#it should be noted that i haven't read the story yet

[the-cards-she-wont-show]

TTPD Twin Storylines weaved together & double meanings throughout! ✌️👯‍♀️💕

Attention ALL Swifties (particularly Gaylors) and associates of the Tortured Poets department

PLEASE READ!! (and read with an open mind!!)🤍

Listening to the amazing TTPD on repeat this past week, I am certain that I have made an important discovery that I haven't seen talked about anywhere else yet and would like to get the coversation going, in hopes that Taylor will see that we are all finally listening to her! I'm still piecing everything together, as there is so much to unravel and am far from calling myself an expert on her exact timelines and dates, so am looking forward to hearing thoughts from others that are more knowledgable in her history.

I have been of the belief for a while now that Mastermind and Dear Reader were foretelling of her future, and also that the album title had a double meaning (evidenced by the lack of apostrophe in 'poets'). That the tortured poet would be departing. Note that I am also a believer that she has been closeted by those closest to her and is preparing to ruin her name and perceived reputation, give up the false public version of herself and come into her own true self. Everything as we know it will be destroyed and it is all playing out now, coming together as part of her plan.

Falling in line with all of the two's - the double album, the double meaning in the album name, the two sides of taylor etc, I have found that there are two intertwining stories told throughout her tracklist, AND that all songs also have a double meaning!! None of which are about the perceived muses of Travis, Matty or Joe. The 'evidence' for those relationships are all red herrings (for example 'putting narcotics into all of my songs' - but only in the songs with obvious reference to her beards), to make it seem ambiguous and open to interpretation of who the songs may be about, which is seen often throughout her discography. She uses an incredible amount of metaphors and we must look beyond those to decipher her lyrics - do not take anything at face level with Taylor. Most should realise that she is so much smarter than making obvious songs about whichever male muse she is 'dating' at the time. She has always played into that public view to cover her true self. Many songs have themes of secret and hidden love, which juxtaposes with the public 'relationships' she is seen as having.

She tells us in 'The Manuscript' that "lookin' backwards might be the only way to move forward". Therefore we must listen to TTPD in reverse, from track 31 (13 reversed!) to track 1. I believe The Manuscript also acts as a bookend for both of her stories and should be listened to as a closer after the last song of the story 'Fortnight' ends, to get a complete picture. Once we have listened to the album in reverse order, can we see so plainly that each song tells a different story of a period/situation/muse/love/heartbreak in her life - beginning at her parents meeting in The Manuscript, to current day. I think the songs may also actually have a sister song from the corresponding album/period in time, with similar sound, lyrics or theme that connects them. I believe that each song also has a double meaning and can be interpreted as messages to her fans about things that have happened to her over the years or that are about to happen, and she is trying to communicate her feelings of being trapped, which is honestly so heartbreaking. Many relate to her being caged and forced to hide her true self, in particular by one person closest to her - her father. It is devastating to listen to.

The really brilliant part I discovered next, is that The Anthology tracks also have another hidden storyline being told which intertwines and intersects in the exact right place to fit in with her life story. It includes all of the "THE" songs and is in reverse order from the parallel life story and vinyl variants order of issue (but chronological track list order).

The Tortured Poets Department

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived

The Alchemy

The Black Dog

The Albatross

The Prophecy

The Bolter

The Manuscript

Rather than presenting my interpretation of the timeline and each story told in every song, I urge everyone to listen to both stories, in these exact orders, with an open mind as to what she could possibly be describing! My mind was completely blown when I figured this out!! Her mind is incredible, there is no other way to describe the album, other than a masterpiece! I feel so much for the pain she has gone through. This album explains her feelings and reasons for hiding her true self over the years for any fans that will inevitably be feeling upset and deceived. We all need to show compassion for everything Taylor has sacrificed and give her what she needs. She truly deserves love, honesty, happiness and peace. ✌️💜

I'm in the process of creating a document trying to piece all of the hidden connections together just to wrap my head around this amazing body of work, so may possibly link this when I have it completed, otherwise I will add it to this post for anyone that might be interested.

I have a couple of extra personal thoughts, theories and hopes for anyone still reading…

The manuscript of her life story may possibly be the manuscript for a future book/film.

I think one meaning of "Fortnight" is a foretelling message to the fans that havent been noticing any of her many hair pin drops - she has been trying to get the message across but they aren't listening. For the fans she loses when she comes out - she touched them with this album for only a fortnight, before she lost them. She loves the fans but staying in the closet is ruining her life. I think something big could be happening a fortnight after release? Friday 3rd May is International Sun Day. ☀️ Karlie Kloss was always 'sunshine' to Taylor. According to Karlie, their first meeting was at the 2011 Met Gala on May 2, however, there is a possibility that they could have met at the afterparty - after midnight, making the anniversary May 3! 2024 Met Gala is a few days later, could they both make an appearance? If nothing big occurs, perhaps some seeds of doubt will be planted on the 3rd? Or.. It could also be a surprise rep TV (with or without Karma and Debut - surprise triple drop?) with wlw vault tracks?! Who really knows.. I honestly have no idea, but whatever happens, I know Taylor has it all meticulously planned out and everything will happen when it is supposed to.

Taylor is chairman of the Tortured Poets department - the leader of the mass coming out we are about to see. As Chely Wright put - 'we need someone at the top' to come out and pave the way for others to do the same, and to stop the forced closeting in the celebrity world. I think Travis and the majority of her former beards are also queer and there will be many more 'tortured poets' that will join 'the department'.

Karma will be album 1 (TS12) in the 3,2,1 countdown, TS13 is 0 - the album in which she gets all of her full colour back, reclaims her glitter gel pens and finally can sing her truth proudly! She has destroyed her own name and reputation, burnt down the lover house and all her former selves.

Last of all, PLEASE BE KIND! If anyone has made it to the end of this and doesnt agree, I'd love for you to have a listen to the songs in the orders above before commenting. If not, lets just agree to disagree! We all have our own personal takes on Taylor's lyricism and I would never dream of being unkind to another just for having a difference of opinion. 🫶

For Taylor - if you somehow happen to see this - please know you are truly a mastermind, you are loved and we've got you!

🌈💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛🌈

❤️ gerimegs

#taylor swift #gaylor #kaylor #ttpd #thetorturedmusesdept #the tortured poets department #the tortured poets dept #taylorswift #swifties #taylornation #tsttpd #taylor swift eras #erastour

[within-your-eyes-if]

May 1st Progress Update

Hello all!

Very long update, so I apologize ahead of time.

April has been an incredibly productive month for me. I've made substantial revisions and have taken some time to reflect on possible changes for the future.

There are decisions I made earlier in the development of this story that, in hindsight, could have been handled better. While I will continue with the upcoming update as planned, I intend to take additional time afterward to revisit and refine various aspects of the game.

I truly love this story and want it to be the best it can be. I aim to look back on it with pride and minimal regrets. These changes will be comprehensive, affecting everything from narrative elements and gameplay mechanics to the presentation on itch.io.

I hope this update doesn't cause any concern; rather, I want to share this as part of my journey in developing this game, a process that occasionally requires stepping back and reassessing to move forward effectively.

With that said, here are some developments I've been working on that I haven't yet discussed. If you have any thoughts on some of these, I'd welcome the insight:

Guilt System Overhaul: I'm currently refining the code for the guilt system. The upcoming changes will significantly alter how guilt is calculated and displayed, emphasizing the impact of your relationships. For instance, lying to a character you're romancing will carry more weight. However, I'm carefully considering how to balance this to respect player agency, recognizing that not everyone may want their character to feel guilty in such situations. Your feedback on this would be appreciated before I start making final decisions — edit: you are welcome to comment on this post! (Sorry ;-;)

Skill System Overhaul: The foundation for the new skill system is done and functional in a test environment. However, I'm still evaluating whether its inclusion genuinely enhances gameplay or if it complicates things unnecessarily.

Extensive Coding Overhauls: Overall, I've done so much coding that I couldn't begin to tell you what all I've done. I combined things to both organize and streamline (though this might just effect me overall).

There is more to share, but I want to keep some surprises under wraps for now.

Future Support Update: I am in the process of setting up a Patreon, which I aim to launch next month. Initially, I considered using Ko-Fi for all supporter interactions, but the exclusive access features offered by itch.io make Patreon a better fit for what I want to achieve.

On Patreon, I will be providing a couple tiers. While one offers more than the other, here's a general overview of what I'll be offering: detailed progress updates, sneak peeks, alpha builds, special acknowledgments, early access, among others.

Ko-Fi will remain available for those who prefer to offer one-time support. Your support, whether recurring or one-time, is immensely appreciated and makes a significant difference in the continued development of my projects.

Beta Testing: Given the aspects of Patreon, how I approach beta testing in the future will be different. However, I will continue as I did last time with this one.

This month, I am aiming to begin the beta testing phase for the new Vice System. In light of changes to the test's parameters, previous applications have been cleared. If you're interested in participating, please reapply.

Please note, this test covers a lot of adult content — you must be 18 or older to participate (though really, you should be 18+ if you're even reading my story *finger wagging*). Ensure you are comfortable with explicit content before applying.

Application is found here.

Tumblr Asks: I will be making a separate post soon to address the reopening of Asks. Please be patient with me as I work through a couple of reasons why it was temporarily disabled. I appreciate your understanding and look forward to hearing more from all of you soon!

Closing Thoughts: Sorry again for the lengthy update, but thank you all for your patience as I continue refining and revising. Work on Chapter 3: Part Two is progressing, though there's still more to be done.

Wishing you all a wonderful month ahead!

#within your eyes if #wye progress update #wye general information #interactive fiction #work in progress #progress update #text based game

[fictionadventurer]

Current level of Little House nerd: Internally freaking out because Rose wrote a short story based on their time in Florida which means we have filled in the last remaining major gap in the Ingalls-Wilder family fictional timeline.

#little house #laura ingalls wilder #rose wilder lane #it should be noted that i haven't read the story yet #just flipping past the intro was enough to get me excited #it could be garbage #but their florida sojourn has long been a fascinating trivia bit #and i had no idea it had been so extensive a thing or that rose was old enough to remember it #of course the other major gap is burr oak #but there is a modern book about that #and the little house sampler also seems to have a nonfic piece by laura about that time #which from the title sounds surprisingly positive #given that she refused to include that part of her life in fiction

[mymadmedleyw]

What The Past Holds (135321 words) by AllisonNoir Chapters: 19/21 Fandom: Danny Phantom Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Dan Phantom, Jazz Fenton, Danny Fenton, Vlad Masters, Clockwork (Danny Phantom) Additional Tags: Post-Episode: s02e08-09 The Ultimate Enemy, Ghost Biology (Danny Phantom), Ghost Cores (Danny Phantom), Time Travel, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, POV Multiple, Dan Phantom Redemption, Episode: s02e08-09 The Ultimate Enemy, There Is A Reason Why Dan is 'Dan', TUE!Vlad, Rewritten Time, Ghost Hybrids, Heart AU, Panic Attacks Series: Part 1 of What The Past Holds Summary:

“I don’t come here for trouble,” Dan explained, and as he calculated, that was the main thing that she had to be aware of for their own good. “Jazz, I…” why the words were so heavy to say aloud? He took a deep breath and spilled it.“ I came here for help.” Yeah, in this way, it would be better, he realized. First, getting Jazz, and by winning over Jazz’s trust getting to his younger version: Danny.

Not much after escaping from the Thermos that imprisoned him, he faces a situation that he can't solve on his own. Things soon are starting to get complicated as he, in the meantime, has to deal with something that he thought he had lost a long time ago.

NOTE (2022 May): I've begun to edit the chapters (here and there it is seriously needed), when I'll be done with one, I'll note it with 'edited' and write it here, thanks for understanding :)

Edited chapters so far: Chp1-8, rest is on the way... (2022 August)

#danny phantom #dan phantom #dark danny #tue #the ultimate enemy #wtph #hey bit of self-share because I need a vast motivation to work further on the editing #and sharing the process I reached so far is a strict sign that I should continue it #because everyone will know I'm at a point so then I should keep going with it to finish it in the near future #the first eight chapters are edited (from chp1 to chp8) since I've written them back then #you can read further if you want but I'll warn you the flow of the sentences might be rough #I'm working on editing all of them slowly - thanks for understanding #also a reminder soon on FF this story will cease to exist so I recommend ao3 #and note: 'Bits Of The Past' contains 'deleted' and additional scenes for this story #I haven't had the opportunity yet so far to edit them but soon it will happen too #also I modified the tags I think those now make more sense #(editing chp9 will be finished very soon... I mean as today)

[burntoutdaydreamer]

Things That May Be Causing Your Writer's Block- and How to Beat Them

I don't like the term 'Writer's Block' - not because it isn't real, but because the term is so vague that it's useless. Hundreds of issues all get lumped together under this one umbrella, making writer's block seem like this all-powerful boogeyman that's impossible to beat. Worse yet, it leaves people giving and receiving advice that is completely ineffective because people often don't realize they're talking about entirely different issues.

In my experience, the key to beating writer's block is figuring out what the block even is, so I put together a list of Actual Reasons why you may be struggling to write:

(note that any case of writer's block is usually a mix of two or more)

Perfectionism (most common)

What it looks like:

You write one sentence and spend the next hour googling "synonyms for ___"

Write. Erase. Write. Rewrite. Erase.

Should I even start writing this scene when I haven't figured out this one specific detail yet?

I hate everything I write

Cringing while writing

My first draft must be perfect, or else I'm a terrible writer

Things that can help:

Give yourself permission to suck

Keep in mind that nothing you write is going to be perfect, especially your first draft

Think of writing your first/early drafts not as writing, but sketching out a loose foundation to build upon later

People write multiple drafts for a reason: write now, edit later

Stop googling synonyms and save that for editing

Write with a pen to reduce temptation to erase

Embrace leaving blank spaces in your writing when you can't think of the right word, name, or detail

It's okay if your writing sucks. We all suck at some point. Embrace the growth mindset, and focus on getting words on a page

Lack of inspiration (easiest to fix)

What it looks like:

Head empty, no ideas

What do I even write about???

I don't have a plot, I just have an image

Want to write but no story to write

Things that can help:

Google writing prompts

If writing prompts aren't your thing, instead try thinking about what kind of tropes/genres/story elements you would like to try out

Instead of thinking about the story you would like to write, think about the story you would like to read, and write that

It's okay if you don't have a fully fleshed out story idea. Even if it's just an image or a line of dialogue, it's okay to write that. A story may or may not come out of it, but at least you got the creative juices flowing

Stop writing. Step away from your desk and let yourself naturally get inspired. Go for a walk, read a book, travel, play video games, research history, etc. Don't force ideas, but do open up your mind to them

If you're like me, world-building may come more naturally than plotting. Design the world first and let the story come later

Boredom/Understimulation (lost the flow)

What it looks like:

I know I should be writing but uugggghhhh I just can'tttttt

Writing words feels like pulling teeth

I started writing, but then I got bored/distracted

I enjoy the idea of writing, but the actual process makes me want to throw my laptop out the window

Things that can help:

Introduce stimulation: snacks, beverages, gum, music such as lo-fi, blankets, decorate your writing space, get a clickity-clackity keyboard, etc.

Add variety: write in a new location, try a new idea/different story for a day or so, switch up how you write (pen and paper vs. computer) or try voice recording or speech-to-text

Gamify writing: create an arbitrary challenge, such as trying to see how many words you can write in a set time and try to beat your high score

Find a writing buddy or join a writer's group

Give yourself a reward for every writing milestone, even if it's just writing a paragraph

Ask yourself whether this project you're working on is something you really want to be doing, and be honest with your answer

Intimidation/Procrastination (often related to perfectionism, but not always)

What it looks like:

I was feeling really motivated to write, but then I opened my laptop

I don't even know where to start

I love writing, but I can never seem to get started

I'll write tomorrow. I mean next week. Next month? Next month, I swear (doesn't write next month)

Can't find the time or energy

Unreasonable expectations (I should be able to write 10,000 words a day, right????)

Feeling discouraged and wondering why I'm even trying

Things that can help:

Follow the 2 min rule (or the 1 paragraph rule, which works better for me): whenever you sit down to write, tell yourself that you are only going to write for 2 minutes. If you feel like continuing once the 2 mins are up, go for it! Otherwise, stop. Force yourself to start but DO NOT force yourself to continue unless you feel like it. The more often you do this, the easier it will be to get started

Make getting started as easy as possible (i.e. minimize barriers: if getting up to get a notebook is stopping you from getting started, then write in the notes app of your phone)

Commit to a routine that will work for you. Baby steps are important here. Go with something that feels reasonable: every day, every other day, once a week, twice a week, and use cues to help you remember to start. If you chose a set time to write, just make sure that it's a time that feels natural to you- i.e. don't force yourself to writing at 9am every morning if you're not a morning person

Find a friend or a writing buddy you can trust and talk it out or share a piece of work you're proud of. Sometimes we just get a bit bogged down by criticism- either internal or external- and need a few words of encouragement

The Problem's Not You, It's Your Story (or Outline (or Process))

What it looks like:

I have no problems writing other scenes, it's just this scene

I started writing, but now I have no idea where I'm going

I don't think I'm doing this right

What's an outline?

Drowning in documents

This. Doesn't. Make. Sense. How do I get from this plot point to this one?!?!?! (this ColeyDoesThings quote lives in my head rent free cause BOY have I been there)

Things That Can Help:

Go back to the drawing board. Really try to get at the root of why a scene or story isn't working

A part of growing as a writer is learning when to kill your darlings. Sometimes you're trying to force an idea or scene that just doesn't work and you need to let it go

If you don't have an outline, write one

If you have an outline and it isn't working, rewrite it, or look up different ways to structure it

You may be trying to write as a pantser when you're really a plotter or vice versa. Experiment with different writing processes and see what feels most natural

Study story structures, starting with the three act structure. Even if you don't use them, you should know them

Check out Ellen Brock on YouTube. She's a professional novel editor who has a lot of advice on writing strategies for different types of writers

Also check out Savage Books on YouTube (another professional story editor) for advice on story structure and dialogue. Seriously, I cannot recommend this guy enough

Executive Dysfunction, Usually From ADHD/Autism

What it looks like:

Everything in boredom/understimulation

Everything in intimidation/procrastination

You have been diagnosed with and/or have symptoms of ADHD/Autism

Things that can help:

If you haven't already, seek a diagnosis or professional treatment

Hire an ADHD coach or other specialist that can help you work with your brain (I use Shimmer; feel free to DM me for a referral)

Seek out neurodiverse communities for advice and support

Try body doubling! There's lot's of free online body doubling websites out there for you to try. If social anxiety is a barrier, start out with writing streams such as katecavanaughwrites on Twitch

Be aware of any sensory barriers that may be getting in the way of you writing (such as an uncomfortable desk chair, harsh lighting, bad sounds)

And Lastly, Burnout, Depression, or Other Mental Illness

What it looks like:

You have symptoms of burnout or depression

Struggling with all things, not just writing

It's more than a lack of inspiration- the spark is just dead

Things that can help:

Forget writing for now. Focus on healing first.

Seek professional help

If you feel like it, use writing as a way to explore your feelings. It can take the form of journaling, poetry, an abstract reflection of your thoughts, narrative essays, or exploring what you're feeling through your fictional characters. The last two helped me rediscover my love of writing after I thought years of depression had killed it for good. Just don't force yourself to do so, and stop if it takes you to a darker place instead of feeling cathartic

#writing #creative writing #writer problems #writing advice #writing community #writing a book #writing problems #novel writing #on writing #writing tips #writing help #writers on tumblr #writers block #female writers #writers of tumblr #writers blog #adhd writer

[addledmongoose]

Best of 2023 Good Omens Fanfiction

This is my list of the 20 best Good Omens fanfiction works I've read in 2023.

A few notes:

These are all complete works; there are no WIPs in the list.

Please feel free to let me know if a link stops working

It's not an ordered list. That would be far too difficult.

You'll probably recognize some of the most popular ones. They're popular for a reason, after all, but I hope you find something you haven't yet read.

The majority are full-length works, but there are definitely some shorter pieces.

These are certainly not the only good works I've read, but they are the ones I'm most likely to read more than once

Click the Keep Reading to see the list

If you're the author of one of these, first off, thank you! But second, if you want me to add your tumblr name to your story, let me know, and I'll edit.

This first section, all the stories are canon-compliant or canon-adjacent. In other words, it's at least somewhat set in the Good Omens universe.

a lighthouse (burning) (108K; Rated M)

This one is canon-adjacent and set in the 19th century. Aziraphale goes to a lighthouse to figure out where all the lighthouse keepers disappeared to, and Crowley follows along. This one is a bit of a spooky mystery along with the romance, and the writing style is simply beautiful. You really get a sense of being trapped in this lighthouse in the middle of nowhere.

