in fact, everything is fine.” Pierre shakes his head at you, you can feel that he is still upset. “No, nothing is fine. The last days were absolutely horrible, y/n. I was so afraid; I don’t think I have ever been this afraid. I couldn’t sleep because I was afraid that I would wake up and someone was going to tell me that you died. It was a nightmare, I don’t ever want to feel that again – so I am begging you, please take all the time you need to rest and heal. I cannot lose you.” You are a taken aback by his words. “I will, I promise!”, you say, and Pierre pulls you onto his lap and into a tight hug. He doesn’t let go for a while, and you don’t mind. It keeps you from falling apart.
You land a few hours later, you before you can protest, Lando lifts you out of your seat. “My turn!”, he laughs, and you decide to not pick a fight. “Yeah, it’s cool”, you say and playfully roll your eyes, “Just pick me up whenever.” Lando makes a sad face, and you can sense that he feels bad. “I am sorry”, he utters, “I should have at least asked if it was okay for me to pick you up!” You shake your head. “Don’t worry about it, its not like a have a choice. I can´t exactly walk away”, you joke. You know it is a bad joke, and maybe it was too early to joke about it. For a moment, it is quiet, but then Daniel lets out a little snort. He tries his best to keep in a laugh, but when Max looks at him, he cannot help himself and bursts out laughing. The Dutchman joins him, so do you, and in a matter of seconds, Pierre and Lando are laughing as well. It takes you a while to calm down, because all of you just really needed to laugh off the shock of the past days.
Lando carries you down and into the car. Charles had offered to pick you up and drive you to your apartment, joined by Pierre. “Hey Charles!”, you greet the man and move over to give him an uncomfortable hug over the middle console. He doesn’t seem to mind, however. “You don’t know how good it is to see you, y/n!” You smile at him after you pull away, and he starts the car as soon as Pierre has settled in as well. A bit later, you arrive by your apartment building. Pierre gets out the wheelchair, and helps you to climb in. It is still new for you, and you hope that you will get rid of it soon. It makes you feel utterly helpless, but just the few steps in the plane earlier were hard and exhausting. For a moment, the thought that you might never be able to race again crosses your mind, but you push it away violently. So far, you had achieved everything in your life that you had set your mind to, and you sure as hell will not let anything stop you now.
It feels good to be back in your own space. You exhale deeply and you immediately start to feel a bit better. The familiar surrounding eases your negative thoughts, and you find yourself calming down. “Alright”, says Charles, “I will get going and get the crutches from the doctor, and get groceries, then I will be back!” Before you can say something, he is out of the door. “The doctors in Brazil contacted your doctor here to consult and discuss next steps.” You nod, feeling slightly overwhelmed. Pierre tells you bit more about the topic, but you can’t really focus your attention. At some point, you let out a big yawn. Pierre chuckles. “Seems like someone is tired!” “Exhausted”, you tell him, and he gives you an understanding nod. “How about you take a nap?”, he offers. “Sounds super!”
He helps you into your room, where you quickly change into some shorts and a shirt. After you are done, Pierre enters the room with a glass of water in his hand. “I know that you like to keep a glass of water next to your bed, so I figured I would bring you one!” “How do you know?”, you question. He shrugs his shoulders. “You mentioned it one day…” “Thank you!” He smiles at you, puts the glass down and grabs the blanket. He throws it over you and gently tugs you in. “Sleep well, mon ange!”, he says but you are already sound asleep.
The next week is exhausting, more mentally than physically. You are able to leave the wheelchair rather quickly, but you still the need the crutches for support. Despite the fact that you weren’t really injured, at least not in the traditional sense, your body was still weak. You just cannot really rely on it right now, so the crutches are there to support and help you. You are just happy that you are out of the wheelchair and that you have a tiny bit of your independency back. What helps even more however, is the constant support of your friends. They cannot be with you right now, as there are still two more races for them to finish. Your doctor appointments keep you occupied, your family visits and helps you with whatever you need. Your friends call you, sometimes just to tell you minor things but it helps. You don’t feel isolated, and you cheer on them from your living room. Right now, it feels okay to not be on track – you feel like you are going to be okay.