***

The Grindr Logo Doesn't Even Have a 'G' In It (79K; Rated E)

It's honestly hard to remember that this one isn't human AU, but they're still just as angelic/demonic as ever. Aziraphale joins Grindr and starts texting (and then sexting) with a charming young man. It's no secret to the reader who this new hookup is. This story is genuinely funny at times. I like the funny ones.

***

The Whole Damned World Seemed Upside Down (103K; Rated M)

This is one of the best reverse omens stories I've read that isn't technically a reverse omens. Crowley wishes things were different after leaving the bookshop, and the universe gives him his wish. He finds himself in a world where Aziraphale hates him, Death has trouble taking lives, and basically everything you knew about the world of Good Omens is upside down. It's very funny. It uses inline footnotes (which is good, because it has a LOT of footnotes), and Death is hilarious.

***

it's a new craze (5K; Rated T)

Another one that seems like it should be human AU but isn't. Crowley and Aziraphale start up a podcast after the Notpocalypse and gain a loyal fanbase who can't figure out if they're a couple or not. They often forget who their audience is and often reference events in their shared history that make no sense to the humans listening.

***

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a demon in possession of a mobile phone, must be in want of attention (6K; Rated G)

And yes, that is the entire title. Another funny short story where a couple of podcast hosts receive a call from a certain angel whose demon trapped himself in his phone and won't leave.

***

In Mixed Company, or the Corporate Retreat of Heaven and Hell (52K; Rated M)

I've read this one at least three times, and it's probably my favorite of all. Every 300 years, Heaven and Hell share a company retreat on Earth during which angels and demons surrender their celestial powers and hold retreats. It has a great new angel friend of Aziraphale's; Hellish Powerpoint presentations; Gabriel being annoyingly chipper; and Aziraphale and Crowley sneaking around like teenagers trying to find some alone time.

***

How To Woo A Demon (24K; Rated T)

Aziraphale researches demonic courtship rituals and starts implementing them in order to convince Crowley he wants to take their relationship to the next level. Crowley is very confused by Aziraphale's actions. Another cute, funny one.

***

Factory Settings (107K; Rated T)

This one is famous for coming out practically as S2 dropped, making people think whoever wrote it (the author is anonymous) had something to do with the production of the show.

This is the only one I'm going to say anything negative about. There are a lot of spelling errors and typos in it. It needs a hard editing pass. Despite that complaint, I devoured this story as fast as I could scroll. It's that good, and even knowing all the errors are there, I'll probably still re-read it. I'm usually pretty picky about errors like that, so for me to overlook it and even recommend it, means I really liked it.

Crowley gets reinstated as the angel, Raphael, with no memory of his time as Crowley, and Aziraphale struggles to return him to his demonic self. It's heart-breaking and wonderful and I absolutely loved it.

***

One Night In Bangor (And the World's Your Oyster) (17K: Rated E)

Much like In Mixed Company, Heaven and Hell come together for a corporate retreat on Earth. In this one, some totally random demon who's name definitely doesn't rhyme with Bowley created a wager in Hell to see which demon could bed an angel first.

Another funny one. This time, a lot of the humor comes from the demons doing their best to pick up the angels with really bad pickup lines.

***

We Only Said Goodbye with Words, I Died A Hundred Times (9K; Rated E)

If I could learn to write even half as good as this, I'd be ecstatic. The emotions the author packs into this story are mind-blowing.

Crowley receives a cursed amulet that creates an ever-increasing need for the person he wants the most and goes to see Aziraphale.

***

To reveal my heart in ink (29K; Rated E)

Aziraphale starts writing letters to Crowley by mail. The letters they exchange slowly get more and more explicit.

***

Pray For Us, Icarus (66K; Rated G/T)

The author wrote this one as a series, so each one varies in chapter count and rating, but they tell a single, contiguous story.

This was the first long-form GO fanfiction I read, and it was way too close to the ending of S2. I really should've waited a while, because holy cow, is this one heartbreaking.

For three hundred years, Crowley has been reincarnated over and over as a human with no memory of his past. Aziraphale has spent those three hundred years trying to restore him to his true self.

The author, Atalan, is probably one of the best writers on the site. This story is stunning in the quality of its writing, in the pacing of the story, and in the emotions evoked. I normally don't like being sad (like I said, I like the funny ones), but I've saved this story off to make sure I always have it.

***

Pretend For Me (53K; Rated E)

In a panic, Aziraphale tells the archangels that he survived hellfire due to his soul mixing with Crowley's because they're in a romantic and sexual relationship, but now they want them to prove it.

I'm a sucker for fake relationship stories, and there aren't a whole lot of them where the characters are still angel/demon, but this one is. It's another fun one, though a bit more angsty than some of those I listed above.

***

The following are all human AU. Good chance you'll recognize all or most of these.

Married At First Sight (147K; Rated T)

One of the most recently completed stories in the list, this is a fake relationship story where Aziraphale and Crowley join a reality show that marries complete strangers off to each other. Their new marriage starts off on a less than idyllic foot and they decide to fake it for the show. The author is a master of making you want to scream "for fuck's sake, just talk to each other, you walnuts!"

Probably one of my favorite fake relationship stories.

***

Postcards From Paris (12K; Rated G)

The author, ghostrat (@mrghostrat), is a fantastic writer of human AU, and it's worth going through his entire backlist (and read his current WIPs, too).

Crowley moves into his Mayfair flat and starts receiving postcards addressed to the previous tenant from one A.Z.F., who is in Europe hunting for bizarre bibles and rating wine. Sweet and fluffy and the perfect antidote if you've just been on an angst binge.

***

Or Be Nice (151K; Rated E)

I stayed up until 6:30 in the morning reading this one, crashed for three hours, then read until I finished it. Then that night, I started it again.

This is, without hesitation, my all-time favorite human AU. It's funny. I love the author's version of the characters, and I will probably end up reading it again in just a few months. I probably already would have if it wasn't for the length of my Mark For Later and Subscription lists.

Crowley and Aziraphale are neighbors who get into a noise war. They both have their reasons for their actions, though to be honest, Crowley is a bit of an ass at first. Once they really start talking, though, they are absolutely wonderful together.

Even if you've never read a human AU, I recommend at least giving this one a try.

***

What We Make Of It (Shotgun Wedding) (213K; Rated E)

This is the third charlottemadison work on this list. 15% of this list is just this one author. That's how good they are.

Aziraphale works as an English teacher. Crowley is the guardian for his nephew, Adam, and works for a school testing company. Crowley can't risk his job dating his nephew's gorgeous and charming teacher. Unless...

Crowley comes up with a crazy plan. Now he just has to convince Aziraphale to go along with it.

Again, another very popular human AU. One thing I love about this story is how there's a lot less angst between the two characters, and how they both really care for Adam.

***

Slow Show (95K; Rated E)

The very first human AU I read. Didn't even think I'd like that specific genre until I read it. Now, as you can see, it's about half of my reading list.

This is an actor AU. Aziraphale (named Avery here) and Crowley are actors working together on a new show. Avery is an award-winning, straight-laced, well-respected actor; Crowley is a mess who immediately falls head-over-heels for him and somehow has to get through the show without letting his (apparently straight) costar realize that.

***

South Downs (76K; Rated E)

Another actor AU. This time, Aziraphale is an openly-gay actor, well-respected for his period drama work. Crowley is a once-blackballed actor who jumps at the chance to star in a gay Regency romance with Aziraphale in the hopes it can restart his career. The trouble is, Crowley is struggling to play the romantic lead opposite a man.

I love the growing friendship between these two as much as the romance. I love how comfortable and confident Aziraphale is here; and how caring he is toward Crowley's growing awareness of his sexuality.

***

This one doesn't really fit either category, so I'm putting it here.

The Rose and the Serpent (56K; Rated M)

By the same author as Pray For Us, Icarus comes a GO retelling of Beauty and the Beast. Aziraphale is sent off by his older brother, Gabriel, into the forest to be held hostage by a giant snake in a cursed castle. Turns out, neither the snake nor the castle are what he was expecting.

Light-hearted and with very memorable characters, the relationship between Crowley and Aziraphale is simply stunning. I love how Newt and Anathema are used here. The quality of this one is as good as Icarus, and I loved this one so much I could easily have read 300K more words.

***

And bonus: mine!

The Beginning of the End (Again) (79K; Rated M)

The first fanfiction I've ever written and the first book I've written in a decade. I had the first two chapters in mind after finishing S2, and the story grew from there. I actually have a sequel in mind after I finish another, separate fake relationship story.

Crowley spends months drowning his sorrows after Aziraphale accepts the Supreme Archangel position, until a group of demons shows up one day and tells him the Second Coming is nearly upon them, and they want him to stop it. Turns out being a demon isn't much fun if there are no humans left to tempt.

Aziraphale has spent these last months in Heaven looking for ways to stop the Second Coming while mourning the way he and Crowley left things. After discovering that Hell's minions have been tasked by the Metatron to escort the son of God on a tour of Earth in preparation for his Second Coming, he hurries down to see what's going on, fearing the worst.

Instead he discovers Crowley escorting the Messiah around Earth. Is his demon taking the son of God on dates?

#good omens fanfiction

[suuuupernovaaa]

nìfnu

nìfnu [nɪ.ˈfnu] adv. silently

Anonymous Request: Can I have a story where it’s Ao’nung x Metkayina Reader who’s deaf and a sweetheart. When the Sullys arrive she doesn’t really interact with them so when they see Ao’nung being kind and protective towards her it they feel confused? Just pure fluff.

Lo'ak leans over and nudges his older sister, Kiri, forcefully on the arm.

"Ouch!" she yelps. "What, Lo'ak?"

He points, and she follows the line from his finger. It leads her eyes to Ao'nung, just a few paces down the beach from them, and he's with a Metkayina girl that Kiri doesn't recognize. She's tall, nearly as tall as Ao'nung, with her long hair pulled back into one large, thick braid. She wears a thin, shiny net over her shoulders, and Kiri notes how pretty it is. It glimmers in the sun. Kiri also notes how, even though Ao'nung and this girl are above walker, they are using the hand-speak to communicate.

"That girl. Neteyam tried to talk to her earlier, but she ignored him. And there she is, being so nice to Ao'nung. Who's an asshole."

Kiri elbows her sibling. "To you, he is. He looks like he's being perfectly friendly to that girl. And, I mean, she's very pretty."

"Why are they using the hand speak? They're not in the water."

Kiri shrugs. "How should I know? Stop elbowing me when you want something, Lo'ak. It hurts."

He groans and rolls his eyes, and turns his attention back to Ao'nung and the girl who rejected Neteyam.

--

"How are they adjusting?" I sign to Ao'nung, who shrugs and rolls his eyes. It's no secret that he resents having to teach the newcomers their ways, but I think it's nice. Ao'nung needs to humble himself sometimes, be more like his kind little sister.

"They are slow," Ao'nung signs in return. "I don't want to teach them. It's a waste of my time."

I reach out, pushing on his arm a little. "They seem sweet to me, especially the little one. Try to have patience with them. I would offer to help, but they don't know how to talk to me."

"Yet," he replies, and I smile.

"Yet."

--

Neteyam asks Tsireya about the girl, Y/N, the next day. He's noticed that she only uses hand-speak as well, and wonders.

"She can't hear," Tsireya says. "She's only spoken that way her whole life."

Neteyam could smack himself. He'd taken her silence as harsh rejection, when really, she just wasn't able to respond to him.

"Oh!" he exclaims. "She's, uh, really beautiful."

Tsireya laughs and smiles. "She is, but I wouldn't trouble yourself. Ao'nung has been in love with her for years." She throws a glance to her brother over her shoulder, but he's too busy making fun of Lo'ak to hear.

"Ao'nung?" Neteyam replies hardly, and Tsireya laughs even harder.

"I know. He has a soft spot for her, and her for him. If you want to compete, you'll have to learn hand-speak."

Neteyam shakes his head. She's beautiful, but not worth getting in a fight with the chief's son over. He'll just have to admire her from afar.

--

Though I can't speak, I am very proficient in reading lips. This helps me observe conversations from far away; as long as I have a clear view of someone's face, I can usually figure out what they're saying.

"Ao'nung has been in love with her for years."

That's what Tsireya said, and though she was smiling, it didn't seem as if she was joking. I dropped the plate of fruit I was carrying when she said it.

Is it true? Has Ao'nung been in love with me, and I haven't noticed?

Fruit is scattered all around my feet, and I bend over to begin gathering it again, every interaction I've had with Ao'nung recently playing over in my mind. If Tsireya is right, maybe I have been blind.

Ao'nung has always been kind, and patient and gentle with me. I knew he wasn't like that with many people, but I thought it was most likely out of pity for my condition - not out of love of affection.

A hand reaches out, picking up fruit and dropping it into my basket, and I look up to see Ao'nung himself.

Feeling flustered, I stand up, kicking the fruit basket once again, undoing all my work.

"Are you okay?" Ao'nung signs. I tuck my hair behind my ears, feeling a little speechless. "Y/N, what's wrong?"

"Tsireya," I sign, "she told the new boy, the oldest one, that you are in love with me. Is she just teasing him, because he thinks I'm pretty?"

"He said he thinks you're pretty?" Ao'nung signs back, quickly and furiously, glancing over his shoulder at where his sister still sits with the newcomers.

I shove his shoulder. "Yes! Answer my question."

"Well... come with me." Ao'nung reaches out, grabbing my hand and therefore silencing me, and pulls me away from the beach. We move through many huts, past the fires, and to the edge of the beach, where the sparse forest and rocks begin. Here, we are alone.

"Ao'nung!" I exclaim, breathless. "What's going on?"

He rubs his forehead. "I had a plan, to tell you. It wasn't going to be like this. I'm going to kill Tsireya."

I stand, silent, waiting for him to finish. My heart is beating out of my chest, and my palms are shaking; I'm not sure I could speak, even if I wanted to.

"For a long time, I have loved you, Y/N. I have tried to be more... understanding, and gentle, the way you deserve. But it's hard for me. I wanted to be better, before I told you. Before I asked you to be my mate."

Unable to control myself, I gasp, and bring my hands up to my mouth.

Me, the mate to the next Olo'eyktan? It's unimaginable.

"Your parents approve the match?" I ask.

Ao'nung smiles at me softly. "Of course. When I told them how much I love you, they couldn't object. They believe you will make a wonderful Tsahik, because you are so kind and understanding. My mother will teach you everything you need to know - if you want."

That thought alone is a little overwhelming, since Ronal can be so intimidating, but I also imagine she can be a good teacher.

And really, that doesn't matter. What matters is the way I feel when I'm with Ao'nung; special, adored, loved, doted upon. I feel safe with Ao'nung. I feel seen and most importantly, heard.

"I would be proud to be your mate, Ao'nung. So proud. Of course, I love you."

The smile that spreads across his face transforms Ao'nung from the sullen, anxious, grouchy man most have come to know him as. It turns him into the carefree, light and happy man he is when the two of us are together.

I am proud to make him smile like that. I promise myself then, to make him smile like that every day, for the rest of our lives.

#ao'nung #ao'nung x reader #ao'nung fic #aonung x reader #aonung fic

[andvys]

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter seven ⭐︎ Got a feeling your electric touch, could fill this ghost town up with life

Warnings: 18+, minors don't interact. mentions of sex, mentions of unrequited feelings, sexual tension, reader teasing Steve sexually, not giving away anything else

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: After you and Steve cross a line, you are the one to take things to a whole new level — driving Steve insane with your never ending teasing.

Word count: 7.4k+

Author’s note: I know you keep yelling at me but anyways -- shoutout to @hellfire--cult for helping me with this, especially the uh last part hehe.

Also, @prettyboyeddiemunson talked about a little crossover thing, and I love her girl in gods & monsters so she's making a little appearance here for Eddie hehe, all credits go to my bestie of course, the character belongs to her! If you haven't read the story yet, go check it out, it's one of my faves!

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter

♡

Staring up at the ceiling, Steve sinks deeper into his pillows, finding more comfort in his bed than usual, he takes a deep breath as he runs his hand over his face. He should feel content, knowing that he’s got the day off but instead he feels tense and frustrated in a way he had never felt before. 

His mind could be anywhere right now, he could think about the new tapes he stacked up at work last night, he could think about the show he watched before he went to bed, he could think about the mixtape Eddie had made for him, he could think about the girl that so obviously tried to flirt with him at work the other day, his mind could take him to any place, his imagination could be limitless but no, his mind is somewhere it shouldn’t be, his mind is with you. 

Nothing he does, nothing he tries to think about can drag his thoughts away from you. You occupy every space of his mind, reminding him of how much control you had taken over him ever since you both crossed a line that changed things between you both. 

Steve may have been the one who started it at all, but you are the one who took the game to a whole new level. 

The little accident in his kitchen that happened weeks ago, was only the start of it all. 

Steve wasn’t exactly subtle when he kept checking you out before the fiasco with the broken lever, and he wasn’t subtle with his touches either. He was treading on thin ice, he knew that, he knew that his slight teasing could have easily backfired if you reacted differently but it didn’t, and your reactions were everything that he was hoping for. You grew flustered, you started blushing, you stuttered and you looked at him the way he was hoping you would. 

But, what he didn’t expect was for you to tease him back, especially in a way that had him blushing, stuttering, and staring at you in shock. 

You were so innocent and shy at first, doing everything as subtly as possible. It started with gentle touches on his arm or his hand, soft whispers during dinner whenever he sat beside you, or long eye contact. Then, you realized just how much power you had over him and things quickly developed into something more, something so much deeper.

Your teasing was no longer innocent and your shyness seemed to have slipped away more and more, little by little. 

The look in your eyes was no longer a shy one whenever you looked at each other. There was a fire behind your eyes that he had never seen before. The smirk that tugged at your lips wasn’t the same one you usually looked at him with, it was different, mischievous, and very suggestive – a little too suggestive for someone like you because if someone else had looked at him the way you do, he’d think that they’re flirting but you don’t do that and certainly not with him. 

The only explanation for your behavior is that you are teasing him, playing with him just the way he did with you but not because you want him. He started something that night when Hopper and Joyce announced their engagement. It was harmless at first, his teasing was light and playful, he loved to see those sweet reactions of yours but Steve didn’t know that it was a dangerous game that he had started, he didn’t know that he’d be playing with fire the moment he’d touch you. 

Because you are far from harmless, and your teasing is not light and playful in the slightest. If it was, he wouldn’t be feeling like this right now; frustrated, agitated and filled with pent up emotions that he can’t even make out in his own head. 

He closes his eyes again as a groan falls from his lips, he shakes his head at himself, cursing inwardly for thinking about no one other than you. 

Has it always been that way? 

Have you always been on his mind? 

Or is it something new?

An unspoken deal was made between the both of you when you two started this. There are no rules, just a winner and a loser – whoever breaks first loses and so far, it seems like Steve won’t even get close to winning, even though he was the one to start it all so confidently. 

You clearly have taken over, because the moment you looked at him with innocent big eyes and a pout on your lips while pressing your chest against his arm when you tried to squeeze past him, your boobs nearly spilling over your cute little top, your voice sounding raspy from all the weed you had smoked that night, he was done for. 

It wasn’t the first time that a girl had done something like this to him, plenty of girls have given him those innocent eyes, have pressed their boobs against him, in much less clothing… but something about you drives him especially crazy. Maybe it’s the fact that you both hate or dislike each other or maybe it’s the fact that he is just extremely frustrated – sexually frustrated. Maybe that is the only reason why you get to him in that way… why he feels the want to continue this little game or why he feels the intense need to fuck you and get you out of his mind, once and for all. 

Another groan falls from his lips when he remembers that Robin bailed on him after she called him in the middle of the night, telling him that she wouldn’t make it to lunch today, meaning that it will be just Eddie, you and him. 

A part of him even looks forward to seeing you, the other part doesn’t because he already knows how he will feel afterwards, while you will probably go home feeling satisfied after teasing the hell out of him. 

Every time before you leave, you look at him as though you had done nothing wrong, which sometimes leads him to believe that you’re not even aware of all the teasing you torture him with and that he was the only one playing this game, all this time. 

Steve drags himself out of bed and into the bathroom, turning on the shower so the water can heat up while he brushes his teeth. He looks at his reflection in the mirror, rolling his eyes at the mess on his head, he brings his hand up to his hair, running his fingers through it. 

As he thinks about what to wear, he gets lost in his thoughts, thinking about you, wondering what you will wear. Are you going to wear a dress? Another short skirt to drive him crazy with? 

He rolls his eyes, cursing inwardly at himself for thinking about you again. 

He needs to get this out of his system. 

He needs to get you out of his system. 

And there is only one way to do it and he knows it, but he’s not even sure where your feelings stand, if you’d be down for what he’s longing for or if you’d laugh in his face if he even tried to suggest something like it. – Your reaction would probably be the latter, and just the thought of it is enough to bring the grumpiness out in him. 

He begrudgingly starts getting ready, all while his mind keeps him occupied with thoughts about you. 

He doesn’t know what caused all of this, he doesn’t know how it happened, how his mind is incapable of thinking about anything or anyone but you these days. 

He feels as though he had been cursed. You are haunting him, in his mind and even in his dreams, and seeing you all the time doesn't help at all… and yet, he wouldn’t want it any other way because this little thing between you both makes him feel a thrill that has been missing in his life. 

By the time Steve pulls up into the parking lot at the diner, you and Eddie are already there.

You’re sitting on the hood of his car, hands folded in your lap, sunglasses low on your nose, a smile on your lips as you’re nodding along to whatever Eddie is telling you. You look good… too good for just a simple breakfast at the diner. 

He parks the car and after a few deep breaths, he pulls out the keys and gets out, trying not to stare at you as he walks towards the two of you. 

“Hey guys.”

Eddie turns around, a mocking smile on his face, he crosses his arms over his chest, “took you long enough, big boy.”

Steve chuckles, scratching the back of his neck as he eyes you from the side, “yeah uh, I missed my alarm this morning and Robin woke me up in the middle of the night to bail on us, took me a while to fall back asleep after that.” 

You groan at his words, sliding off the car, you smooth down your jean shorts and push your sunglasses up into your hair, “so she keeps ditching us.” 

“She’s in love, Sweetheart,” Eddie winks at you, wiggling his brows, “she’s got better things to do.” 

You roll your eyes at his words and look over Eddie’s shoulder, meeting his eyes for the first time today. You lick your lips as your eyes move down up and down his body. 

“Hey, Lego head.”

Lego head. The silly nickname doesn’t quite suit the look in your eyes. 

“Blondie,” he nods. 

Eddie chuckles, playing with the keys in his hand as he nudges his head into the direction of the diner, “let’s go eat, I’m starving.” 

“You’re always starving, Eddie,” you snort as you are the first to start walking. 

“Yeah man, you’re always eating and you’re still starving,” Steve chuckles, walking beside Eddie, “you’re like a raccoon or something.” 

You look over your shoulder, a smile on your lips, “oh he’s definitely a little raccoon.” 

Eddie’s lips part in surprise, he looks between you both, “did you just… agree on something?” 

You scoff at his words, turning back around without another word while Steve looks down, shaking his head. The weight of Eddie’s arm around his shoulder makes him look back up, though not at you, but at Eddie, whose eyes are filled with amusement. 

“You’re not trying to steal my girl are you?” 

Steve doesn’t know what is about the words ‘my girl’ but he feels himself clenching his jaw and gritting his teeth. By the tone in Eddie’s voice, he should know that he is only teasing, but apparently his mind isn’t able to comprehend that right now. 

He feels a fire in his chest that he can’t even explain, one that only grows even more intense a few moments later, when a guy who was just leaving the diner, steps aside for you after opening the door. 

Steve can’t see your face or the looks you are giving to the man who is staring you up and down with nothing but hunger in his eyes, but by the way you walk past him without even turning your head or looking back, he knows that you’re giving him nothing. And yet, it doesn’t stop his anger when the guy keeps checking you out, shamelessly, following you with his eyes, a smirk tugging at his lips as he looks at your ass. You’re not even aware of it as it seems and it wouldn’t be the first time. 

Steve saw you at Big Buy’s the other day, you were strolling around the aisles in your cute little dress, throwing food items into your basket, completely unaware of his eyes on you. He couldn’t look away from you… even when everything you did was riling him up, whether it was the way you bend down to reach for something on the lowest shelf, the way you touched your hair or the way your dress was moving by your sides as you walked. As he caught himself staring at you, at your effortless beauty, he knew that he couldn’t be the only one – and his suspicions were confirmed, when he looked into the other aisle only to see another guy, not past his 30s staring at you, something that you weren’t aware of in the slightest. He also caught himself rolling his eyes and clenching his fists… but that’s something that he easily ignored. 

Unlike today, he can’t even help it when he passes the guy who can’t seem to tear his eyes away from you with a deathly glare on his features, feeling anger for how shameless and disrespectful his ogling is, it’s disgusting. 

“Perv,” Eddie mumbles under his breath, glaring the same way Steve does. 

The guy doesn’t even spare them a single glance, moving past them after taking another long… too long look at you before he walks out of the diner. 

Steve and Eddie roll their eyes, following you to the table that you have already picked, completely unaware of what just happened. 

You sit down in the booth, sliding over to the window. You put your sunglasses down on the table and instantly reach for the menu. 

Eddie sits down beside you, while Steve takes the seat across from you. He tries not to look at you, sinking deeper into the leather seats as he reaches for the menu, as well. 

“What are you guys doing afterwards?” Eddie asks. 

“Nothing, just gonna go back home and watch movies or something,” Steve mumbles, peeking over his menu and at you, to find you looking at him already. 

“Perfect, why don’t you two have a little bonding moment and have a movie day together?” Eddie grins, wiggling his brows at the both of you. 

Steve sees the way you scrunch your nose up at his words, scoffing and shaking your head at him like it’s the most ridiculous thing that you have ever heard, like it’s something that you don’t even want to think about. 

“We’re getting along just fine, no need for bonding time.” 

Right. Steve had been so focused on all your teasing, he almost forgot about how much you two are supposed to dislike each other. 

“Exactly,” Steve winks at Eddie, “Blondie and I are doing just fine.”

He looks back at you, his eyes meet yours, you raise your brows at him, smirking as you tilt your head. 

“Are we?” You ask softly as you blink at him. 

Steve leans closer, licking his lips, he opens his mouth to speak but Eddie cuts him off, clapping his hands. 

“Yeah, you are getting along! Now shut your mouths before you start a fight.”

You both snort at the metalhead, leaning back in your seats, neither of you saying a word, you both just look back at your menu’s, focusing on that… for now. 

The busy waitress stops by your table, telling you that she will be back to take your order in a minute, seemingly catching Eddie off guard after placing her hand on his shoulder before she scurries away again. 

He no longer looks at the menu, he finds something more interesting to look at. 

Steve’s eyes flash with amusement as he looks over at his friend, whose eyes are wide and cheeks are red, an awestruck expression all over his face. He can’t help but nudge your foot under the table, tilting his head towards Eddie when you look up with a frown.

You turn to your best friend. Your features soften, eyes flashing with surprise, you bump your shoulder into his, clearing your throat, “hey Ed’s, before you fuck this up again, don’t you want to tell Lego head about what happened?” You ask, snickering. 

Eddie blinks, turning back to you, “h-huh?” 

“You have a man to give you his opinion of what you did wrong.” 

Steve furrows his brows, looking between your amused face and his confused one, when Eddie’s eyes flash with realization and he groans in annoyance. 

“Sweetheart, he’s gonna be on my side.”

“What opinion?” Steve asks. 

You turn back to your menu, scoffing at Eddie and rolling your eyes before you glance at him, “you’ll want to kill him.”

Eddie groans, shaking his head, his curls bouncing a little. 

“You’ll understand, Harrington. You’re a man. She is… looking at it from a feminine side of things.”

Steve gives you a quizzical look, almost laughing at the exasperated look on your face. 

“Alright shoot,” he says to his friend.

Eddie presses his lips together, taking a deep breath before he folds his hand on the table and looks at him with squinted eyes, “okay so, I saw this girl at the hideout yesterday, Jeff told me to go talk to her, you know… so I did. We started talking, she was funny and all that, and you know, I always like to be a little mysterious.” 

You snort, making Eddie roll his eyes again, “shut it, Sweetheart.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Anyways,” Eddie sighs, glaring at you, “so, when she asked me if I was there with a girl, I just said ‘wouldn’t you like to know?’” 

Steve draws back a little, raising his brows and pursing his lips, looking perplexed. 

“Uh huh..” You murmur, keeping your eyes on Steve. 

“Eddie,” Steve shakes his head, “just uh… did it… what happened then?”

Eddie sighs again, “well, she rolled her eyes and left, but you know, she may not have a sense of humor so… it’s whatever.” 

“Munson, that girl had a sense of humor, you just have a lack of fucking tact,” Steve says, shaking his head at his friend, in pure disbelief. 

Eddie’s jaw drops at his words, while a laugh falls from your lips as you turn to look at your best friend with nothing but satisfaction on your face. 

“Told you.”

“Seriously!?” Eddie gasps, frowning. “Harrington, you were always mean to girls in the past, and you still slept with them!” 

Steve scoffs, shaking his head. 

“That was in high school, Munson! You are a grown up now, why the hell would you do that? Just tell her you were there alone or with friends!” 

Eddie’s jaw drops again, he slumps back in his seat, throwing his hands up. 

“I just thought that a mysterious persona would work better than… you know… bubbly, happy, go lucky guy, desperate to get his dick wet persona…” He whines, “no one wants to fuck me.” 

You giggle, hiding your face behind the menu. 

Steve’s lips curl into a smile, he points a finger at you, “I’m gonna have to agree with Blondie, again, you’re a fucking idiot.” 

“Don’t worry, Eds. I’ll help you,” you say, smiling, “I’ll teach you how to flirt.” 

“How are you gonna do that, Blondie? Do you even know how to flirt?” Steve snorts. 

You may be a tease, a good one at that, but a flirt? No. You’re too rough, too mean, too harsh to be a flirtatious person, you can barely hold a conversation with someone without going off at them about something, you wouldn’t even know where to begin with, unlike him. 

He is a flirty person, he has charm, he knows how to wrap a girl around his finger with just a few simple words. 

He doesn’t know what to expect, but he surely didn’t expect for you to smile at him, to shrug and give him nothing more than a glance that tells him how wrong he is. 

After the waitress comes back to take your order, leaving Eddie a blushing mess, you excuse yourself to the bathroom, only to come back with your hair now free from the scrunchie that kept it together and another coat of gloss on your lips, something that instantly catches Steve’s eyes. 

You place your elbows on the table, putting your chin into your palm, blinking at him innocently. 

The look in your eyes tells him that you’re up to no good, but he can’t look away. He leans closer to the table, licking his lips as he raises his brows at you. Both of you are unaware of Eddie, who is basically drooling over the pretty waitress, too distracted to notice the looks you are giving to each other.

“The waitress, is she from Hawkins? Never seen her in my fucking life,” Eddie murmurs in awe. 

Steve turns his head to look at the woman, a gasp nearly tears from his lips when he feels your foot on his calf and you pull his attention back on you, he stares at you with wide eyes. 

Smirking in satisfaction, you pull your foot back and look down at your nails.

“I-I don’t know, Munson, not familiar.” He stutters without looking away. 

Steve knew that this would happen, that you would tease him in one way or another, but he didn’t know yet, just where you would take this today. 

When your milkshakes arrive at the table, both you and Steve watch Eddie with amusement as he stares up at the blonde waitress, eyes moving back and forth between her face and her chest, not knowing what to look at first. 

His eyes get stuck on the dainty cross necklace around her neck, seemingly growing more intrigued by her, his dark eyes meeting her blue ones. 

Steve narrows his eyes at you, almost laughing when you look at him, at the same time. 

Eddie’s cheeks are even more flushed than before now, his eyes wide, lips parted. The girl presses her lips together, trying not to giggle at the look on his face. 

“Your food will come right up,” she says, looking between you all before her eyes meet Eddie’s again as she takes the last milkshake off the tray, putting it on the table and sliding it towards him. 

He clears his throat, wrapping his fingers around the glass before she can even let go. 

Both you and Steve watch the way she smiles down at Eddie and at the fingers brushing against hers. 

“Thanks, Sweetheart,” he smirks at her, surprising both you and Steve with the confidence in his voice. 

The girl smiles in surprise, before she turns around, walking away from the table but not without giving Eddie another glance, his lips curl into a bigger smirk and he waves his fingers at her.

Your mouth drops and so does Steve’s, both of you, looking at each other again, with stunned and puzzled expressions on your faces.

“Dude,” Steve mumbles, slowly turning to face his friend, “tell me… how did you fuck this up again… at the hideout, I mean?” 

Eddie only looks back when the girl disappears into the kitchen, “the girl at the hideout just wasn’t the right one.”

“Oh, and this one is?” Steve chuckles, pointing his thumb to where the waitress walked off to. 

“Yeah,” Eddie says, dreamily. “She’s so…”

“Hot?” You ask as you reach for your milkshake, grabbing the red and white straw between your thumb and your pointer finger.

“Gorgeous,” he blushes. 

Your lips tug into a smile, you bring your hand up to his face, pinching his cheek, “aw, look at you.” 

He swats your hand away, snorting. 

“I thought you didn’t know how to flirt, you’re doing such a good job, keep it up, Eds.” 

“What can I say, I’m full of surprises,” Eddie winks at you before he looks away, eyes searching for the waitress again. 

“He doesn’t need your help after all,” Steve laughs, tilting his head, “not that you’d be much of a help anyways.” 

You squint your eyes at him, shrugging at his words, and you surprise him with your silence. 

He watches the way you lean forward, placing your elbow on the table as you finally wrap your lips around the straw. Your eyelashes flutter and you tap your red fingernails against the glass, a moan falling from your lips. 

“Mmmh, that’s so good.” 

Steve nearly jumps from his seat, the sound making his stomach flutter, he clenches his fists, staring at you with wide eyes. 

There’s no smirk on your lips, no mischief behind your eyes, nothing but innocence is etched into your features – you’re not even teasing him, it was nothing but a genuine reaction to the sweet drink. And it’s something that frustrates him even more. 

You reach for the maraschino cherry next, popping it into your mouth before you lick the whipped cream off your finger. 

Steve’s breath hitches in his throat, he shifts in his seat, trying to look away from your lips… that are still wrapped around your finger but he can’t, his eyes are stuck, his body is stuck, he can’t move, all that he can do is watch you.

And then, you look towards him, eyes flashing with surprise when you find him staring. He hopes to see you blushing but instead, a smirk tugs at your lips as you release your finger, scooping up some more whipped cream before you bring it up to your lips. 

And this is where the real teasing begins. 

Steve nearly gasps when you hold eye contact this time as you lick the cream off your fingers, letting out another, softer moan. 

Holy fuck. 

Steve’s eyes darken, he swallows harshly, clenching his jaw in anger. 

Eddie is too busy with his own milkshake, ogling the waitress as she talks to customers at the bar, completely unaware of how you both eyefuck each other, the way Steve can’t take his eyes off of you. 

By the look in your eyes, Steve knows how much fun you’re having with this, you know how much it frustrates him, you know what you’re doing to him. 

And as though, all of this wasn’t bad enough already. You then accidentally drop some of the whipped cream on your chest. 

“Oops,” you purr, giving him an innocent look through your lashes. 

The warmth in his chest only grows more intense, spreading across his whole body, filling him up with need and a deep hunger that keeps growing and growing, one that can only be satiated in one way – he needs you, just once, he needs to have you, he needs to taste you, he needs to fuck you, he needs you out of his system for good. 

He had enough of this, of all this teasing. 

He would fuck you right there on this table if he could.

But, despite your teasing, despite the look in your eyes, despite your little act, he is still not sure about where you stand. He knows how you react to his touches, to his teasing, but a part of him fears rejection if he does make a move. 

You are barely even friends, and the thought of making a fool of himself, in front of you, makes him want to crawl into a hole. 

You are both playing this game, but while he knows what he wants, he doesn’t know what you want. 

Maybe you just enjoy this little back and forth, waiting for him to break first before you move along and pretend like nothing ever happened. Maybe you don’t even expect anything to come out of this. Maybe you don’t even want him the way he wants you. Maybe you just like to tease him because you know that it's riling him up. 

So what is left for him to do? 

Stop this game and move on? Or… keep going and wait for something more to happen? 

He’s had enough of your teasing, but he’s far from losing, there is still some power left in him… some. 

He won’t sit here and let you get away with this. 

So despite the uncomfortable strain in his pants, despite the burning in his skin, he plasters a smirk on his blushing face and reaches forward, keeping his eyes locked with yours as he mimics you, he grabs his glass and he reaches for the cherry on his milkshake, purposely dropping some whipped cream on the table as he puts the cherry in his mouth. He chews slowly, licking his finger tips while he watches you slowly, the way your smile slowly falls, the way your eyes widen a little. 

He bites back the smirk as he scoops up the whipped cream off the table, with both his middle finger and ring finger, bringing them up to his lips, he looks back into your wide eyes as he places them into his mouth, watching the way you break eye contact to look at his lips. 

Your throat bobs as you swallow, tightening your grip on your glass as you watch the way he licks his fingers slowly. 

He can see the way you shift in your seat, the way your breathing gets heavier and your eyes darken, the way you lick your lips and how flustered you get as you look back into his eyes. 

You are pressing your thighs together, he just knows you are. 

He pulls his fingers out of his mouth, smirking at you in satisfaction while you still sit there, frozen in place. He breaks eye contact, looking down at his vanilla milkshake as though nothing happened.

“You gotta give this one a ride home, Harrington,” Eddie mumbles, pointing at you without tearing his eyes away from the bar, “I think I’m gonna stay here a little longer.”

You clear your throat. 

Steve expects you to be more… nervous, to hear your voice wavering, but instead, it sounds confident, filled with yet more teasing as you open your mouth to speak. 

“Oh, I would love a ride home with Stevie,” you smile at him innocently as your foot touches his calf again, but this time, it doesn’t just stay there, you move it up, just a little, but enough to nearly make him choke on his drink. 

“So you can keep getting on his nerves?” Eddie chuckles. 

You lick your lips, smirking as you nod your head slowly, “exactly.”

Yeah, you don’t really do this anymore, getting on each other’s nerves, you both have found something so much better and much more interesting to do to one another. 

“You know I always win, Blondie,” Steve says so very confidently, like he isn’t slowly losing his mind because his want for you is beginning to consume him entirely. 

You tilt your head at him as you bite your lip, the sleeve of your blouse slowly sliding down your shoulder, making him gulp. 

“Do you?” You ask, batting your lashes at him, provoking him with the look on your face. 

He bites the insides of his cheeks, nodding at your words, “mhmm.”

A breathy chuckle falls from your lips, you shrug and lean back, “we’ll see.”

Eddie doesn’t know that you’re talking about something entirely else now, but he couldn’t care less, when he’s got his eyes set on someone that stole his breath away. 

He uses every second he gets with the pretty waitress to flirt, whether it’s through glances when she passes by or through his charming words when she delivers the food to the table. 

He happily eats his burger and his fries, eyes following the blonde wherever she goes, completely blind to what’s happening right next to and in front of him. 

You and Steve keep staring at one another, eyes filled with intense need, hands itching to reach out to the other. 

Steve feels the longing inside his chest, intensifying as the minutes go by, driving him insane. It gets to a point where he can’t wait to get the hell out of this diner so he can go home and take care of himself. He is not sure if he had ever felt this desperate before – he surely never had to rush home to jerk off, but that’s what he feels like now, like he’s going to explode if he sits here any longer. 

The moment you decide on leaving, Steve nearly throws himself out of his seat, feeling no patience left inside of him. 

“I got this covered,” Eddie announces, pulling out his wallet as he gets out of the booth so you can get out, “you two can go.” 

You grab your sunglasses and get up, putting your hand on Eddie’s shoulder, “I see what you’re trying to do, you wanna get rid of us so you can flirt with the hot blonde.” 

He wiggles his brows, smirking at you proudly, “gotta score a date with my dream girl.” 

Steve chuckles, grabbing the car keys from his pocket, he smirks at Eddie, “just don’t mess it up again.” 

Eddie shakes his head, “nah never.” 

“Alright casanova, call me and tell me how it went.” 

“Call you?” He frowns, “I’ll be there to raid your kitchen tonight, sweets.” 

You step away from him, brushing past Steve, “alright raccoon, I’ll see you later then.” 

“See ya,” he chuckles. 

With a sigh, Steve looks at Eddie, playing with his keys and giving him a nod. 

“Good luck, man.”

“Thanks,” Eddie winks, “and don’t kill each other!” He jokes, ignoring the weird looks he’s given from an older couple two booths away. 

“Don’t worry, we’re not at that point anymore.” 

You’re at a whole different point now, one that doesn’t make him angry, not exactly, just one that drives him up the wall. 

Steve stares at your hips, at the way your shorts hug your body so nicely, the way your ass looks so good in them. He forces his eyes away, feeling a little startled when you turn around to face him before you open the door, a friendly smile appears on your face and he realizes that you aren’t looking at him, but at Eddie’s ‘dream girl’, waving goodbye at the girl before you step out. 

He feels the sudden need to talk, hoping that you won’t tease him any further in the car, because if you do, he isn’t sure if he will manage to control himself the way he did, the whole time at the diner. 

He rubs the back of his neck, walking down the steps, he clears his throat. 

“Do you think he will manage to score a date?”