The season ends in the end of November. Winter has Monaco in its grip, the first snow falls. Everything looks so pretty that you cannot really feel down. On top of that you love Christmas, and you keep yourself busy with present shopping, at least until you have to get ready to leave for England. It is a Tuesday, and you had just been at the doctor’s office. While your doctor is sure that you will fully recover, he also gives you a real perspective on things. The possibility is there that you can race next season, but the cost could potentially be high. He tells you to consider your options. Lando picks you up from this appointment and together you drive to the airport. The two of you were scheduled to fly to the McLaren headquarters for a week to discuss the next possible steps. The flight goes over quick, you are unusually quiet – and Lando just lets you be. He can sense that you need the time, so he gives it to you.
When you step out of the airport, Zak waits for there for you personally. The older man pulls you in a tight hug, it had been a while since he had seen you in person. “Good to see you, kid!”, he tells you with a fatherly tone in his voice. You grin at him, happy to see him. You climb into the car and Zak drives you to his home, to have dinner with his family. You quite enjoy it, but you feel yourself get tired after a while. Lando notices and decides to call a taxi for the both of you to drive to the hotel.
You share a suite, in case something was to happen during the night, but you sleep well. After a nice breakfast, you are getting picked up for the headquarters and inside you are feeling very nervous. You are good at hiding it, but you fiddle with your fingers. Lando takes one of your hands and gently squeezes it. Only now that you are not good on foot you realize how big the McLaren compound really is.
The core team meets in a room close to the entrance for your sake. They are all beyond happy to see you, everyone is relieved that you are on your feet again, at least partly. It is not many people, as you agreed with Zak to discuss the next steps in a small team before you met with everyone. After exchanging some courtesies, it is time for you to tell them of your decision. You take a deep breath and Lando once again squeezes your hand. No one knows what you are going to tell them, and you don’t really know how to tell them. You decide it is best to rip the band aid of fast.
“After consulting with my doctor yesterday, I think it is best if I resign for indeterminate time, until I am fully recovered.” The room is eerily quiet, everyone is a bit shocked. “While I could possibly sit myself into the car next season, I would not be able to give you guys the results you deserve. Trust me, this is not what I wanted, but if I race next season, the possibility of lasting health issues is very likely, and I do not believe that some half-assed results are worth that. I want to apologize –“ “Don’t!”, Zak interrupts you, “We have all developed a soft spot for you in our hearts, and we were all shocked when we heard what the doctors in Brazil said. Your health comes first. While we are deeply saddened about you resigning for indeterminate time, I believe I speak for all of us when I say that we would like to keep you around one way or the other.” You nod, tears welling up in your eyes. On the one side because they were so supportive, on the other side because you stating your resignation makes it a lot more real.
Now it is official – at least within your team – that you will not start next season. It feels a bit like your world is ending, your goals are out of your reach. You feel hopeless, and like you are – quite frankly – an absolute loser. Self-doubts threaten to eat you up, you want to curl up in a ball and just stop existing for a while. You spent the rest of the meeting lost in your thoughts, and the next days go by in a blur. You visit the headquarter many more times that week, talking to the team, discussing the best way to communicate your indeterminate resignation. You call Pierre a lot, telling him about everything. He deserves to know from you, so do all of your other friends. You cry a lot those days, Lando never quite leaving your side. He is there for you, so is everyone else. Yet you find yourself withdrawing yourself from almost everyone except Pierre. You call him daily, sometimes more than once. Many times, he has to listen to you softly sobbing into the phone, and it breaks his heart. But he never blames you, he always listens, he always comforts you.
After an exhausting week, there is only one more thing to do – film your resignation video. You cry during the video too, but you don’t mind – you love your fans, and they deserve to know the truth and witness your real feelings about your resignation. In the end, the video is 10 minutes long – you explain your reasons, you promise that you will be back. And you mean that. Somehow, you have found your fighting spirit once again. The video ends with a collage of your best moments in F1. A tribute to your achievements so far, but you are now certain there will be more eventually. You will put all the work in necessary so that you would heal properly, and that you would be able to sit in the car next year.
You fly back to Monaco alone – Lando would have come with you, but you told him to stay home with his family for a bit. He drove you to the airport and saw that you get to the plane just fine. When you land, Lewis and Valtteri are already there to welcome you back. They are kind and gentle and brotherly, and your soul heals a bit when they take you to lunch that day. They don’t make you feel like a loser anymore, they tell you that they are proud of you for making this hard decision. The three of you share things that you have never spoken about before, and it helps. The sun is shining on a white Monaco and your heart becomes full and hopeful. You are still weak and exhausted, and when they take you home you are more than ready to sleep, but it is different.