You slow down as you put your sunglasses on, “yeah, I’m pretty sure he will.”

Steve chuckles, nodding. 

“She seems nice, and she’s pretty,” you say.

So are you. Steve thinks to himself. 

“She’s got the kind of blonde hair you wanted when you ruined your hair with the blonde dye, huh?”

Steve can’t see your eyes behind your sunglasses, but he can see the amused look on your features as your lips curl into a smile. 

He ignores the way it feels when you step closer to him, when your hand brushes against his knuckles, sending chills throughout his whole body. 

“Actually, I wanted it even lighter, and how would I know that the pictures on the box dye were lies, it said it lightens up any hair color to that specific color!” 

Steve laughs at you, “what color were you hoping for?” 

You shrug, stepping away from him again when you walk around his car to the passenger side. 

“I wanted like a Dolly Parton or uh… Heather Locklear kind of blonde.” 

He unlocks the car and opens his door, raising his brows at you, “wow, you should have gone to a hair salon, Blondie.”

You lift your sunglasses, rolling your eyes at him, “it was a spontaneous decision, I thought I could handle that myself, I’m definitely never touching hair dye again.”

“Just call me, next time,” he winks at you as he gets into the car, “I’m a pro at doing hair.” 

You laugh at him as you get in as well, “didn’t know you were a hairdresser, Harrington.” 

“They don’t call me ‘the hair’ for nothing.” 

“Oh wow. I wouldn’t trust you with my hair, who knows what color you’d dye my hair to.”

“Maybe I’d get it to the Dolly Parton blonde that you wanted.” 

“Yeah, right!” You scoff at him, “cause you’re such an expert!” 

A smile tugs at his lips, it almost feels normal, sitting here in his car with you, talking like this, it almost distracts him enough from the strong tension between you both, from the pull that is dragging him towards you, more and more. 

Despite the frustration that he feels from all your teasing, he cannot help but want to keep playing the little game. 

The sun is shining brightly, pulling down the sun visor won’t be enough – how convenient it is that he keeps his sunglasses in the glove compartment. He could ask you to get them but instead, he moves closer, “I’m sorry,” he murmurs before he places his hand on your knee as he reaches forward so he can get his ray-ban’s. 

Satisfaction rushes through him when he hears you sucking in a sharp breath. 

But, his longing intensifies when he gets a whiff of your perfume and feels how soft your skin actually is. 

He clearly never thinks things through, his little plans always backfire. 

The want to wrap his hand around your thigh and keep it there is so strong… so goddamn strong, but he pulls away begrudgingly, holding back the smirk when he feels your eyes on him. He puts the sunglasses on, and finally starts the car. 

Your silence surprises him, but he knows that it’s something that won’t stay for long. 

Hungry Like The Wolf by Duran Duran starts playing and Steve almost wants to laugh at the irony, this is exactly what he feels like right now, hungry like a fucking wolf, hungry for you. 

If you had been any other girl, he would’ve made a move on you, a long long time ago. He would have flirted more obviously, he would’ve taken your hand in his, he would’ve brushed your hair out of your face before leaning in to kiss you.

But you’re not just any girl, you’re… you. 

You love this little game, and no matter how flustered you get, no matter the looks you are giving him, he still struggles to read you, he still struggles to figure out whether you want what he wants or not. 

He is waiting for a sign, but it’s almost like he’s blind to anything you give to him. 

He holds the steering wheel tightly, keeping his other hand on the gearstick, dangerously close to your thigh. He keeps sneaking glances at you, at your soft skin, at the way you press your legs together, at the way your fingers play with the loose string on your shorts. 

Steve’s face grows hot, his heart beating faster in his chest. 

He almost feels relieved when your house comes into view, and he pulls up into your driveway. 

“So… what are you doing today?” You ask as you unbuckle your seatbelt, “besides having a movie day by yourself.” 

You turn your body towards him, not making any moves to get out of the car yet. 

“Uh… I don’t know,” he lies, his cheeks glowing red. 

He already knows what he’s gonna do the moment he walks through his front door. 

You take your sunglasses off, biting your lip as your eyes move up and down his body, making him shift uncomfortably, yet again. 

“Well, I’m going to lay out in the sun, in my new red bikini.” 

Steve’s eyes widen, and he almost starts drooling at the images that start forming in his mind. 

Images of you… half naked. 

“We should have a pool party at some point,” you smile, blinking at him as you start inching closer to him, looking down at his lips. 

“Uh huh…”

“But anyways, I should get going,” you sigh, catching him by surprise when you place your hand on his thigh, so dangerously close to where he needs you the most, “thanks for the ride, Stevie.” 

And as though that wasn’t bad enough. 

You almost cause his heart to stop beating, when your face is only inches away from him now, and you press your lips against his cheek, kissing him, completely shocking him, leaving him a stuttering mess. 

He lost all ability to speak, all he can do is stare at you, as his skin tingles and his heart races. 

You smirk at him, eying his red cheeks. 

“Who would’ve thought that Steve Harrington would ever blush for me,” you say smugly, before you pull away and get out of the car, giggles falling from your lips. Without another word, you close the door and walk away, looking over your shoulder one more time, still giggling. 

Fuck. 

His frustration turns into anger when the realization starts creeping in slowly. 

The smug look on your face, the smirk and your stupid giggles prove his point, that you did all of this not because you wanted him, but because you wanted to win this fucking game. 

That’s all it is, that’s all it ever was. 

A game. 

He doesn’t know what the feeling in his chest is, whether it’s the feeling of annoyance or rejection, but it only irritates him even further, especially when all he can think about is still you. 

You in your stupid red bikini, lying under the sun, looking pretty and hot… looking like someone he can never have, not even for a single night. 

He is angry, angry at himself for still wanting you, for needing you, for wishing that he could feel your bare body underneath him, for wishing to hear your moans, your voice calling out his name, your hands clinging to his body, fingers tugging at his hair. 

Despite the rejection, he feels his stupid jeans getting tighter, his dick straining against the fabric, making him feel uncomfortable and so needy to a point that the moment he gets home, he rushes upstairs and into the bathroom. 

He slams the door shut and presses his back against it, hastily unbuckling his belt, the clinking and his heavy breathing being the only sounds to fill the room… for now. He pushes down his boxers and his pants, just enough so he can pull his dick out – his tip is an angry red, already leaking with pre cum, he spits into his hand before he wraps his hand around his aching cock. 

That is all that it takes for a needy whimper to fall from his lips. 

He closes his eyes, throwing his head back against the door as he starts jerking off slowly. 

Images of you curse and bless his mind at the same time. 

He wonders what it would be like to feel your hand around his dick or what it would be like to feel your lips on his neck, your whispers in his ear as you take care of him. 

He furrows his brows, lips parting as his moans get louder and he begins to move his hand faster and faster, squeezing his eyes shut. 

He pictures you on your knees for him, your hands replaced by your lips as he shuts you up with his cock in your mouth, silencing you once and for all, while tears stream down your cheeks.

“Oh fuck…” Steve whimpers, getting lost in pleasure. 

He wanted nothing more than to bend you over the table when you started teasing him with the stupid whipped cream, but all he can think about now is you on your knees worshiping him. 

His muscles tighten as he increases the tempo, using his thumb to rub the slit as he imagines it being the tip of your tongue as you look at him with big and teary eyes. 

And he doesn’t know for how long he was imagining you like this, but it doesn’t matter because he is soon spilling in his hand, a loud groan escaping his lips as well as a shaky breath, the back of his head hitting the door as he tries to ease his breathing. 

Maybe three minutes passed, or twenty, but it didn’t matter. His cum is already on his hand and in your honor. 

But this didn’t satiate his hunger, nor his lust for you in the slightest. 

Nothing that he could possibly do will. 

He can imagine you and take care of himself all he wants, but it won’t change the way he wants you, the way he craves you. 

He knows that there is only one way to get rid of this.

Tomorrow he will put his frustration away. That’s all it is, frustration. He just needs to let it out. He needs to fucking breathe again. 

Yeah. Tomorrow. 

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @maroon-cardigan @munson-mjstan @sherrylyn628 @munsonlore @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington angst #stranger things angst

[arkhammaid]

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ THE WORDSMITH.

fandom. formula one

pairing. charles leclerc x author fem!reader (fc: none)

about. bestseller author genevieve dedicates her newest book to a special person. the internet tries to find out who it is

content warnings. social media au, not edited/proofread

notes. who doesn't dream about being a world famous author?

GENEVIEVE_UPDATES

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc and 10'883 others

genevieve_updates The dedication in the newest Bestseller 'When We Were Wallflowers', by @/genevieve. For the first time in her career she mentiones a partner, calling him 'my love' and surprisingly also 'mon coeur'. Who could her beau be?

user NO MOTHER IS NO LONGER SINGLE

⤷ user my life is officially over...

user HE'S THE REASON WHY WE HAVE THE BEST ROMANCE BOOK OF THE DECADE THANK YOU DAD

⤷ user parents fr 🙏🙏🙏

user "our story now forever immortal and never forgotten" AND WHAT IF I CRY

user don't know if i should cry tears from sadness that mom is taken or happiness that mom is taken

⤷ user at least he makes her happy (delulu)

⤷ user you're so right, tears of happiness then

user THE F1 X GENEVIEVE CROSSOVER IS HAPPENING??

⤷ user SO I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO NOTICED PIERRE IN THE LIKES

⤷ user charles as well???

⤷ user hello wtf is happening SINCE WHEN DO THEY READ??

user "YOUR WORDSMITH"???? am i the only one loosing my mind over this

⤷ user no. i just haven't recovered yet

GENEVIEVE

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc, haileybieber and 503'002 others

genevieve My summer was filled with flowers and love, so much love. It has given me enough inspiration to write yet another romance book, even if I promised to return to my beloved fantasy. Yet when the heart calls... who am I to refuse? 'Reverie, Lost in your Love' will be published in November '24!

user HOLY SHIT WE'RE GETTING FED FR

user SHE NAMED HER NEW BOOK REVERIE I CAN NOT

⤷ user reverie: a state of being pleasantly lost in your thoughts, almost dreaming

⤷ user mom is big brained fr "lost in your love"? yes, yes i will be

haileybieber I will be (im)patiently waiting, as always 💗

⤷ genevieve And I will be sending you the first draft, as always

⤷ user their friendship is so dear to me 🥹🥹

⤷ user icons supporting icons i fear

⤷ user auntie hailey better drop some spoilers!!!

zendaya We're getting another romance by our queen! Rejoice!!

⤷ user DAYA IS LIKE US FR

⤷ user WEWOOO SHE READS GENEVIEVE

user i just know the cover will be serving cunt (in the most beautiful flowers)

user REVERIE REVERIE REVERIE

user only four months left... only four months left......

pierregasly super liked by pierre gasly

⤷ user why is he so unserious 😭

⤷ user "super liked" goddamn we're finally reaching the part where he will rate posts he likes

CHARLES_LECLERC

liked by pierregasly, andferrari007, arthur_leclerc and 1'032'883 others

charles_leclerc Nothing better than summer, sun, beach and a good book in my hands. And of course good company 😉

user the tan 🫠🫠

user IS THAT A GENEVIEVE BOOK??

⤷ user oh my god you're right

⤷ user and it's one of her fantasy ones, from her fae series 👀

⤷ user charles has taste

user first he's in her likes and now he's reading her books... how do we tell him

⤷ user hear me out, genevieve and charles *gets shot*

⤷ user KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT, MOM DESERVES SO MUCH BETTER THAN HIM

⤷ user i trust in mom and i trust that she wouldn't fall for a vroom vroom man

pierregasly you already finished the other books?

⤷ charles_leclerc Breezed through them 😆

⤷ arthur_leclerc He's waiting for November

⤷ pierregasly aren't we all?

user the filter is back..

⤷ user the filter never left

GENEVIEVE

liked by charles_leclerc, zendaya, gigihadid and 3'029'746 others

genevieve "J'adore ton sourire, ma belle." I remember hearing these words for the first time, I remember his own smile he gave me back then, and I just knew, I love him. Thank you, Charlie, mon coeur, for standing by my side, for being my inspiration, my defender against the cursed writer's block. Your passion inspires me to write even more, so I'm proud to announce once again, another romance book. 'Winterbliss and Midnightkiss' will be available in March '25.

charles_leclerc Tu es incroyable, ma belle ❤️

⤷ genevieve Right back at you, my champion

comments have been limited

taglist. @lilypadlover , @adorablezhui , @peqch-pie , @namgification , @keyz-writes , @obsidianjewel , @aimixx , @themercyverse , @lem-hhn , @lupicalbestwolf , @akiraquote

DO YOU WANT TO JOIN THE TAGLIST? please send a non-anon ask to be added to the taglist. taglist can be general taglist (all fandoms and all works), fandom taglist (all works within the fandom), series (all works for specific series) or nsfw taglist (all nsfw works and all fandoms).

ARKHAM MAID 2024

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #cl16 x reader #cl16 x you #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 scenario #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc social media au #charles leclerc smau #— ˚₊‧⁺˖ creations

[genshinology]

AN INFLUENTIAL MAN’S COMPANION (OR IS IT MORE?!)

(alternatively, how they are dropping hints left and right that you are more than just a friend.)

— PAIRINGS ; alhaitham, ayato & childe x gn!reader (separate)

— CONTENT ; oblivious!reader, may contain a spoiler from sumeru's story quest on alhaitham's, mentions of childe's real name (ajax), reader is addressed as “little bug” in childe's (please, it's just a poorly written joke, i swear).

— NOTES ; don't care what everyone says but a man that has the power and money is definitely a man that i want. wrote this on a whim so 'm sorry for the horrible writing and the lack of details in this.

☆ — ALHAITHAM

"why are you so dense?" alhaitham's question caught you off guard, considering the fact that you were so immersed with yet another history book of teyvat in the akademiya's house of daena.

his sudden question made you unknowingly gazed at him with annoyance (it wasn't your fault though, not when he actually interrupted your reading of the fourth chapter), and you quickly bookmarked the page you had last read before actually paying full attention to the scribe across you.

"dense is not really a word to describe me. i think i catch on things around me quite fast," you huffed out, exaggeratedly bumping your forehead onto the desk. a silent thud was heard afterwards, not necessarily loud enough for other people to hear, but alhaitham definitely caught on the hint you mentally saying that you were bored and the fact that he took away the only form of your entertainment by taking away the thick book from you made you squinted your eyes at him.

your eyes prying at his action. he was an unpredictable man, so you couldn't question what he did. especially when the question of, "do you know what is the context of this book?" suddenly came out from his mouth.

"uhm.. yes?" you stopped thinking too deep when alhaitham's gaze zeroed straight into you, signalling that you should be answering his question more precisely. "a book about teyvat; the seven nations, the archon war, the history, the irminsul, the heavenly principles, the fatui, the abyss—

"ah yes, sounds like classified information, isn't it?" alhaitham cut you off, showing the old cover page with a knowing look that you couldn't really decipher. "you do realise that this book comes from the restricted repository room?" alhaitham was questioning you, slightly smiled when he saw how the gears in your brains were slowly turning and you finally understood what he was trying to point out.

"wait. you are right. it makes sense now, how incomplete certain details are since the book itself covers forbidden knowledge.." you put your right palm underneath your jaw, still in disbelief at the fact that the book in his hold was a restricted material for general use to the scholars and the public.

"not really the brightest mind," he paused. "that's why i said you are, indeed, a slow-witted person," he shook his head, his own work was slowly forgotten amidst the conversation he accidentally forced you into.

"that is just saying 'stupid' in a more formal manner. i am truly offended," you sighed, noting the way alhaitham seemed taken aback at the last sentence you gave to him.

alhaitham could only put down the book in front of you. "..and i am offended as well. you don't even think that i am using my authority to give you access to this one book you have been super interested in these days, haven't you?"

he turned away after seconds of eye contact, especially when your eyes widened and you felt how your cheeks were hurting due to the shock. "you.. did this for me? not exactly the first thing i would think of, especially if it's from the scribe of the akademiya."

you smiled, way too wide and alhaitham thought he was holding his breath for a moment. "thank you, you're so kind."

'kind' wasn't what he really expected you to say, specifically when he, himself, wasn't filled with kindness and tenderness alike. the you that he knew would be instantly flustered if you ever knew the true meaning of his intention when he first directed you with those questions.

he could only laughed heartlessly at your statement, thinking that you must have never received this much attention from someone, or that you really treated him as a true friend.

"i do not do this for some mere scholars, just so you know that you are exceptional."

☆ — AYATO

"my lord," you bowed down, giving ayato the respectable approach that he deserved. "is there something you would like me to help?"

ayato was a diligent and a busy man, that was the first thing you had noticed when he first took you right under his wing. his smile specifically was something you swore would be your death one day, he was too charming for your own good.

"come here," his bright face made you ten times more nervous than ever. "also, please, drop the formalities. we are hidden from the public view."

the last sentence was way too intimate, but you decided that it must have been his figure of speech.

"yes, my lord—i mean, ayato," you slightly cringed at the way his name rolled off your tongue not-so-eloquently. something about calling him by his name, even without his family name, felt super uncivil to you.

he had done so much for you, so to hear his request of doing what you had been accustomed to was hard.

so you could only stumble forward awkwardly, hands clasping together to stop yourself from shaking a little bit too much. why did he always bring out the nervousness within you in private? did he really had these effects?

"here, sit down," ayato's calligraphy pen halted its movement, and it didn't help to calm you down when he patted the sit beside his chair.

"i'm sorry, my lord," the title accidentally slipped away nonetheless, and you decided to ignore the look in his eyes—as if he was hurting by the fact that you didn't address his name, but he possibly couldn't be that childish, it was the commissioner after all—as he quickly regained his composure. "you need my help to assort these paperworks?"

"it is fine, y/n," oh, the fact that he didn't address your first name made you knew he did feel slightly dejected.

you quickly made up your action by swiftly gliding onto the chair he already pulled out underneath his study. for a moment, you were stunned at the act of a gentleman he usually did to you. he was so kind, and you knew that you were super lucky to have him as your employer.

"i don't want you to do anything today. you can rest up until tomorrow," he said, slightly rummaging some precious items he kept in the drawer. you knew those items in there were far more important to him, especially when it also had his late father's will that was neatly preserved in the sakura-scented letter he and ayaka made a long time ago. it was honestly a cute activity for them now that you reminisced the memory.

"is there any occasion? or you will be away?" you asked him, and you could see his eyes lightened up at the way his hand reached out to yours, and you were left baffled.

his hand was warm, that was the first thing you noted. besides when you felt something smooth in your palm, you questioned the foreign thing in your hand.

it was a necklace, with a lighter hue of blue as its pendant. your intrusive thought won you over as you saw how the pendant resembled ayato's hydro vision to an extent. it was ethereal, at least in your eyes.

by the feel of it, you already knew this necklace's worth had already exceeded your wage.

"ayato?"

"it is for you. i was buying one for ayaka when i was reminded of you, y/n," he warmly explained, his sincere eyes were too much for you as you avoided his eye contact.

your beating heart felt dangerous as ever. his hands were still engulfing yours, as if to keep you from shying away.

"take it. it would mean a lot to me."

"thank you, sir-ayato," you corrected yourself, and ayato thought it was adorable of you to stutter around him.

his heart was content when you thanked him over and over again.

if giving the necklace was a metaphor to his love letter, then he would be overjoyed when he saw you roaming around his estate with the necklace on you the next day.

☆ — CHILDE

"today's a really nice day," childe sighed happily, as he picked you up from the ground, and you repeatedly punched his back, flailing in his arms to put you down.

"ajax!" you gasped, who wouldn't be in shock, when you were literally caught off guard by his attack and then your feet weren't touching the snowy path anymore. "put me down."

"ehem, manners, please," he faked a cough.

you could only kick around, although none of your actions would actually affect him physically. "i am almost going to swear at you, you know?"

"put me down, please," you tried to whisper into his ear, so that he would feel ticklish by the air that escaped from you.

"gross," he commented, and before you knew it, he already let you go from his somewhat soothing hold onto your body. "need to disinfect my ear after this."

you slapped his arm after hearing his bad joke, roughly enough to get his focus onto you. "let me do it with the bug spray i have at home. i hope it'll cleanse your whole soul too."

"touché," childe cracked a smile at hearing you almost choked on your breath. "aren't you my little bug?"

"don't you have a cuter nickname for me? seriously, bug? out of all lovelier things on this world?" at this point, you had already clinging onto childe's side, hyper aware at some people who had been watching the playful fight between you two for some time now.

childe noticed the way you practically glued to him, your hand fisting the sweater he wore, and childe could only thought that your ministration would only bring a misunderstanding, especially that one which people always commented on when they saw both of you.

"look at you two."

childe could only smile at the old lady that passed by him. "couple fights are normal, until the old days. i hope you're having a great time," the old lady patted your back, and when you were about to clear the misunderstanding he had always loved, the old lady left.

"w-what?" you turned to childe whom somehow looked at you fondly, and you could only voiced out your opinion on the cold day. "that old lady is not making any sense."

"—and you, ajax," you continued when you caught childe slacking from paying his full focus attentively to you, as he only shrugged his shoulder. "...are you really going to leave again?"

"hm?" he hummed, and thought to himself that you were so adorable in his spare sweater, fighting against the chilly wind and hesitating to actually say that you would miss him if he went to liyue for his work again.

"of course. it is my duty for the tsaritsa, and no, you won't be going to join me this time. have you forgotten when you almost got hit by the fatui because they were belittling you?" childe quickly cut you off when he saw how your lips twitching at his words, knowing too well that you would suggest the idea of venturing to liyue with him. the last time he accepted your idea, he almost blamed himself fully if one of his subordinates hurt you. he could only thank the archons that nothing too severe happened on you.

"b-but—

"and, our date for today went exceptionally well, wasn't it? you won't miss me like you have always did before," he winked, and you almost threw your fist at his face if you could. "i am going there for a week. i'll be back before you know it."

"right. let's stop now before your teasing goes too far ahead of yourself," you rolled your eyes, and only did you notice that you were still holding him dearly.

you quickly pulled your hand, and childe swore he had already missed the way you stayed close by his side. he was definitely smitten, he knew it.

"thank me later for wasting my money on you," childe laughed at the way you tried to run away from his grasp.

if he could, he would voice out loud that he really didn't care about his money, as long as you were happy with him, and it frustrated him a little bit that you really thanked him for that when all he wanted to say was that he loved you too.

all rights reserved © genshinology 2023 strictly on tumblr only. any form of wrongdoings under the copyright law is strictly prohibited.

#☆.works #yaepublishinghouse #twilighttheatre #al haitham x reader #ayato x reader #childe x reader #al haitham x you #ayato x you #childe x you #al haitham fluff #ayato fluff #childe fluff #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact imagines #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin fluff #genshin imagines #al haitham imagines #ayato imagines #childe imagines #alhaitham imagines

[ao3commentoftheday]

If you're reading posts about people who are being "treated unfairly" by AO3, I would like you to keep in mind that AO3 will never tell you the other side of the story. That means that you're only getting one perspective and you have nothing to compare it to.

All reports that AO3 receives are kept confidential. The person who was reported never finds out who sent in the report. The person who sent in the report never finds out details beyond whether AO3 agreed with them or not. The other volunteers within AO3 never find out, either. Just the ones on the Policy & Abuse team.

I'm saying this because I've been tagged in several different posts in recent weeks dealing with different cases and I'm not going to cast aspersions or anything. I don't know the details (see above). But I will say that I tend to be skeptical.

A few things to note: If AO3 ever receives a report about you and decides that you have broken the TOS, they will email you. Check your email. Make sure the email address associated with your account is up to date and one that you check regularly. In that email, they will tell you:

What part of the TOS you broke.

Why what you did was not allowed.

Where you did it (a link to a work or to a comment or to your profile page etc)

How you can fix it.

How much time you have to fix it (if you are suspended, the timeline will be longer than however long your suspension is)

That you can reply to their email if you have questions, if you want to disagree, or if you need to ask for more time.

You should also keep in mind that AO3 cannot delete accounts. Only the account owner can do that. And please remember that you are dealing with human volunteers.

AO3 doesn't pre-screen content, so it doesn't matter if the violation happened a long time ago. If it's being reported now, then they're dealing with it now. Also, other people doing the same thing doesn't mean you didn't break the rules. It just means those people haven't been reported yet.

If you want to learn more about how AO3 Policy & Abuse reports work, take a look at the pac takeover tag on this blog. One of the PAC volunteers answered questions a few months ago that might shed more light.

#ao3

[morallyinept]

Pop Goes The Javi - A Javier Peña One Shot for PMAMC 2024

Written for @wannab-urs Peg That Middle Aged Man Campaign 2024 - proud to be part of this collection of amazing writers. Check them out for all the Pedro Boys being pegged! 🍑 Also, check out last year's PMAMC 2023 too!

Summary: It’s Javi's birthday and you have the perfect gift for him.

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It’s you, bub. Reader speaks and understands Spanish.)

Word Count: 4.5k-ish

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️🌶️ “You tell me I’m doing well, and then, you try to kill me.”

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Explicit - Pegging/rimming/anal fingering/anal penetration, M receiving/fingering F receiving/all the glorious butt stuff with Javi's pert lil' butt 🍑 Javi being a drooling mess.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

I write for me and I share with you. If this story isn't for you, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: There's a fair amount of Javi Spanish in this, so I've provided translations at the end of the story. Special thanks to my sweet hermosa @rhoorl for helping me out with this. 🖤

Thanks again for letting me be apart of this @wannab-urs �� Please be sure to check out, and re-blog, all the other amazing stories by the other fantastic writers who have also taken part this year! 🍑

PMAMC Banner/poster created by @wannab-urs 🖤

MAIN MASTERLIST | JAVIER PEÑA MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

As the sun dips below the Bogotá skyline, casting a warm, orange glow across the city, the heat coats your skin like a greased balm. 

You find yourself nestled into a cosy booth with Javi in a restaurant; the taste of sweet agave and ash lingers on his lips, and his nimble, thick fingers cause a mutiny of tingles to travel across your epidermis as he brushes the tips of them over your thigh. 

The flap of his open collar, under his worn in leather jacket, reveals golden bone protrusions that you long to taste again, and it takes you a few moments to realise that you haven't heard a single word he’s said most of the evening as you’ve been fixated on it, until his fingers sweep up to your inner thigh under the table.  

“This fucking dress leaves little to the imagination.” He murmurs, planting a kiss on your temple.

“And I assume yours is running amok right now?” You say, leaning further into him.

“Si, cariño.”

“Good. Mission accomplished.” You smile into his mouth. 

He licks his tongue into yours as you tug at the soft, creaky lapel on his jacket. 

“I think we should go, vamos a casa,” Javi husks into your face with a prudent smirk; a plush bottom lip pouting suggestively under that moustache. 

“No, you’ve not had any dessert yet,” you smile, stopping his hand from going any further.

“I plan on having it back at yours,” he says, eyes dropping to your cleavage and then back up to your face. 

“I think you’ll like this one better,” you grin as a dessert with a single candle arrives at your table.

The restaurant staff, having been forewarned it’s Javi's birthday, join in singing a lively rendition of Feliz Cumpleaños, much to his chagrin.

You can’t help but giggle at his discomfort, eyeing you with a puckered frown and pink pout, but equally trying not to laugh at your audacity when you clap and sing along enthusiastically with them. 

“For the record, I hate birthdays.” Javi mutters, as you pick up the spoon and feed the dulce de leche flan to him. His teeth clash against the metal as he eats it begrudgingly whilst you grin and sparkle at him. 

“I think you’ll enjoy this one. You won’t forget it in a hurry.” You muse. 

“Mhm.” He retorts with knitted eyebrows. 

“I still haven’t given you your present yet.” 

“You got me a present? ¿Qué voy a hacer contigo?” Javi murmurs under his breath. Then he softens. “If it’s not you in my lap in this dress, then I don’t want it.” 

You lean forward, fingers raking through the sweaty curled hairs at the nape of his neck.

“I’m not wearing any underwear…” You tease.

The growl that escapes his lips is heard by the table opposite as they turn quizzically as he feigns clearing his throat.

“We’re going. Right fucking now.” He says, standing. Your eyes are drawn to the obvious bulge straining in his tight jeans at eye level.

A short cab ride to your apartment is spent glued to his lips as your curl yourself around him as close as you physically can. His hand rests dangerously close to the centre of your thighs; the slip of liquid silk from your dress riding up further as his fingers edge closer to the wet heat there. 

You soon feel his wandering digits probing brazenly at your slit, sliding the length of them up and down through your drenched lips, making you moan into his hungry mouth on the backseat.

The backs of your thighs stick to the leather as Javi collects the slick pooling at your hole and rubs it onto your clit where he circles languidly with a delicious pressure that makes your skin tighten and crack. 

He works two fingers in with slow, intense strokes as he clutches you close to him with his other arm around you, lips buried in the skin at your throat as he sucks it gently into his mouth.

Small, little whines escape you as he builds you up, and it’s not long before you glance at the driver peering at you both through the mirror surreptitiously.

“Ojos en el camino, señor.” Javi instructs with a grizzled bite to his tone as the driver looks away. 

He withdraws his fingers smirking as you giggle. He generously tips the driver outside your apartment before pulling you in through the door, latched onto fuzzy lips that want to devour you whole. 

He has you pinned up against the door with his hand swimming back under your dress, but you clamp down on his wrist stopping him. 

“No. It’s your birthday and I have something I want to give you.” You whisper, stamping a sizzling kiss on his cheek.

“I don’t need anything, but this…” Javi says, stroking lightly against your pussy lips again.

“Please. Just indulge me. No te arrepentirás lo prometo.” You groan, pushing his hand away.  

Sighing into your shoulder, Javi allows you to lead him to the bedroom. Kissing feverishly, you unbuckle his jeans; those tight, dark jeans that keep him all snug and shapely as you work your hands over that tight, little ass of his. 

You pull away from the kiss, admiring your hands squeezing and lavishing his cheeks slipped down in the back of his jeans. You groan as you knead and squeeze the pliant, bouncy meat of it. 

“Is this what you want to do? Feel up my ass?" Javi smirks, the left side of his lip crooking up first. 

You shake your head, grinning at him. “No. I want to fuck it.”

Javi baulks. “What?”

"You heard me." You flutter.

He sinks onto the end of the bed, watching as you scurry over to the closet. 

“I got you this.” You pull a box out and place it on his lap. 

“What is it?” He asks, regarding it as though a bomb might go off in his face at any second.

“It’s your birthday present. Open it.” You say, watching carefully.

He opens it, pulling at the wrapping paper curiously and then sighs when it’s revealed to him.

“Jesus.” He hides the panic in his voice extremely well, but you can see it spreading all over his face.

“Javi, don’t be upset.” You say tentatively.

“I’m not upset, I just…” He looks up at you with those big browns, deep and entrancing, and full of something else; something you’ve never seen before as it picks at you. You worry you've made a mistake.

“We've talked about it. You said you wanted to try it one day."

"I did." He admits in a low tone.

"Do you want to try it tonight?” You probe gently.

“Querida.”

“You know you want to...” You smile enticingly at him.

He glances at you again, that same look and you realise what it is - vulnerability. 

“Javi, do you trust me?”

He frowns instantly. “Of course I do, sabes que lo hago.”

“Good. We’ll go as slow as you want.” You confirm, nodding gently. 

He stares into the box for a few moments and you can see him gulp. He puts the box on the bed, lights up a cigarette and takes a deep drag. 

“Don’t I have to prepare, or something?” Javi asks, his shoulders hunching up through the plume of smoke. “I sound like a fucking idiot. Jesus.”

“I've got lube.” You say, nodding to the box. 

He peers in. “Mierda.”

You come and sit beside him as he blows the smoke out away from your face. He slings his arm over your shoulder and you kiss his hand as your fingers entwine.

“We don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, Javi. But I think you want to...” You sway. "I'd really like to fuck you on your birthday," you add, whispering.

Javi regards you carefully, those inquisitive eyes latching onto yours and you can see him mulling it over.

He takes another drag on the cigarette, the end burning a bright red in the darkening room.

"You want to fuck me, cariño, hmm?" He says and you can see that lip crooking up again.

"Mmhm." You nod, smirking.

He blows out more smoke. “Alright. Let me shower first, okay? I fucking stink.”

You smile and nod. “Okay.”

When he comes out, a little while later, the room is cast in a soft light from the bedside lamp.

You have the dildo, lube and strap laid out on the bed. You’re sitting there waiting for him, trying not to imagine him derailing this by his own insecurities, when he emerges with a towel loosely wrapped around his svelte waist and dark hair a damp mess.

He’s never looked so fucking good, golden skin shiny with water droplets that sparkle in the light. You can't help but stare and lick your lips.

“Ven aquí,” you hold out your hand and pull him towards you with an entrancing smile. “If I do something you don’t like, just tell me to st-”

“Just shut up and kiss me,” Javi growls as he takes your face in his big hands and plants his lips on yours.

He nips on your bottom lip as his hand slides up under your dress to find you soaking for him again. A few brushes against your clit has your thighs spasming, but again you stop him, stepping back and lifting the dress over your head. 

You pull the faded towel off of him and turn him so he’s sitting on the bed.

"How do you want me?" Javi asks.

"Just like this," you say.

You kiss all over his tan skin, down his chest and towards the prominent swell of his cock resting against his belly; a small thicket of dark, curled hairs rests at the base, damp from the shower. 

He’s already leaking glossy pearls in anticipation as they string onto his skin. You kiss all around his groin, deliberately avoiding his cock as you lay him back.

Parting him by the knees, you smile and stroke the insides of his thighs.

"I want to kiss you."

He nods, pupils already blown and lips parted as he anticipates your every move.

Balls swollen like ripe plums hang heavy over the untouched skin of his taint where you run your tongue first. 

The soft snuffles from his nose indicate that he likes it, and you lick under his sack, sucking one of them into your mouth gently as he hisses in response. 

Trailing your mouth and planting kisses, you push his legs wider and he moans out as you find his dark, little hole and begin to wiggle the tip of your tongue over it.

Catching him by surprise, apparent from the shock in his voice, Javi's tone shifts to a higher pitch as you lick around the pink pucker of his ass.

“Fuck,” is all he can but utter on a choked whisper as you tongue him there. 

Teasing, licking and smooching around the most intimate part of him, a part that he’s never revealed so brazenly to anyone else before; you can tell by the way he’s all coiled up, fists clenched and back taut and rigid. Trying to relax into it, but feeling out of sorts at the same time as these new sensations flood over him.

He'd said he'd wanted to try it, was curious about the appeal, when you'd both opened up to each other about your fantasies.

You'd asked if he would try with you and he'd said yes, as he kissed you moaning into your mouth, and harder than he'd ever been at the idea.

Equally, you'd thought about nothing else since, planning on making it perfect for him.

Well, there was no perfect time than his birthday and it solved the conundrum of what to get him as a gift.

You flick your tongue over his hole, back and forth, back and forth, as he shudders. You can feel a little contraction as you push in the tip, a slight hesitation, as he grunts out. 

But Javi grabs his cock and begins stroking it while gritting his teeth. His breathy groans turn into heated growls as you continue to lick and explore his ass with your tongue, readying him up for what’s to come. 

You glance up at him, head craned back in the pillow and slack mouth open, and you know you won’t get that image out of your head for a while; it’s burned into it like a firebrand on raw cattle hide.

He looks fucking exquisite, paused in his own pleasure. His eyes catch yours when you stop, taking this moment to indulge.

“You're feeling pretty good about yourself right now, aren't you?” He questions looking down at you looking at him, as you kiss around his little, pink rim again.  

“Maybe.” You smirk. “But you are too, admit it. You like it.” 

"I do." He nods with a content snuffle.

You reach for the lube, squeezing a little out and running the smooth silk of it over his hole. He hisses, lips curling back over his teeth, with the coolness of it and you rub your finger over his hole; around in teasing, slow circles, gently increasing the pressing until the tip of your finger slips in. 

“Mmm,” he grunts. But you can feel him resisting as it pops out again. 

“Relax for me, Javi.” You pat his stomach reassuringly.  

You push again when he breathes out and your finger slips in, past the tip and proximal phalanx. You pull back and watch his face; eyes still closed and biting down on his full bottom lip.

His large hands twist at the sheets, gripping so tight they could tear. You pump gently, pushing further in each time and plant kisses on his thigh that twitches. 

“You’re doing so good,” you encourage, your mouth running up his thigh as you push your finger deeper with each pump, twisting and curling it until his whines become a strained gasp when you find that delicious, untouched spot. 

“Fuh…” Javi husks in a strangled moan.

“That’s the spot huh?” You smile. 

“Oh, fuck yes.” He pants as you stroke against it with a little more pressure. "Shit, that's..." He trails off, distracted by how damn good it feels.

His legs jerk as you rub against his spot and his cock literally pulses in response.

"Do that again."

"Are you begging me for more already, Agent Peña?" You grin as you stroke against him some more.

He looks drunk, eyes glazed over as he nods lazily, trying not to grin himself.

“Shall we try the strap?” You entice gently pulling your finger out.

He sits up on his elbows. “If we’re doing this… I-” The look on his face is a mixture of hesitation and fear despite the wild dilating of his eyes turning them into tar pools. 

“Why don't you ride me?” You encourage with a nod. “You can control the depth.”

“Jesus Christ…” Javi blushes almost immediately, a heated flush creeping to the tips of his ears. 

“If you don’t like it we can stop, okay?” You confirm, reaching for the dildo and strap. “But I think you’re really going to like it,” you smile. 

“It’s small.” Javi says, sitting up fully as you belt it on, and you're not sure if he’s relieved or disappointed. 

“Well, your ass is small.” You confirm taking a handful of his pert, little butt. “If you like it we can work up to a bigger one.” 

You squeeze lube all over the dildo and look up at him as you lay back on the bed, head propped up on the pillows. 

"Come here and kiss me, Javi."

He straddles you, leaning down to plant his lips on yours, and you can tell he’s nervous. You angle the silicone cock between you, as it brushes against the crack of his ass.

The veins in his neck swell, his teeth grinding as he feels it nestle between his cheeks, sticky and wet against his hole. 

You hold onto his hips, stroking over the creases in his inner thighs. He looks down at you, eyes deep and trusting, lips red and swollen like the end of his dick.

Big browns melting into you like chocolate. 

“Estas listo?” You ask.

“No,” he sighs with a slight crook of his lip and then chuckles. 

"Go slowly," you say.

He rocks back and forth gently, your hand clasps softly around his stiff cock, stroking as it glides in and out of your hand effortlessly with the remaining lube around your fingers.

You can feel him tentatively getting comfortable, the head of the dildo rubbing at his wet hole as he braves himself each time to push back that bit further onto it. 

He breathes out, relaxing, or trying to relax as best as he can. 

Javi stops, freezing, just as it pushes through the rim and gasps. “Fuck, fuck…”

“Slowly,” you ease again, your hand squeezing his thigh, rubbing gently. 

You’re tempted to buck up a little, help him through the initial pinching through the sphincters - you know he’ll be clenching.

But you also know he needs the control right now. He needs you to let him do it himself.

“I promise it’ll feel so good,” you say, jerking his cock a little harder. “Just relax.”

“I can’t relax when you’re doing that to my cock, fuck…” Javi groans. 

“I can stop-"

“No, no pares… feels so good.”

His fists press into the pillow either side of your head as he leans forward to drape kisses on your mouth and pelts your eyelashes with hot, tempered breaths. "You're fucking killing me, baby." He whispers.

"That's it, let it in. Fuck my cock, Javi. Just like that."

“Mm, shit…” he gasps as he lets his hips sink. “Bésame,” he says, pushing his lips against yours again.

You slip your tongue in his mouth as he whines, gasping as he breaks through. 

He slowly builds a momentum, one that steals his words and breath entirely as his grazed chin runs against your jaw. His cock slides into your palm further as he winds his hips. 

“Sit back, Javi. Let it fill you up.”

You put your hands on his thighs and push him backwards gently as he steadies himself upright. 

You raise both your knees up and it pushes the dildo further into his ass. 

“Fuck… Querida!” He pants, forehead and clavicle shiny with that sheen of sweat already as the room is engulfed with heat. 

“That feel good?” You ask, smiling at him.

God, he looks so fucking gorgeous on top of you right now. Face and chest flushed pink and glowing in the light. 

“Si, así, que bien se siente… Fuck!” 

“A little shift in position got you all fucked up, hmm?” You grin. 

“Fuck…” It’s all he can say as he works. 

You grip round his slippery, fat cock tighter, feeling it pulse against your palm like it has a spine of its own. 

“You’re cute when you ride me.”

“Shut up.” He grunts, blushing harder. 

“I’ve never seen you like this.”

“Like what?” He gasps. 

“Shy.”

“Shut up.” He tries not to smirk under his moustache, but it’s fruitless. It pours out of his mouth like liquid gold dripping onto your tits. 

“You look so good, Javi. So fucking gorgeous.” He always does when he's on top giving it to you, but now you're giving it to him, and it's exquisite to watch him him take it all.

He leans forward again, kissing over your nose, making you smile as he works his hips a little faster on the end of your cock. “Querida, it feels-”

“Tell me.”

“It feels really good.” He grunts. “No puedo creer lo bien que se siente…”

“Told you you’d like it.” You giggle. You raise your hips again and he shudders. 

“Ah, fuck.”

“Your cock is so hard, Javi.” You say feeling it throb more in your fist. “You really like this, don’t you? You like me fucking your tight little ass, hmm?”