The next week is a busy week once again. You visit your doctor and your personal trainer a lot, discussing measures to help you healing, and setting up a slow training program that would help keep you in shape, while not overburdening your body. You still call Pierre every day to talk to him. He is with his family in France for Christmas, and he has invited you to join him. You tell him you will once you feel better. He understands, like he always does. He makes you laugh with his joke, and he tells you he misses you. You miss him, and when he drops one of his compliments, it is somehow different now. Your cheeks heat up sometimes, and your heart skips a beat.
Christmas is nice, and special. You are home, and for once you have nothing to do – no real training, only little exercises. No media duties, and you enjoy the time with your family. After New Year’s, you travel back to home to Monaco to rest and heal. The boys are all there for you – for whatever you need. They ask you how you are all the time, and they help you where they can. It is the little things, really, and one day you feel particularly bad about it. You cannot really give them anything back at the moment, and you feel like you are using them. You wake up with those feelings that they, and to distract yourself from them, you go on Instagram. Scrolling through your feed, you occasionally send them funny videos. It was the least you could do. After an hour or so, you lift yourself out of the bed, finally. You are very hungry, and you think about ordering something, when suddenly your doorbell rings. You need some time to reach it, walking slowly with your crutches, and when you open it, Daniel stands there in front of you. “You send me the first Reel on Instagram like one hour ago, so I figured you are hungry by now. I brought groceries and I am here to cook for you!” “I… You shouldn’t have!”, you try to argue, but Daniel already moves past you and into your kitchen. You follow him slowly.
When you see that he is already collecting dishes to prepare breakfast, you just sigh. He picks up the defeated sound and perks up, smiling at you. His face falls when he sees the way you look at him, like you are almost crying. “Hey hon, what´s up?”, he asks you. “I just… I feel so bad about all of this. I feel like I am using all of you, and like I am not giving anything back!” Daniel shakes is head violently, and he comes over to pull you in a hug. You almost disappear in it, and he draws soothing circles on your back. “Y/n, don’t ever say or think something like that again. You have almost given your life for us, and this is what friends are here for. We help each other when we can – sometimes one or the other does give a bit more. It equals out in the end. Besides, you still listen to all of us rambling, and you still give the best advice!” He pulls away and a tiny smile is on your face now. He ruffles your hair and before you can protest, he is back in the kitchen. “Now, go rest your ass on the couch, mate!”, he says, and you cannot help but laugh when you limp over to the living room.
Breakfast is nice, and Daniel makes you laugh with his stupid jokes. It is good to feel like this. You know that right now was the easy part – your friends are here, and they all have time for you. But you are afraid of what is coming after the winter break – when they are all gone, and you won’t be able to be with them doing the things you love the most. It will most likely break your heart, but you try not to think about it, at least not now.
It is a few weeks later, the next season will start soon. You have picked up training again, very slowly. It mainly consisted off walking on the treadmill, holding onto the sides. A few easy exercises that keep your body mobile and flexible and your muscles occupied. Spring is blooming in Monaco; the first sun is shining. Everything is going well. Well, almost everything. Right now, you are beyond embarrassed.
You had felt better today, so you had taken the taxi down to your favourite park to enjoy some time there. It had been late afternoon already, you had walked around a bit and sat down in a small restaurant to eat dinner. Now, it is later than expected, it was dark, getting colder by the minute, and you are beyond exhausted. Furthermore, the crippling feeling in your legs leaves you to panic, which is why you – against all rationality – do not call a taxi. Instead, you call Max, who picks up almost immediately. “Can you pick me up, Maxie?”, you choke out, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “Send me your location!”, he says, and you can hear that he already picks up his keys. You nod, even though he cannot see that, and send him your location with shaky fingers. Max is there just ten minutes later to collect you. As soon as you see him, the tears really start to flow. He wraps his arms around you, his sweatshirt is collecting your tears, and he whispers encouragements while he gently strokes your hair. After a few minutes, you calm down and he helps you to his car.