He doesn’t answer, but the look he gives you confirms it. He’s utterly beside it all, cracked open and split in half; a vacant, glassy look in his eyes. Drunk on silicone cock and drooling for more.

"Such a cock slut, aren't you?" 

"Hey!" He growls and you giggle again as he pants and whines.

He doesn't know what to do with himself, his large hands keep coming to your face and then to his hips, and back to your face again as he works and grinds. You’ve got him spun, in a tizz.

Javier Peña is a quivering wreck in front of you, on top of you, riding you.

It’s feels so fucking good he can’t think straight. 

You can only imagine what he’ll be like when you eventually get him face down into the mattress and fuck the shit out of his cute little ass.

The thought makes that hot spark flash down your spine and fizz on the end of your clit. You clench around nothing as you fuck up into him some more.

He’s shaking, you can hear it in his voice, those shudders rolling waves on his smoky breath that dislodge from the back cavity of his throat and tumble into your face, all warm and exposed as they peel open. 

“Mmm… mmm.” They flow out of his mouth as jumbled whimpers; little rattled grazes of pleasure between gritted teeth that plead for more and cower in the corner behind terrified eye sockets.

You lean up planting kisses over the smooth crest of his sternum, tasting the salt brine that slicks across it mixing with sweet remnants of your own mango shower gel.

You feel one of his hands supporting the back of your head, combing through your hair as you suck his feverish skin into your mouth. 

“Still feel good?” You query, looking up at him. 

Javi nods, unable to speak and you decide to thrust up into him that bit deeper. 

“Fuck!” He whines loudly, his head snapping back.

You stroke his cock harder, wet and rock solid in your hand as you pump. His whole body shakes now, moving in tandem with you.

“Are you gonna come soon, Javi?”

“Fuck… yeah…” he whispers raggedly. "Si, si..."

He pulls you up a little closer to him. Just his hips move, his cock crushed between the two of you now as he cradles you close, slicking between your stomachs as he grinds his ass deep on the dildo. 

“Oh fuck!” He growls louder, more unrestrained. 

“Yeah. That’s it.” You enthuse. 

He takes his cock, jerking it hard; sitting fully upright as his hips swivel around on the dildo stuffed tight in his ass. 

“Come for me, Javi.” You urge him, reaching up to stroke his chest. "Come all over me."

You buck up into him again, holding onto his shoulders, weighing him down on the dildo, noticing he’s stopped moving, and then he utterly loses it. 

The tip of his cock pulses and squirts thick, pearly ribbons of come from it, splashing over your breasts. 

He grunts with the strain, the pleasure coursing through his body at breakneck speed, flooding him. It feels like electricity in his bones, water filling in his lungs. 

“Fuck, fuck… fuck!” He pants. A small, breathy chuckle escapes him as he ejaculates; his cock continuing to leak all over his hand and you keep going, pushing up into him as he explodes. 

You kiss him delicately, pecking and licking at his lips.

“Mmm shit,” he murmurs against you. 

You buck up again, fucking him that little bit harder as he keeps fucking his fist.

“You’re not done yet, Javi.”

There’s so much of it spilling out of him onto your chest as the dildo rubs against the place deep inside of him that makes him boneless putty in your arms. 

“Q-querida.” He stammers out.

“Mmhmm?” 

“Fuck.”

“Feel good?”

“Yeah!” He puffs. 

“You coming again?”

“I don't think I've stopped... Jesus fucking Christ!”

"You feel so good, Javi." You praise as he whines and whimpers endlessly.

He flops forward, his body trembling.

“Do you think you can take it a little bigger next time?”

“Mmm, fuck… next time? I… shit.” He can’t even think about next time, he’s still reeling from this time. 

“You don’t want to?”

“No I do… no te detengas… I really fucking do.” He’s gasping now, babbling almost in a mix of clumsy Spanish and English as he tries to get his thoughts straight.

He doesn’t want it to end. His hand is a sticky mess, warm and full of his spend that keeps leaking from him. 

You giggle as he pushes his forehead against yours, the sweat slipping across it as he breathes out. He can barely keep himself upright. 

“Can I fuck you a bit harder?” You ask. 

“Que?”

"I wanna fuck you. From behind."

"Si..."

“On your hands and knees, baby.” You smirk at him as you kneel up between his legs as he gets into position.

You squirt some more lube over the dildo and push it gently against his stretched little hole. It squelches as you slide in easily and he hums out in keen want. 

You hold onto his cheeks, squeezing as you thrust your hips forward gently, sliding the dildo in with ease as he’s open and relaxed; nice and deep, and his groans shake the walls. 

His hand comes over his mouth as though he’s in shock at the noises he just made. 

“Let it out, baby.” You say. “I wanna hear how good I’m making you feel, Javi.”

“Mmm-mmm-mmm-fuck-fuck!” He faceplants into the pillow, back arching in a way you’ve never seen him flex before.

You see him push back, chasing your cock as you withdraw and plunge in. 

“You can’t get enough, can you?” You snicker.

He doesn’t answer, but you know that he wants more; know that he’s close to breaking point again as you fuck him harder. The slick pops of the dildo in and out of his ass fill your ears alongside his moans and growls.

He takes you well, takes you that bit harder as you fuck with determined resilience, your hips snapping into him now.

You’ll know he’ll stop you if it’s too much, you remind him to, but the way he’s growling and panting tells you he never wants you to stop.

“Querida, don’t… I… shit. Fuck!” He pants. “I can’t believe you’re fucking inside me, no puedo creerlo.”

Javi whines, long and low as you grind a little more frantically now, fuck him deeper as he twists at the sheets, grinds on his teeth until they’re worn down to flat stumps in his gums. 

“Come for me, Javier.” You press.

His cock still hasn’t fully recovered yet, still half hard, but it doesn’t matter, another creamy load starts to leak from it as you grind up agaisnt that sweet spot inside him, spurting thick globs across the sheets below him.

And he can’t quite believe it. 

“There we go.” You praise as you watch Javi shatter into pieces for the second time. 

You lean over him, kissing his clammy back gently. "You okay?" You whisper in his ear.

He nods, turning to catch your lips on his his. You pull out of him slowly and gently, discarding the strap-on across the messed up bed and nuzzle into him as he collapses on his back. 

He welcomes you in with open, trembling arms, sticky with sweat and come. You feel it smear across your stomach as you get comfy, gluing yourself to him. 

“Fuck,” Javi whimpers into your hairline, a shaky kiss pasted there. 

“How do you feel?” You ask, fingers stroking over his cut jaw. 

He sighs out. “Like... I need about fifty cigarettes.” Javi chuckles, his chest rumbling under you. "Shit."

"You liked it?"

"Si, very much so." He squeezes you in his arms.

“So, do you still hate birthdays?” You query with a smirk after a few minutes of listening to his heartbeat regain its regular pace. 

The heat in the room is still stifling and you stick further to him.

Javi chuckles, shaking his head with some slack wonderment. “Sin comentarios.” 

“I’ll take that as a no,” you confirm with a grin, nuzzling into him. “Feliz cumpleaños, Javi.”

"Gracias, querida."

JAVI SPANISH:

Si, cariño - Yes, baby/darling

Vamos a casa - Let's go home

Feliz Cumpleaños - Happy Birthday

¿Qué voy a hacer contigo? - What am I going to do with you?

Ojos en el camino, señor - Keep your eyes on the road, sir

No te arrepentirás lo prometo - You won't regret it, I promise

Querida - Dear/baby/darling

Sabes que lo hago - You know I do

Mierda - Shit

Ven aquí - Come here

Estas listo? - Are you ready?

No, no pares - No, don't stop

Bésame - Kiss me

Si, así, que bien se siente - Yes, it feels so good

No puedo creer lo bien que se siente - I can't believe how good it feels

No te detengas - Don't stop

Que? - What?

No puedo creerlo - I can't believe it

Sin comentarios - No comment

Gracias, querida - Thank you, darling

Thanks so much for reading! Please consider re-blogging if you enjoyed this story. I'd love to know your thoughts on pegging Javi! Thank you, lovelies! 🖤

MAIN MASTERLIST | JAVIER PEÑA MASTERLIST

#PMAMC 2024 #pmamc #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #javier pena #javier peña #javi pena #javi peña smut #pedro pascal characters #javier pena x reader #jett's writing

[sebscore]

TWITCH WAR

pairing: lando norris x driver!reader (brief cameos of charles and russell george)

warnings: swearing. rumplestiltskin. mention of george being a war criminal. wetting pants.

author’s note: not my best work, but this has been sitting in my drafts for too long. anyway, enjoy 💖

• • • • • • •

''Do I play with Y/N?'' Lando read the question out loud, seeing it in his comment section. ''Well, she always told me she was very good at like any kind of game and that she would kick my ass, but then I played with her and… let's say she's definitely not as good as me.'' The Brit bragged about his own skills, a smirk forming on his face.

He glanced at the incoming replies from the fans, enjoying their reactions. ''She asked to play together a few weeks ago and we did, but ever since then I haven't dared to play with her again,'' he grinned, ''whenever she asks me now, I just go offline.''

''Oh, she's gonna kill me when she sees this.'' He giggled like a schoolgirl.

She did in fact kill him when the clip of him talking shit was sent to her by fans and even other drivers. Not literally, that wouldn't be a good career move, but she took to Twitter to indirectly respond to Lando's ''claims''.

YourUsername: people, don't take the words of twinks seriously 😫

Y/N's clapbacks didn't stop there as she went live on Instagram not too long after Lando's Twitch stream. Fans obviously couldn't help but ask about the British driver.

''Do I still want to play with Lando? Nooo~ I don't want to stream with him anymore, I really don't.'' The grin on her face was a dead giveaway she was only teasing him. ''He's super bad, that Rumplestiltskin.''

''She called me Rumplestiltskin?'' Lando read the comment out loud, his eyebrows furrowed. ''What does that even mean?'' He couldn't really remember where the name came from, so he decided to look it up and was met with the character from Shrek.

He gave the camera an unimpressed look before moving on. ''You guys want to know a fun story about Y/N from our karting days?'' A smirk already appeared on his face.

''She was pushed off track by someone and she pissed her pants because of it.''

''It was water! I didn't wet my pants, oh my god!'' The driver exclaimed on stream, not believing that Lando actually told that story. ''We were like 9 years-old.''

''You know, Y/N, I think I also remember that.'' George chimed in, he had been amused by their little Twitch war ever since they started it.

She rolled her eyes upon George's words. ''Hey! It was probably you who pushed me off the track in the first place, you war criminal!'' Y/N clapped back at him.

''Anyway, Lando shouldn't be speaking at all when he still looks and talks like a 9 year-old.''

''Lando, should we invite Y/N to play with us?'' Charles asked the McLaren driver after seeing countless comments in his chat asking about the female driver.

The Brit loudly sighed, causing the Monégasque to burst out laughing. ''What's wrong, Lando?''

''Because of her, people keep asking me if I've hit puberty yet.'' He said, frustration audible in his voice, much to the entertainment of Charles and everyone else watching him.

Their ''beef'' came to an end when the media had started to pick up on their back-and-forths and tried to make it seem like the two close friends hated each other and that they would become a danger to each other on track.

''Are you worried that the words you and Y/N have exchanged over social media will have an effect on how the two of you perform on track?'' One reporter asked Lando in a press conference.

He shook his head. ''We're just joking around, honestly. We've been friends for a long time and we've always joked around with each other like this, so, no, it won't have an effect on track.'' He politely answered, slightly ticked off by the seriousness of it all.

Y/N had been placed into a different group for the press conference, where she was asked about their ''war''. ''There have been some harsh word exchanges between yourself and Lando Norris, are you two on good terms or is there some sort of bad blood?''

''Yeah, we hate each other,'' her sarcastic tone sticking out, ''that's why we voluntarily spent all that time together when we're not racing.'' Her answer gathered laughs from her fellow drivers and even some reporters.

''Also, when we're on the topic,'' she stated, ''just because Lando hasn't hit puberty, doesn't mean that I haven't.''

#f1 fic #f1 fics #f1 x reader #formula 1 fic #f1 x oc #lando norris x oc #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #formula 1 oc #formula one fics

[changbunnies]

Connected (18+)

♡ Pairing: Royal Knight!Bang Chan x Princess!Reader

♡ Genre: angst, fluff, royal au, historical au, knight x princess au, arranged marriage (for reader), forbidden love, childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining (they are so oblivious)

♡ Word Count: 15.9k (oops lmao)

♡ Summary: Y/N, as princess of the kingdom, is destined to marry for politics and financial gain, but all she wants is to marry for love. Chan, her childhood friend turned royal knight, has to either come to terms with her inevitable marriage, or finally confess the feelings he's been harboring for years.

♡ Warnings: very brief minho x reader, extremely jealous chan, also lowkey possessive chan, (he's not in any toxic way at all but still), reader is implied to be plus size, old timey traditions and expectations of women to suit the setting, i think thats about it ??

♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): petnames (princess (mostly as a title), darling, my love) loss of virginity (both reader and chan are virgins), nipple play, fingering (f receiving), unprotected piv, creampie, overall very soft sex with some shyness and teasing sprinkled in, breeding kink if you squint

♡ Notes: you can also read the story on my a03 here and if you're interested, you can also check out my fic rec and feedback blog @stray-dreams ! and thank you so much for all the love my works have gotten so far, i appreciate it sm !!

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

A sigh passes your lips as you stare out at the sprawling nature before you from up on your balcony. The sight of trees swaying in the wind, flowers blooming towards the sun, and animals skittering about on the earth below always helped to ease your troubled mind. You always found yourself here when the worries of life and your duty proved too much for you. As the kingdom’s heir to the throne, you weren't often afforded the luxury of leaving your castle, or dirtying your soles by prancing in the nearby forest. 

Instead, you often had to settle for the next best thing- simply observing it. Normally that was enough for you, but on days like today, where you were constantly bombarded with responsibility and expectations, you wished you could flee into the forest and never look back. It would be difficult to flee your life, but surely it would be better than this. You were tired of feeling so stifled all the time. 

"All that sighing isn't going to help, Princess," a familiar voice speaks from the doorway of your bedroom. "I know that," you frown, turning to look at your childhood friend turned royal knight with crossed arms and a glare on your face. You know Chan doesn’t mean to add to your frustration, and normally you wouldn’t snap at him over a comment made in jest, but you're really in no mood for it right now. You’ll apologize later when you’re less quick to anger, but you are currently too stuck in your feelings to respond kindly. 

It'd been a week since you were informed of your inevitable marriage, and you still hadn’t come to terms with it to any degree. Your father, the current King, informed you that the eligible men who desired your hand would be arriving later in the month, and how you were expected to be on your best "womanly" behavior when meeting your suitors for the first time. You knew it would happen someday but you still loathed the idea of it.. It made you feel like an object, like a pawn to be used rather than a person with her own thoughts and feelings. 

"My apologies Princess, but you've been really down these past few days. I thought you might enjoy some company," Chan explains with his perfectly rehearsed politeness that you haven't quite gotten used to hearing yet. "Stop calling me Princess when it's just the two of us, it's unnecessary," you complain while Chan looks at you with a playful smile. 

"Very well, Princess," he teases in response, laughing when you scowl at him for it. Chan has been your knight for a little over a year now, and while you did enjoy having him around more often, the tone shift from friend to knight was jarring. There were times where you missed your old dynamic, when he'd speak to you with no pleasantries or titles (though it did often incur the wrath of your attendants for being 'disrespectful' to the princess.)

You never found him disrespectful however; you actually quite liked that he always spoke to you candidly and without pretenses. Even as a kid you'd noticed the way commoners treated you differently from everyone else, and you liked that Chan didn't. Though he was just a child like yourself at the time, and most likely did not realize the impact it had on you, you enjoyed being able to feel like a normal person. 

He was often on the castle grounds due to his parents, his mother a maidservant and his father a horseman. And while he was never supposed to have met you due to the difference in station, you two often found yourselves in each other's path. You learned to ride horses together under his father's tutelage, he would accompany his mother around the castle as she cleaned various rooms, and he’d always wave to you with a goofy smile while you were studying (even if it ended in a scolding from the adults around him.)

You had quickly become fond of him, your only friend in an otherwise lonely world. You can remember fondly the days where he would distract you from your lessons by making silly gestures behind your tutors' backs, and how he’d gift you trinkets from outside the castle’s walls, such as cheap dolls and freshly picked flowers. 

They were “plain” by royal standards, but you still loved them dearly, as they were things you had never had in your life until he brought them to you. He would even bring delicious pastries and fresh bread made by his mother, which had become your favorite things to eat simply because it was so different from everything else you were allowed to have. 

Chan steps onto the balcony, taking his place next to you. He leans against the banister, staring out at the scenery that held your attention moments ago. "I don't want you to get married yet either," he admits after a brief moment of silence. You look at him, taking in the sullen expression on his face. You are initially surprised he looks so sad, allowing you to catch a glimpse at his usually hidden vulnerability.

You know very well that he, like anyone, is capable of feeling a depth of complex emotions, but he rarely shows you that side of himself. You spend so much of your days stressed or tired or daydreaming about being anything other than what you are, so he chooses not to burden you with any feelings he has. You've told him many times that he could, even encouraged him to share with you, but he always said he'd rather focus on making you feel better because that would make him feel better too. 

“You don’t..?” you ask, though you wonder what you are even expecting to hear in response. He’s your best friend and he cares about your feelings, so obviously he doesn’t want to see you go through something you hate, obviously it saddens him to see a friend hurting. But despite yourself, you still hope for his feelings to go beyond that. 

You want to hear him say he cares about your inevitable marriage not as a concerned best friend, but as a man. A man who loves you, a man who wants you, a man who would fight for your hand in marriage against all odds. It's foolish, you know this, but you can’t stop yourself but hoping for it. 

Your heart ignores the logic your brain provides, disregarding that he'll never be allowed to marry you even if he did have romantic feelings for you and was willing to fight against tradition for you. It doesn't matter that he has devoted his life to protecting you, that he's extremely well read or gifted in combat, or that he grew up within the same castle walls that you have. He will always be "beneath you", his merits never good enough, all because he was born to commoners. 

You always hated that. Why do the circumstances of someone's birth have to matter so much? Why does fate have to be decided based on what family you are born into? And you can still remember vividly the day you realized you cared for him as more than just the best friend you grew up with. When he stood before you, handsome in his weathered training armor and practice sword in hand, smiling proudly as he devoted his life to your care, your heart fluttered.

Chan worked hard to be your knight, practiced with his sword to the point of exhaustion, spent countless hours reading about affairs between nations and studying combat techniques, all to be the one who protects you. He dedicated his life to you, to being by your side through everything, even if it meant putting his personal affairs on hold. 

There were times where you still didn’t understand why he sacrificed so much of his freedom for you. The life you lived was so stuffy and restricting, and he could do anything. He could do whatever he wanted with life, live anywhere in the world, choose from a myriad of careers, yet he chose to be stuck in the castle with you for the rest of his youth. 

The day you turned 14, you confessed to him that you were dreading the day you both became adults because you knew your lives would take you different places. Even if he followed in his father’s footsteps and became the castle's horseman, you'd likely rarely, if ever, see him. It was something you thought about a lot, as you were often reminded by your elders of your responsibilities to the kingdom, but that day it was hitting you particularly hard. 

That day sticks firmly in Chan's head as well; he can still remember the way tears pricked the corners of your eyes, the reality of getting older and the responsibilities that were soon to follow already bearing heavily on you. That was the day he decided he’d work hard to always be near you, as he never wanted to see you cry over his separation from you. If there was no reason for him to stay, he would make one. If it meant freedom and choice was taken from him, he was willing to let those things go. If it was for you, it would be worth it.

When you asked him why he decided to become a knight despite the sacrifice and responsibility it entailed, why he was willing to give up so much to stay in the castle with you, he simply smiled at you. “It’s where I am meant to be,” he replied, dimples lighting up his face in an expression so sweet it made your stomach flip. 

You fell in love with him that day. Or maybe you always loved him, and that was the day you fully realized it. That intangible feeling that always lingered whenever you looked at him, that you couldn’t hold and understand but knew was there. It was love, all that time. You knew it then, and you still know it now. Chan is the only person you will ever love. 

He spends the rest of the afternoon comforting you, as he always does when you are feeling unhappy and indignant. Giving you kind words or gentle, comforting silence when you need it, transitioning into his goofy side who makes jokes and does his best to make you laugh as soon as you show that you are feeling better. 

And it does help, but in a way it also makes it worse. Because unbeknownst to him, he’s just reaffirming your love for him. For every gesture that endears you to him, it also makes your heart sink even further. And worse of all, you can’t even be upset about it- because he doesn’t know your feelings, he doesn’t know how his kindness feels akin to a knife in your gut. 

And it’s likely he’ll never know. Because when can you tell him? How can you tell him? It’s not meant to be, and it never will be. For as long as you are royalty, he’ll never be allowed to love you, and you’ll never be allowed to love him. The sooner you accept it the better off you’ll be, but you don’t know if you ever can. 

How do you make yourself stop loving someone so perfect? How do you put aside your feelings, how do you pretend that they never existed in the first place? You’re lost, you’re stuck, and you know nothing will change it. You suppose the best you can do is enjoy the little time you have remaining. Live in the moment with him instead of worrying so much about the future, because once it’s here you won’t be able to get this time back. 

That’s why you smile for him, earnestly. You laugh with him the way you always do, you reminisce about your childhoods, you talk about all your favorite things instead of wallowing in what you hate. You don’t allow yourself to frown or cry until he’s gone for the night, the setting of the sun beckoning him out of your room and to his own. 

You cry as you wash off the day's grime in the bath, you cry as you towel off in front of the mirror, and you cry as you lie in your bed, staring up at the ceiling as you think about all the joy you will never have. Because you will lose Chan before you ever even had him. Never being allowed to hold his hand, to kiss him, to lie with him.. Because he is your knight, and a princess isn’t supposed to fall in love with one. 

It’d been over a month since your suitors first started arriving at the castle to meet you, settling into their guest rooms and (frustratingly) occupying your days. You were as respectful as you were expected to be, but you really didn’t put in any effort to get to know them more deeply. You just weren’t interested in any romantics with them. 

If the situation were different, and these were men you were meeting with the prospect of friendship or strengthening ties between allied kingdoms platonically, you would be much more susceptible to the pleasantries. As it stands now, you can’t put yourself out there for them the way you are expected to. 

Most of them seem nice enough, and for the ones with gentler personalities you do feel bad for your standoff-ish attitude, but showing your disinterest firmly is the best way to not give anyone false hopes. You know you won’t fall in love with any of them, and wouldn’t it be worse to lead them on by having no backbone? 

Sure, you could be a bit nicer, but why would you be? They are all here with the intention to marry you, they all have a goal in mind- to win you over by any means necessary. Even if they had the purest of intentions, it wouldn’t sway you to change your mind so easily. At the end of the day, no matter who is here for a chance at genuine love and who is here for political gain, you are being treated like an object, and it’s something you detest with your entire being. 

Leaving aside your feelings for Chan (which undeniably also plays a part in your disdain for your situation), you still wouldn’t enjoy this process. Maybe it was your own fault for idolizing fairytales and spending your free time daydreaming about what your perfect life would look like, but what can you say? You’re a hopeless romantic, even to a fault, it seems. Is it truly so bad for you to want genuine love with someone? A love that happens organically, unforced by any outside factors pushing for it? 

And now here you are, letting your maids prepare your attire and dress for tonight’s ball, where you will be expected to mingle with and accept the advances of your suitors, even if it is performative in nature. You try your best not to scowl in disapproval when your maids talk excitedly about your “romances” and who they think is most handsome out of your suitors, and who they hope you will choose. 

You wish you could scream out, “I choose none! I don’t want to marry any of them!” You’d gladly let these girls take their pick of the men who came for you. It seems that the fan favorite, as it were, is Sir Minho, the handsome son to Duke Lee in the western lands. Apart from being attractive, he’s well-mannered, compassionate with animals, and skilled in battles of wit. 

If you were being truthful, he was an easy pick. He was easily the most desirable of every suitor, not just from a personal standpoint, but also from a political standpoint. Keeping relations with the west positive would lower chances of revolt or separation into their own independent nation. Yes, if you were smart and not at all stubborn, you would most certainly pick Minho. But stubborn you undeniably were; opinions firm and unbending, resistant to compromise or sacrifice.

And honestly, shouldn’t that be expected? Why wouldn’t the princess, who is capable of having everything she ever wanted, not be selfish when it comes to love? You like to think yourself a reasonable person, one who makes sound decisions and goes through life with a firm sense of rationality. However, when it comes to Chan, all rational thought and decision making seems to leave you, replaced solely by emotion. 

Your heart overtakes you, arguing fiercely with your rational and intelligent brain, as if making the logical, sensible choice would be foolish despite the reality being the opposite. You let out a sigh, that your maids thankfully mistake as one of exhaustion. While you arguably had the easiest job in the room, just sitting around and letting others doll you up, it was still tiring in its own right. 

Layers upon layers of petticoats, chemises, and skirts, tight garters to hold up your stockings, squeezing into a corset and then adding even more layers on top of that.. If the end result wasn’t so gorgeous, you’d absolutely hate this process. And god forbid you needed to use the bathroom at any point- that endeavor in itself was hellish. 

After the grueling task of fitting you into your finest royal blue ensemble, your hair and makeup came next. You begged for it to be on the simpler side, as you would be occupied for hours tonight and really didn't want to worry about keeping it pristine the entire time, and they thankfully obliged the request. There’s a few moments of downtime when they are finished, which thankfully gives you time to breathe and prepare yourself mentally for the night’s festivities. 

There is a knock on the door, which the maids closest to the door don’t hesitate to open. It’s Chan, of course, as it’s his job to come collect you whenever it’s necessary for you to leave your room. That’s another reason this night you’re upset about tonight- you wish you could walk together to the ballroom as a couple, instead of as a knight and princess. “It is time to go, Princess. The guests have begun arriving in the ballroom.” he says, keeping his gaze professional under the watchful eyes of the maids in the room. 

But God, is that hard for him. You're so unbelievably beautiful it makes his heart feel like it's twisting in his chest. He’s lucky that no one in the room seemed to notice the way it stole his breath away, or the way his eyes lingered on you for far longer than they should have before he directed you to follow him out of the door. 

You thank your maids for their help before you depart, and they all say some variation of “have fun!” as you leave the room. “Fun” is doubtful in this scenario, but you’ll certainly try to not be miserable, at least. Try being the keyword- you make no such promises of how things will actually play out. 

You put on the best smile you can manage when you enter the room, letting various guests greet you, briefly indulging them in small talk before Chan helps you move your way past them. You take a seat next to your parents, with Chan standing just a few feet away- a respectable distance as to not intrude on the royal family, but close enough to reach you quickly if something went wrong.  

As is to be expected, sticking close to your parents and away from the dancing doesn’t spare you from any attention. Those who are permitted to speak with the royal family appear to you in a near constant stream, with monotonous questions about how you’ve been and how you feel about your inevitable marriage in tow. God, the night has just begun and you’re already tired. Is it too early to retreat back to the safety of your room? 

You take a quick glance around the ballroom, taking note of all the guests you have an obligation to talk to and who you could feasibly get away with staying away from. Unfortunately, it seems like your evening will be full of talking to people you don't want to deal with. You said you'd try to have a good time, but that didn't mean you had to right this second, did it? You're definitely staying at the table for as long as possible, even if it causes your guests to think of you disfavorably (and if you're lucky, it will.) 

It's probably about two hours into the gathering when your parents seem to grow tired of you doing nothing but sitting with them at the head table. You can tell even before it happens that your mother and father have something to say about your silent protest. "Why aren't you out there, dear?" your mother asks, taking a gentler approach despite the obvious frown of displeasure on her face. Truthfully, she understands your sadness and feels for your plight, but she can’t allow you to wallow in it. You are very clearly sulking, proper manners ignored as you sit with crossed arms and a pout. “Don’t like to dance,” you lie, but everyone near you knows that isn’t true. 

You normally loved dancing. You would attend your dance lessons enthusiastically, and later you would sneak Chan into the ballroom to teach him everything you learned. Although he loved music and followed rhythms easily on his own, his initial steps with you were always awkward. His excuse was that he was nervous to be dancing with the princess, but you would remind him that since being the princess never made him hesitate with you before, it shouldn’t matter now.

In all honesty, a majority of his nerves came from being afraid of making a mistake in front of you. Chan could normally dance very well, often being complimented and told he was a natural at it, but doing it with you made him especially nervous. What if you felt how sweaty his palms were becoming just from having you closer than usual? What if you could hear how loudly his heart was pounding? What if the nerves made him do the steps wrong? 

He really liked you, and he didn’t want to make a fool of himself in your presence. Chan is often goofy, yes, but it was always willfully. He liked making you laugh and smile, but he didn’t want that side of him to be out in that moment. He found himself wanting you to see a different side of him, he wanted to impress you with how easily he picked up what you taught him, he wanted you to compliment him with your sweet voice.

To his own relief, Chan eventually managed to conquer his nerves, and he was able to pick up the steps and lead the dance without making an embarrassment of himself. Soon enough, the two of you would regularly spend hours in the ballroom together, dancing until late into the evening. With no band to play music for you, the both of you would take turns humming melodies, though you always preferred when Chan was the one doing it as his voice was so melodic and beautiful to you. 

With your memories of each shared, secret dance so clear in your mind, how can you dance with any of these men and not think of Chan? How do you look at any of them and not compare their differences? How can you be with them without thinking about how you’d rather be with Chan instead? Even if they were lovely, even if they were without flaw, they weren’t who you wanted to be with. 

You glance at Chan, who has to remain stone faced in these moments. Your parents are aware that you became friends with him well before he was inaugurated into knighthood, but they don’t realize to what extent. They don’t know about the countless hours spent together, how you’d disregard rules to be near him, or how you’d sneak him into spaces he normally wouldn’t be allowed in. He can’t make them aware of how close the two of you truly are by reacting, and you know this well, but you still can't help but seek him out in every moment. 

Noticing you looking at him, Chan shoots you a small look of sympathy before your parents can notice, doing his best to ease you despite the restrictions. He knows you don’t want to do this, and that you hate being scolded and reminded of how “important” it is to have a “good” husband. “Good” meaning having power, or wealth, or a prestigious lineage in this case. You don’t want to care about formalities, traditions, or responsibilities. You don’t want to prioritize superficial qualities or be in a loveless marriage purely for alliance. 

Is it really so terrible for you to just be in love with someone for who they are instead of what they have? You don’t care about what they have to offer or what legacies their families hold. You want to be with the person whose smile lights up your world. You want to be with the person who sacrificed so much just to stay within your realm. You want Chan. 

“Your suitors would love to dance with you,” your father says, “You should at least try to get along with them, don’t be stubborn. You won’t grow to love any of them if you don’t try.” Chan watches your expression change, the mix of anger and sadness bubbling within you becoming increasingly more apparent. He wishes he could rush to your side and help, but he can't. So instead he stands in place, fists clenched in a vain effort to ground himself as he remains frozen to his spot. 

“Of course father,” you say as you stand, biting your tongue so as to not make a scene in the middle of an extravagant ball. Despite your tumultuous feelings, you're not foolish enough to disrespect the king with an audience. “I need a moment, if you’ll allow it,” you say and your father nods, finding it a reasonable enough compromise. 

You bow politely before you go despite how badly you wish you could storm out and give a bitter display of aggression. Chan moves to follow you, (which he would do even if it wasn't his job,) but your mother calls for him to wait a moment. “I’m aware my daughter is unhappy about this, but try to talk some sense into her for me, will you? I doubt she’ll listen to us, upset as she is. She may find it easier to listen to someone unattached to the situation.” 

‘Unattached.’ If only she knew Chan was terribly, terribly attached to the situation- attached to you. “Of course, Your Majesty,” he answers politely, bowing before he steps away to follow your path out of the ballroom. It doesn’t take him long to find you despite his delay leaving; he knows you well enough to know where you prefer to be when upset.

You are outside, sitting on the steps leading to the garden, arms hugging your legs with your head against your knees. You feel trapped, and looking out at nature always helps (even if in this case said nature was still confined within the castle’s walls.) You lift your head when you hear Chan’s footsteps behind you, wiping stray tears from your eyes as he approaches. “Y/N..” he speaks softly, heart tugging at him painfully; he always hated seeing you cry. 

He sits next to you, deciding comforting you was more important than worrying about who would see the two of you being close. If he gets in trouble, so be it; you need your friend right now, not your knight. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you carefully to his side. “I hate this,” you mumble with a trembling voice, burying your face in his shoulder. 

Chan swallows, trying to find the words to say. He hates it too- unbearably so. Every time he pictures you being in love with someone else it makes him physically ill. He doesn’t want to think about how devastated he’ll be hearing you say ‘I love you’ to another man, how excruciating it will be for him to watch from the sidelines while you build a future with someone he can never be. 

He knows his heart will crumble when he sees you make your eternal vows to someone else, so beautiful and demure and forever out of his reach. He made his promise to be your knight for the remainder of his days knowing this is what it would entail, but fuck, it still hurts. Chan has always considered himself a strong and resilient person, and he felt like he could handle this inevitability, but maybe he was naive to think so. 

Nothing could have prepared him for how painful the reality actually was. His mistake wasn’t falling in love with someone unattainable- his mistake was thinking he could survive the heartbreak. In all his life, he’ll never regret falling in love with you or becoming the knight you need, but he’s still human. A selfish human, who wants more than he can be granted, who wants to marry his beloved princess more than any treasure or title in the world. 

Chan does his best to keep his breathing steady, not wanting to alert you that he was affected by this way more than a friend or knight should be. He thinks about what your father said to you shortly before you left the ballroom. ‘You won’t grow to love any of them if you don’t try.’  

As much as he hated to admit it, your father had a point. And he could see why your mother wanted him to make you understand, but did he really have it in him to follow her request? Could he encourage you to try to fall in love with someone else knowing how it’d tear him apart? It’s the last thing he ever wants to do, but devoting his life to you meant he had to put aside selfish desires. He couldn’t let his love for you cloud his judgment, he couldn’t sabotage your chance at happiness to make himself feel better. How can he be a proper knight if he puts his selfish hopes above what is best for you in the long run? 

“Listen.. I know you might not want to hear this but.. Your parents have a point. You should get to know them better,” Chan speaks cautiously, trying to prepare for whatever reaction you might have. It kills him to say it, not just because he doesn’t want to see you with someone else, but also because he knows you won’t want to hear this from him. He watches you freeze, staring at him in something akin to saddened disbelief.

You feel as if your cracked heart has now completely shattered. If there was any doubt before, now you know. Chan doesn’t love you the way you love him. He wouldn’t be okay with this if he loved you, he wouldn’t want to see you marry someone if he wanted you the way you want him. Your feelings have always been one sided. You swallow, trying not to cry any more than you already have or show how hurt that made you feel. 

“So you agree with them then..” your voice is quiet and defeated. What do you even say..? Should you admit that one of the reasons this is so hard for you is because you’re in love with him? Would that even change anything? You always knew being in love with him was a fool’s endeavor, and now that truth was solidified. 

“It’s not that. You know I don't want you to, it’s just.. I know you’re miserable right now. And the reality is that you’ll have to marry one of them. If you get to know them and grow to love one of them, it’d be better for you. The way things are now, you’ll never be happy, and that's all I want for you.. Just to be happy,” he says, trying his best to show you how earnest he is.

He’s so fucking in love with you, of course he doesn’t want to see you marry someone else, it’s the last thing he ever wants. He doesn’t want to watch you fall in love with one of them, he doesn’t want to sit on the sidelines while you give your love to someone else, but he can’t keep denying the reality before him. Despite how selfish he is, he can’t put himself and what he wants above you.

And putting those selfish desires aside, he just wants you to have a good, happy life, even if that happiness comes from someone else. No matter how badly he wishes he could be the one you spend your forever with, it’s not the life that is meant for him. He has to come to terms with that, now more than ever. He has to, because it'll break him apart if he doesn't. 

You look at him now, and as much as it hurts, you can see the sincerity. Even though it’s not what you wanted to hear, you know how much he cares about you. Even now, he’s looking out for you and trying his best. Maybe he doesn't love you the way you love him, but it is a form of love nonetheless. His actions have never shown you anything different, and even if it’s not the sort of romantic love you want it to be, you should be happy with what you already have with him.

You separate yourself from his gentle hold, standing quickly as you do your best to wipe your tears without ruining your makeup any further. “You’re right. I’ll try,” you say, forcing yourself to find the resolve you desperately need to get this night over with. He smiles at you, albeit strained as he suffers with his own tumultuous emotions, and rises to his feet as well. 

Chan gives you one last gesture of comfort, a gentle squeeze to your hand, before he leads you back to the ballroom where everyone waits for you to return. “Are you ready?” He asks when you are both stopped in front of the doors. You sigh, taking just a small moment before you nod and allow yourself to enter the bustling room. You’re not ready, but it will never get any easier, so you suppose you’ll just have to accept that and get on with it regardless.

You leave Chan standing with your parents, where he can still have you in his line of sight while not intruding upon anything you need to do. You suppose if you’re really going to commit to this, you should go with the obvious choice- Lee Minho. It doesn’t take you long to spot him either; all you had to do was follow the gaze of infatuated maids to see him standing in a bubble with other high society guests your father invited to the event. 

“Sir Minho, are you occupied?” you ask as you step forward to him, the crowd that had gathered around him easily dissipating to allow the princess closer to her suitor. “Of course not, Princess. Would you like to dance?” he smiles politely as he holds out his arm for you, and you accept it, letting him lead you toward the center of the ballroom. 

Another thing you suppose you should do if you’re really going to commit to this is apologize. You doubt anything will genuinely come of it on your part, but it’d be best to not have a marriage start off with bitterness in your heart if it does miraculously develop into something more. Honestly you’d rather scream and kick than offer an apology you don’t entirely mean but.. What other option is there at this point? "Listen, I'm sorry for how cold I've been towards you.. It's not due to any fault of your own, it's just.."

You pause briefly, trying to think of how best to continue that line of dialogue, but Minho speaks up before you can. “It’s just that you are being forced into a marriage you don’t want?" Your eyes widen, mouth opening and closing as you desperately try to find a way to dismiss his accurate assessment. Were you that transparent? 'Of course you were, idiot,' you curse yourself. Maybe you should've practiced subtlety.

"I get it. You aren’t the only one unhappy about this,” he continues, further surprising you. He chuckles at your shocked expression, amusement in his voice. “What, is that hard to believe?” "I.. I guess I just assumed everyone is here because they want to be. It didn’t occur to me that you would be in a similar situation to myself,” you answer truthfully. Maybe you would have realized sooner if you hadn't been so stuck in your ways, so quick to ignore and dismiss every suitor that came close to you. 

“I don’t blame you for thinking that. I’m sure most of the men are here because they want to be. I consider myself an outlier,” Minho speaks nonchalantly, but now that you are really looking at him, you can tell he is just as unhappy to be forced into this as you are. You also get the impression that he’s good at keeping a cool exterior, likely due to years of experience at suppressing his actual desires, the same as you.

“Is there someone else? Someone you love, back at home?” you ask, and Minho smiles sadly as he nods. “There is. They mean the world to me. I asked them to wait for me, I told them I wouldn’t leave them but.. I don’t know what will happen, if I'm being honest.” He tries to mask how upset he is to admit that, but you can see it. Maybe you’d be as oblivious to it as everyone else seemed to be if you weren’t dealing with similar emotions. You feel a strange sort of kinship with him now, realizing how parallel your situations seem to be. “I’ll make sure you can be reunited. I may not have much power as it stands now, but I can do that at least.”

Minho smiles at your reply, but shakes his head, as if your act of kindness would be futile. “I appreciate the sentiment, but it would only be temporary. I’m sure even if I don’t marry you, my father will just send me off to another castle to find a spouse. It’s all he cares about.” You frown, about to speak reassurances or some other comforting statement, but he stops you before you can. “What about you, Princess? Is there someone you love?” Minho asks, easily shifting the focus off of himself. 

You hesitate a moment, debating on whether it would be wise for you to talk about. But, Minho already shared with you even if it could be a risk for him to admit, so.. You decide to be honest. “There is. He.. is the best person I've ever known.” 

“I thought so. Not to sound overconfident, but most women fall at their feet for a chance to speak with me,” Minho smirks and you laugh, the first genuine laugh you’ve had all evening. “Well, you are handsome. I may love someone else, but I’m not blind.” Your reply makes Minho laugh as well, the conversation turning into something you can actually enjoy.

“It’s good to know the Princess isn’t rejecting me for my looks. I can sleep assured about my handsome features tonight,” he jokes, and if you weren’t in public you’d most certainly slap him on the arm. You didn't expect his personality to be what it is, but you suppose that's one of the charms that draws people to him.

“The person you love- do they know how you feel?” He asks after a beat, and you frown, trying not to let too much emotion out as you speak. “I’ve never told him, nor my parents.. I’ve wanted to, but.. I’m scared he won’t return my feelings, and.. He was born a commoner, and people won’t approve of that.” Unconsciously, your gaze shifts away from Minho and turns towards Chan. 