He holds open the passenger door for you, and you climb in, almost falling because your legs are giving out under you. But Max is there, he catches you, and helps you. He closes the door behind you and gets in on his side. “You okay?”, he asks. You nod, using the sleeves of your sweatshirt to wipe away the leftovers of your tears. Max starts the car and drives through the dark streets of Monaco. You don’t know where he is going until he stops at the drive through of a Fast-Food restaurant. “I figured the occasion called for ice cream or a milkshake”, he tells you when you he sees your questioning expression. A tiny smile creeps onto your face. Max orders you a milkshake and gives it to you. You hold it in two hands like a child and Max cannot help but laugh. You pout a little, but ultimately smile when he takes a picture of you holding the cup in your hand.
He drives you to your place and helps you up to your apartment. Reaching the door, he stops for a moment and thinks. “Would you like some company tonight?” For a moment you think about telling him to go home, because you don’t want to trouble him any further. But being alone tonight sounds terrible, so you push down the unnecessary feeling of guilt and nod. He steps into the apartment with you and helps you take of your jacket. Together, the two of you settle in on the couch and put on a movie. You feel your eyes get heavy, but before you can tell Max that he might as well go home as you are about to fall asleep, you slip into slumber.
The next morning, you wake up in your bed. You stretch and roll over to your phone. A text from Max. “Don’t get scared when you wake up, I am sleeping on the couch.” You smile to yourself and get up. Max is still asleep, so you climb into the shower. Once you are done and dressed, you make your way into the kitchen to make breakfast. Already in the hallway, you hear voices. You are confused – you know that Max is here, but who else? Stepping into the kitchen, your eyes fall on Pierre. Immediately, a big smile appears on your face. “Pierre!”, you exclaim happily and his face lights up once his eyes fall on you. He rushed over and wraps you in a tight hug. What you don’t see is the wiggling eyebrows Max aims at Pierre. Pierre just rolls his eyes and then closes them to take in your scent for a moment. Soon after, you break the hug, but Pierre stays close, his arm loosely wrapped around your hips.
Max excuses himself shortly after, as he has an appointment. You bit him goodbye, and when the door falls close, you turn around to Pierre. “Why are you here already?”, you ask him, and he flashes you a cheeky grin. “Not happy to see me?” You shake your head but laugh. “I am more than happy to see you, Pierre! I was just thought you would arrive in two days.” “Well,”, he says and wraps you in another hug, “I really wanted to see you!” You are happy that your face is buried in his chest because a blush creeps on your cheeks.
Pierre pulls back a little and looks at you. “Are you feeling better today?”, he asks with genuine concern. You nod, “Yeah, thanks to Max. He picked me up last night and stayed over to make sure I was okay.” “Max told me what happened. Please, ange, you need to be careful. I know it is hard to be confined in this space and not being as independent as you used to be, but you need to watch out for your health.” You sigh, but nod. “I know. I am just really tired off this, and I want to experience things again. I am afraid that I won’t ever be able to get into the car again…” Pierre nods understandingly. “I get that. But the more you rest and listen to your body, the sooner you will be fully healed.” “Yeah, you are right. I –“, you want to say something more, but suddenly, your stomach growls.
Pierre laughs and you grin, a bit embarrassed. “I think you need some food!”, Pierre says. “Yeah, I am starving!” The two of you make your way into the kitchen and just now you see the huge bouquet of flowers on your kitchen counter. “Wow, these are beautiful”, you exclaim, “Thank you Pierre!” He smiles and waves it off. “It´s nothing”, he says, but for you, it is everything. Pierre pulls out one of your pans, and as you are about to help him, he shoots you a glare. You lift your hands up in mock defence and make your way into the living room. You get your laptop from the couch and sit down on the dining table, as you have some things to finish up. Just because you were not a driver anymore, that didn’t mean that you had nothing to do. Especially now that the winter break slowly came to an end – you had agreed with McLaren that you would be involved in their Social Media activity. It had been Lando´s idea, and you are really grateful for it.
While you couldn’t start on the grid next season, you also didn’t want to entirely leave the F1 world. You are not yet sure if that is a good decision, to be involved but not driving, but you would have to wait and see. Pierre joins you a bit later with some breakfast, and you are beyond happy to finally have him with you again. The two of you will spend some time in Monaco together, before the new season started.
You make the most out of that time. Some days you just sleep in, you in your bed and Pierre in the guest bedroom, and then you would have a long breakfast, you would take a little walk, talked with the fans. He helps you with your exercises, he is a gentle trainer, yet he inspires you to go a tiny, tiny step forward every day. He massages your muscles when they are tired, he applies the lotion your doctor prescribed you. He takes you out for lunch or dinner, he goes shopping with you if that is what you desire. He finds the best clothes for you, you feel pretty in them, you feel worth it in them. He makes you feel safe and protected and if you knew better you would say that he makes you feel loved, but you don’t talk about that. Right now, it is not the time for it, and you both just enjoy what you have for now. The lingering touches, the way the two of you gravitated towards each other. He takes good care of you, and he never gives you the feeling of being a burden, even if you need help with silly little things. Like when your arms and hands are so tired that you cannot take off your own socks. He never makes you feel like you have to be embarrassed about any of those things and it helps.
The break ends soon after these great moments and you hold up quite well. Saying goodbye to Pierre is hard, and you cry. He holds you and presses a kiss on your forehead and tell you that you can always call him. But it will be different, there will be the time difference and he will be busy, and you will be not. He still makes sure to call you whenever, and it works good somehow. Maybe it is because summer comes to Monaco and your friends visit you whenever you can. You train, you take it easy, you rest, and you heal. Soon enough, you are able to go for jogs again, your training becomes longer and harder and you seem to be on the right way. By the summer break, you feel stronger already, and life is rather normal again. You still feel exhausted some days and you are not where you used to be. But you were okay with that.
The sun lifts your mood up, even on the days you don’t manage to run very far. You still go out these days, just go get the kilometres down, to keep your body moving. Summer break comes, and with that the boys are back in town. They spend most of their free time with you, and you are beyond grateful for that. It means the world to you, that they come and visit. Pierre spends a lot of time in Monaco with you as well. You take it easy, enjoying the time together. Just like over winter break, he takes you out a lot. You go and see museums, concerts, whatever there is to do. Some days are exciting, others are slow and relaxing. You take naps on the day bed on your balcony, enjoying the warm summer sun. Your head often rests on Pierre´s lap, or you are cuddled up in his arms during those naps. Still, you don’t talk about it, it is all very natural, your relationship growing stronger every minute you spend together. However, labelling it is not your priority right now, it is still your healing journey.
The two of you also spend lot of time together with the other drivers. Like today for example. Currently, you are laying in the warm sun on the deck of Charles yacht. The boys are bickering about something, while you are reading. You had just left the harbour a few minutes ago, and the boys already distracted you from your book. You cannot help but smile though, you had missed this. It was almost like you were still part of the driver line-up, and you feel relieved that nothing has really changed. They are all still the same adorable dorks they used to be. Some time later, Charles stops the yacht in the middle of the sea. By now you are sweating and very warm, so you are the first person to take the leap of the deck into the ocean.
It is not really a problem; you feel good today. The guys follow soon after, and you start to joke around, splash each other with water, dunking each other under. You have so much fun that you don’t really listen to your body. You splash and dunk and swim around. Pierre watches you closely, like he always does. When you climb up the ladder, he is relieved that you choose to take a break, so he follows. You, however, have other plans. You are about to get ready to jump off the boat another time, when Pierre stops you. “You sure about that, do you not rather want to take a break?” You grin at him with the objective to calm him down. “I feel fine, Pierre!” He nods. “Just be careful, okay?” “Of course!”
You feel your mistake when you start to run to jump off the deck. Your legs are suddenly very, very heavy. You cannot stop anymore however, and before you realize, you are in the air. The force of impact on the surface of the water knocks the breath out of your lungs, your entire body suddenly feels heavy – almost too heavy for you to swim towards the surface. It takes you long to emerge from the water, too long. The others realize when you don’t come up immediately. Charles starts to swim towards you. A splash rips you from your apathy and you swim towards the surface with heavy arms. You emerge coughing and one second later Pierre is right next to you. He helps you to hold yourself over water, and soon, Charles is by your side as well. You are embarrassed, but they don’t let on how scared they really were. Pierre helps you up the stairs and you sit down in one of the seating areas. Pierre brings you a towel and wraps you in it. When the towel is around you, he doesn’t let go. “I am sorry!”, you whisper, “I should have listened to you.” Pierre shakes his head. “Don’t worry, just don’t scare me like that again.” “I won´t!”, you promise and snuggle closer into Pierre. He holds you and you fall asleep soon after.
The rest of the summer break is spent similar. You hang out with Pierre and the guys, you go to France with Pierre, you visit your family, life is good. But then, the races start again, and fall comes to Monaco and with that the rain and the grey days. You are not able to go out of your apartment that much anymore, you are lacking energy and you feel like you are making steps back. Your training doesn’t go as smooch anymore, you feel like your comeback might be in jeopardy.
You are in a bad mood, there is no reason to sugar coat that. You are beyond miserable. The feeling that you will not return next season haunts you, and you are terrified of it. What if you will not manage to ever race again? You have never known something else; you have never learned something else. You feel like you are drowning, and your saving comes in form of a particular Frenchman. He knows that you had been able to go on runs again and that you did harder workouts again, he knows that you were on a way to get better. When your best friend calls him and tells him that you spent most of your days inside now not doing much, he doesn’t believe it at first.
He does, however, when you open the door and look like you haven’t changed out of your sweatpants in a week. You look messy, eyes puffy and tired features. He is scared to see you like this, so hopeless and so… He doesn’t know how to describe it, but you look so little, so tiny. You weren’t the tallest, but usually you carried yourself like you were the tallest in any room. Now, you are hunched over. For a moment he thinks you are going to close the door in his face, but you don’t. “Put your clothes on, we are going for a run!”, he tells you. You don’t protest verbally, but your attitude shows him enough. He doesn’t flinch though. He drags you out of the apartment – you still haven’t said a word. He takes your hand when you arrive downstairs, and he pulls you with him. A little “Pierre, I can´t!” leaves your mouth, but he pretends that he doesn’t hear it. And, after the first meters, you seem to shake off the paralysis that had a tight grip on you the past week.
Your breath is steady, and you are keeping up well with him. It starts to rain, the trail becomes wet, and you slip at some point. You fall, and this little happening seems to make you fall apart. You stay on the ground, and you don’t grab Pierre´s hand when he reaches out. At first, he doesn’t realize but then he sees that you are crying, and he doesn’t care about his outfit – he drops to his knees next to you and hugs you. You want to turn away from him, you feel so fucking weak and pathetic, and he sees you in that state. It embarrasses you; it makes you angry. You want to push him away, you struggle a bit against his grip, but Pierre doesn't let go of you.
“Why am I so weak?”, you cry softly in his shirt, but Pierre hears you. “You are not weak, mon ange”, he whispers. He pulls you a bit closer, like he is afraid that the rain will wash and carry you away. “You are the strongest person I know. I know that life is hard at the moment, and I cannot imagine how you are feeling. But you will get there, I know that!” “I feel like I am the absolute worst version of myself right now, and I just don’t see myself driving next year, but… But that´s all I have ever known, it´s all I have ever wanted!” Pierre still holds you close. The rain is coming down harder now, and you are getting soaked to the skin. You don’t care, it doesn’t matter to you. “If I know anything, I know that you will come back stronger next than ever next year!” “Why do you keep on believing in me, Pierre?”
“You might see yourself as the worst version of yourself right now, but I think you are the strongest, the fiercest version of yourself right now.” For a moment, Pierre falls silent. He takes a deep breathe before he whispers the words into your ear, as if he is afraid that they will be washed away by the rain when he speaks up or speaks them further away from you. “And I believe in you because it is the only thing that keeps me sane. I cannot even begin to think about the fact that you might not ever race again, because it would affect my life in so many ways. It might be selfish, but I would not get to see you as much anymore, and the thought of that is terrible to me. I want to be able to come out of the garage and walk over to hug you. I want to hear your laugh sound all over the paddock because someone cracked a joke. And, most importantly, I believe in you because I am completely and helplessly in love with you.”
You need a moment to take that information in, understanding what he just told you. “You don’t need to say anything, I –“, you stop him by pulling out of his hug and taking your face in both of your hands. The position is not really comfortable, but you don´t care. You press your cold lips against his and kiss him. He kisses you back, and you can feel his warmth seeping into your bones. The rain is still coming down hard, but all you can feel is Pierre's arms around you, and it feels like you have found a lifeline, like you have a new purpose to fight and return stronger than before.
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