Minho notices, of course, and follows your gaze, seeing the way Chan is overtly staring at the pair of you dancing. Oh, he is in love with you, if the way he’s staring daggers into Minho is any indication. He almost wants to laugh at how oblivious you seem to be about it, but he also sympathizes. He was there once- afraid to confess, afraid of what the reaction would be. And even now he’s still afraid of how his father will react if he ever confesses to his hidden relationship, so he’d be a hypocrite to tell you to not worry about it. 

But at the very least, he can be on your side. He can be a friend, an encouraging presence, a person who understands what you are going through. “I think you should tell him how you feel. Even if things don’t turn out how you hope, at least you tried. I think that’s better than having never tried at all, and living with regrets.” 

Honestly, he hopes you do confess your feeling, because he feels like he might burst into flames any second if your knight keeps staring at him with fire in his eyes. He’s so obvious, Minho isn’t sure how everyone else seems oblivious to it. But maybe he only recognizes that look in his eyes because he was there himself not too long ago, when others made advances on the person he loves most. 

There’s a brief moment of silence as you contemplate Minho’s words. What is better? Accepting your fate as it is now and never telling a soul how you feel about Chan, or confessing your feelings and experiencing what it’s like to openly love Chan, only to have it ripped away from you when your family doesn’t approve? You really don’t know.. 

“Hey, if it doesn’t work out, maybe we do get married and act as each other’s cover,” he says jokingly, hoping it can make you feel comforted to some degree once he notices you being trapped in thought about what to do next. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” you say with a small laugh, “Though if there is anyone I’d choose to be in a fake marriage with, it’d have to be you.”

Honestly, despite the unorthodox way it came to pass, it felt good to talk about your feelings for Chan. You didn’t have anyone to talk to about them, always keeping them completely to yourself. And you felt like you had a real friendship with Minho blossoming, one that could be maintained for years to come. “I enjoy your company. Platonically, of course,” you say with a smile. 

“As do I, Princess,” he smiles back, “Want to cheer to a good friendship?” “Let’s!” You say enthusiastically, letting your dance come to a close and allowing him to lead you to toast refreshments. 

If there was ever a time in Chan’s life he wishes he could disregard everything he’d ever been taught about rules and decency, it was now. He’s never felt so bitter in his entire life, the first time he’s ever felt spiteful at the unfairness of his situation. 

“Thank you for talking to her, she looks to be enjoying herself much more now,” the queen says with delight as she leans towards Chan, ensuring that he hears her thanks and effectively rubbing salt into his open wound. “..Yes, she does,” Chan says, having to put effort into sounding anything other than gutted. The jealousy sizzling in his veins, envious desire stuck like bile in his throat.

He knows you well enough to know what a genuine smile looks like on you. He recognizes your body language, can see all the minute and subtle changes. It makes him physically ill, watching you be so happy with a man he knows you are likely to marry. Chan knew he was selfish, but he never realized how jealous he was capable of being. 

It was a luxury he didn’t realize he had- never having to see you in the arms of someone else. Sure, it was bound to happen, and he assumed he would be devastated when it inevitably occurred, but this? This all encompassing jealousy, this unadulterated greed- he doesn’t know how to process it, he doesn’t know how to calm himself down or mask it.

A realization zaps him suddenly, shocking his system as the feeling settles over him. He can’t let you go, he can’t put his feelings aside the way he thought he could. He’s not as strong as he thought he was, not as mature or as reasonable as he always thought himself to be. He can’t watch you be with someone else and be okay. If this is how he reacts to a situation so small, how will he feel when you actually marry?  

He’s fucked. Truly, unequivocally fucked.

His body and mind scream at him to act, to do something, do anything, but what is there for him to try? What can he do that isn’t hopeless? No, even if it is hopeless, even if it doesn't change a single thing, he has to regardless. That’s what every nerve in his body screams at him- if there was ever a time for him to conjure his bravery and win you over, it was now.

You breathe a sigh of relief when the night's festivities finally draw to close, eager to finally relax after hours of dancing and talking. Minho made the night more bearable at least; it was much easier to get through the evening when you had a friend to cling to and keep a good deal of your other suitors at bay. As soon as you finished bidding your goodbyes to the guests that were in attendance, you rushed over to Chan so he could finally lead you back to the privacy of your room.

“Princess.. I’m sure you’re tired, but can you wait for me here for a bit..?” Chan asks, hoping the nerves he feels aren't being conveyed in his voice or facial expression. You tilt your head, slightly confused but agreeing anyways. You really have no reason not to after all, especially if it’s a request from Chan of all people. He smiles and thanks you, running off quickly while promising he wouldn’t take too long.

You stand in the center of the ballroom alone, wondering what on earth Chan is having you wait here for. He could also get in trouble for leaving you alone here without anyone to watch over you, but whatever he has planned must be worth the risk he’s taking.. Is he trying to make sure no one is going to come back so that the two of you can dance together?

The thought makes you excited if you're being honest- you always love dancing with Chan, but you hadn't had many opportunities to after he began training to be a knight. And you’d happily do so if he wanted to, even if your feet were screaming at you from exhaustion. You also have to admit, you enjoy the idea that after watching you dance all day, Chan wanted to have one with you too, even if it had to be once the event was over and within privacy. 

You wait as patiently as you possibly can, watching the doors to the ballroom, eagerly waiting for them to open. And when they do, and your eyes fall on Chan entering dressed in what is possibly the most beautiful suit you've ever seen, your heart feels like it's going to burst. "You stayed," he smiles as he steps closer, his dimples on full display. His unruly hair that normally falls over his face has been tamed enough to show his features more clearly, the full extent of his handsome face on display just for you.

“C-Chan, you- I, wow, you look-” You try to speak but you stumble over your words, his beauty leaving you even more speechless when viewed up close. It really is the most beautiful suit you've ever laid eyes on. Or maybe you only think so because he is the one wearing it? Either way, he looks so incredibly handsome that you feel almost dazed, your brain quickly malfunctioning as you stare at him.

Truthfully, he had to save his salary for months to afford a suit this nice. You lived in a world of extravagant gowns and beautiful jewelry, and he wanted to look like he belonged with you, even if it was just this one time. You don't care about aesthetics, he knows that, but it's still something he wanted to do. Looking at him the way you are now, he knows it was all worth it.

He always wanted to belong in your world, to look like someone that a princess could be with. Soon enough, you’ll have to decide which of your suitors to marry, and on that day he will lose you. If this is the last opportunity he has to share a dance with you, then he wants to make the most of it. Even if it's just for this short moment, he'd like you to see him as something more than a friend or knight.

He wants to live in a bubble where it’s just you and him, where he can show you the side of himself he always wanted you to see. A bubble where only the two of you exist, where everything but each other is background noise. His every moment, all he sees is you, and he wants to be the only one you see in turn. No one in your eyes but him, his every word hanging in your ears and gesture embedding in your heart. He will allow himself this final selfish act before he lets you go, before he has to bury his feelings and lock them away for good. He will dance with you not as your best friend, your knight, or your student who is still learning the steps, but as a man in love with his princess. 

“May I have this dance, Princess?” Chan asks, smiling up at you as he bows, holding out his hand to you. You feel like your brain is short circuiting, all dance etiquette and rules leaving your mind as you stare at him. Your face has turned bright pink and your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest, but you manage to nod and let your hand reach for his. How will you even survive this dance when he’s smiling at you like that while looking so devastatingly handsome? 

Despite the glaring fact that all your knowledge is lost on you as he holds you closer, he leads you through your daze well. Humming melodies with his beautiful voice while he guides you through the steps- you feel like you’re in a dream. He’s looking at you so intently, smiling so charmingly between melodies, you feel like you’re melting. His eyes are sparkling with an emotion you’ve never seen on him before. 

No, that’s not true. You have seen it. Fleetingly, in quick moments where it would flash on his features, a moment so small you’d miss it if you blinked. Moments like now, where it was just the two of you, free to be yourselves, to talk and laugh and dance with no restriction. Every time you noticed that look in his eyes, his expression would change in an instant, or he’d turn his face away and not let your eyes linger on it. 

Affection? Care? Love? Is that the feeling that shows on his face when he looks at you? Is love the emotion that always makes him smile bashfully before he looks away from you? The one you sometimes catch, but is gone before you can really commit it to your memory? This is the first time you’ve been granted the pleasure of seeing it on his face for more than a few seconds, and it makes goosebumps erupt on your skin. 

All you can do is stare as he leads you through the dance, the entirety of his being capturing your undivided attention. A shyness bubbles underneath the surface, neither of you used to staring at one another so overtly, but you couldn’t possibly turn your gazes away. You decide that if you did somehow fall asleep at some point and this is a dream, that you’ll enjoy it for all its worth. 

You don’t know how he feels about you, really. At best you can guess, you can hope, but there’s no way for you to truly know. But what you do know is how you feel about him, and that’s enough, you think. It’s enough to make this moment the most special you’ve ever shared. It’s enough to lift up the shattered fragments of your heart and reconstruct them into something beautiful and new. Does he love you as much as you love him? Regardless of the answer, you’ll never forget how you feel right now. A love beyond words, a happiness that transcends everything else. 

Chan, who was feeling confident until now, begins to feel a stutter in his heart. He wanted to impress you, to show you the most ideal side of himself, to make you see him, really see him, in the way he desired to be seen. But now that you are looking at him with such ardor in your eyes, with his hands on your waist and your arms around his neck, he feels like his heart could burst. Was he once again naive to think he could put his feelings to rest after this? Foolish to believe that this moment would be enough for him to part from you satisfied with what little he had? 

Yes, he definitely was. Because the way you look at him now, he knows he can never go back to how things were before. He will want to see it again and again, paired with your sweet smile and cute mannerisms. Again, he realizes he's selfish. He doesn’t want you to look at anyone else this way, to give anyone else your affection, to smile at them the way you do at him. For better or worse, you’ll be there, in every thing he does and in every thought he has. 

Most selfish of all, he wants to kiss you so badly, to claim you as his. He wants to pull you even closer, to feel your warmth against him, to tell you that you are all he ever has, and ever will, see. It’s always been you that lights up his world, always been you that gives fire to his ambitions, always you that makes his heart race and palms clam up. Since he was a child, for as long as he can remember until now, you were his everything. You became his world, everything he does revolving around you, forever drawn to you.

Before he can stop himself, his lips are on yours, connecting with you in the way he’s always dreamed of. There’s no time for him to rationalize his choice or scold himself for giving in to his selfishness. Chan has always been weak when it comes to you, after all. Unconsciously, his hands hold you a bit tighter, though he himself is unsure whether that’s because he’s afraid to let you go or because it just feels right to have you in his grasp while he kisses you.

You blink in surprise, time feeling like it has slowed to a complete stop. You feel like the air has been knocked out of you, your brain desperately trying to catch up with reality and make sense of its own racing thoughts. When Chan pulls back, you can see a panic forming in his eyes, apologies lingering on his lips. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I-I shouldn’t have, I-” 

You pull him back to you before he can continue to ramble, continuing the kiss he started. He can’t regret this, can’t second guess letting the moment take him over; you won’t let him. You want to be lost with him, enveloped in his embrace and consumed by his touch, damn the consequences. You don’t care who catches you, you don’t care about what punishment either of you could receive; this is all you’ve ever wanted for so, so long. 

And maybe you should care, maybe you should stop him, stop yourself, but you refuse. If pushing him away is right, then you’d rather be wrong. His world may revolve around you, but yours revolves around him just as much. You can’t live without him, can’t bear to be apart from him. You want to stay with him, even if it causes everything else around you to crumble. 

You’re both breathless by the time you separate, his eyes searching over your face desperately for any sign of hesitation, because once he really has you, he’s never letting you go. “Princess, Y/N, I-” He pauses, words lodged in his throat, but his eyes convey everything. You see it, the clearest that you ever have.

“Do you love me?” You ask, watching intently as his face heats up all the way to his ears. “Please tell me. I love you, and I need to hear you say you love me too,” you all but plead, watching him swallow as he tries to conjure the words he wants to say. He kissed you, so he can’t really deny it, but admitting it could make life even more difficult for you. Chan knows you well enough to know you’ll fight against your parents wishes, that you’d abandon your life here if it called for it, but can he let you do that? 

This is the last chance he has to listen to reason and walk away, his last chance to bury his emotions down deep, his last chance to use even just a modicum of self control.. But no, that's not what he wants to do. Selfish, selfish, selfish. That’s all he’s ever been with you, and maybe all he ever will be. Because as much as he logically knows he should let you go, he just can’t. Because the thought of anyone other than him kissing you fills him with dread. Because even if it makes your reality harder, it’s still all he wants. 

All along, his answer has been there. He can’t turn away from you, and you won’t let him. Both of you are stubborn in your wants, both of you pulling to each other like magnets, unable to be drawn apart. That’s what makes you perfect for him, he supposes. You're both a pair of reckless fools, willing to throw everything away for the other person. How can his answer be any different, especially when you’re looking up at him like this? Desperate to hear his answer, desperate to be loved by him and him alone. 

“I love you. I always have, from the very beginning,” Chan confesses, “I know it’s wrong, I know I’m not supposed to love you, and I’ve tried to hold it back but.. I can’t stand watching from the sidelines anymore, I can't stand the thought of you being with someone else. I love you, and I want to be the one who spends his life with you.”

‘I’m not supposed to love you.’ You hate that he had that thought, but you understand why. No matter how close you became, even when he never treated you any differently from anyone else, he wasn’t oblivious to your difference in station. Neither of you ever let your circumstances affect your friendship, but that didn’t mean the difference between you wasn’t still there. 

He recognized long ago that someone of his birth wasn’t meant to be with a princess, and he tried his best not to let his feelings for you show. You understood now too, why he became your knight despite all that it meant. Because he loved you, and that was the only way he could guarantee he would always be beside you. If he couldn't be your husband, that was the next best thing. 

"If there is anyone in this world who deserves to marry me, it's you. It's always been you, I've never wanted anyone else," you say with full sincerity. There’s no one else you would ever pick, no one else you’d ever give your life to. No matter how much time passes, how your life changes and how far apart you may end up, the love you have for your best friend, your knight, will always remain.

He kisses you again, with all his love and affection poured into it. Years worth of repressed feelings bubbling to the surface like a wellspring. His self restraint dissolves, kissing you over and over again as if his life depends on the repetition of the action. He holds you tightly, squeezing you closely to him, in a gesture that is as full of desire as it is love.

You’re both breathless when he finally allows you to separate, lips swollen and red from the continued use. You lost track of time, having no idea how much or how little the minutes have passed. All you know is Chan’s all encompassing presence, and finally knowing the feeling of his lips against yours. You don’t want the night to end here, you realize. You don’t want to return to your room and carry on tomorrow as if this never happened. You don’t want to pretend that you’re not impossibly in love with him, you don’t want to pretend you don’t know how his body feels pressed against yours, or how it feels to have his lips on you.

“Take me to your room, Channie,” you plead, and he swallows, your request making his heart race impossibly fast. The majority of knights live in barracks, but as a royal knight in charge of the princess’ protection, his room lies close to yours, separated only by a few halls. But despite the relatively close proximity, you’ve never actually been to Chan’s room before due to the risk. Even with your friendship being apparent, going directly to his quarters and staying for a prolonged time ran the risk of spreading untoward rumors. 

For royalty, their reputation is of the utmost importance, and while you didn’t care what people said behind your back, it was still something you had to be careful of for the sake of Chan himself. Even if you could easily recover from rumors, Chan wouldn’t be afforded that same luxury- it would undoubtedly follow him everywhere. And this led to him often being in your room, using the pretense of his knighthood to enter your space and have private conversations and talk like friends, the way you did before he became your knight. But that was always during the daytime, and with other knights still standing out in the hall. If those same knights saw him enter your room with you during the night, and not come back out until morning, it would certainly raise suspicions. Really, no matter what the two of you do tonight, there is risk, the probability of consequences you can’t come back from higher than it’s ever been.

“Are you sure..?” He asks, clearly worried about what could happen as a result. He wants to be with you, of course he does, but if it’s found out you stayed with him in his room for an entire night, the consequences wouldn’t be pretty. He needs to know you understand that, needs to know you want to be with him regardless of what could happen afterwards. You nod, resolve clear as you hold his hand tighter.

You were aware of the risks, but your love for him outweighed the concern. If anyone wanted to question you about being away from your room during the night, you had the confidence you needed now to fight for what you want. Now that you know he returns your feelings, you won’t let anyone get in the way of keeping you together, you’ll fight for it with all you have. And besides that, you're a princess. You were raised with the belief that the world was in the palm of your hands, so shouldn't you be allowed to have the things you want?

“I’ve thought about this a million times, Chan, I’m sure,” you tell him. Nothing will deter you from being with him- not anymore. “A million times, huh?” He teases with a smile as he pulls you along with him to exit the ballroom, his playful side coming back out as he leads you out to the hall and in the direction of his room. “Shut up,” you smile shyly as you slap his arm, a blush creeping across your face.

You have to suppress the giggle that threatens to leave you as you wind the halls together, a nostalgic sort of feeling welling in you despite this being the first time you are sneaking to his room like this. You snuck him into so many spaces, always sharing fond moments with him in secrecy, and really this is just an extension of that. The roles may be reversed in this instance, but the way you hold each other's hand and smile at each other is the same. The way you speak in hushed voices, the way you contain your gleeful giggles and the way you look at each other with pure joy, it's all the same.

When you reach his room, he ushers you in the door first, following behind swiftly and locking the door behind himself. “Just a moment,” he speaks softly as he moves carefully past you, lighting the candles he has on his nightstand. You use the dim light to survey your surroundings (as much as is possible, anyways,) taking note of all the things that make his space different from yours. 

Chan watches you with subtle amusement; his room really isn’t anything special, but you’re looking around it as if it’s the most interesting thing you could ever see. (And to be fair, it is a stark contrast from the luxurious space you’re used to living in.) His space, while decently sized, still pales in comparison to the size of your room. His furniture is much less exuberant in style, and bed significantly smaller than your own. But you like it better that way, you think- it feels homey. 

There’s a moment of silence that follows, not necessarily awkward, but rather hesitant as you turn your attention back to Chan. He’s sitting on his bed, looking incredibly handsome even in the dim candle light. Or did that add to it? You aren’t really sure. All you really know is that the way the subtle illumination and shadows frame his face makes your stomach twist. He really is way too handsome for his own good. 

Cautiously, you sit next to him, taking his appearance in more closely (despite the way it makes your heart feel like it’s going to implode.) He looks at you as well, taking you in just as attentively. Now that he can freely gaze at you without restriction, he wants to commit you to his memory. He wants to know your every blemish, every freckle and every line. 

You’re so impossibly beautiful- you could appear to him covered in grime and wearing tattered rags and he’d still think you were the most gorgeous thing he’d ever laid eyes on. Has he ever told you that? No, he doesn’t think he has. Every time he was awed by you, he’d look away before you could notice his blatant stare, never commenting outwardly on how incredible he thought you were. 

“Can I kiss you again?” Chan asks tentatively, eyes full of eager trepidation. It may be beyond his capabilities to tell you how gorgeous you are, but he can show you. You nod, a small "yes" leaving your lips. His hands seek you out first, resting themselves on your waist before he kisses you again. It’s a slow, sensual kiss, one that leaves you full of butterflies. All the romance novels you read couldn't have prepared you for how it actually feels to be in the moment, for how it feels to have his hands holding you firmly as he kisses you. 

You want to move without restriction, you want to feel him closer, want to feel his touch on your bare skin. You separate, Chan watching you curiously as your face heats up in preparation for what you intend to ask. “Help me take off my dress?” “W-What?” Chan stutters, bright red blush traveling from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. Did he hear you correctly? He’s certainly mistaken, right? “I-I mean, unless you think I should keep it on for the rest of the night..?” 

“N-No, right, of course not,” he says, swallowing as he watches you rise from the bed. He follows, hands trembling as watches you turn your back to him, waiting for him to help you untie your corset. He reaches out slowly, untying it as carefully as he can despite his shaking hands. 

The layers of your dress follow rather quickly after that, eager to get all the extra weight off your body and allow yourself to feel Chan's touch directly. It's not until you're at the final layer that you feel shyness creep back on you, Chan's hand stilling on your shoulders as his own nerves pick up as well. 

When he pulls it down, you'll be strictly in your underwear, the most exposed you've ever been to a man in your entire life. But as much as it makes you shy, it excites you almost equally as much. You turn around now, so that your back is no longer facing him. You cross your arms, placing your hands on top of his, looking up at his face as you guide his hands down your arms, pulling your dress down along with it.

He swallows, eyes following the path your hands lead him on, his face easily the hottest it's ever been in his entire life. You lower your arms once you are no longer able to guide his hands, letting the last piece of fabric fall to the floor around your feet. 

Fuck, he really should be looking at you respectfully, but it feels impossible. You are standing in front of him in nothing but your underwear, and you encouraged it, guided him to remove your clothing with your own hands. God, you're going to ruin him.

"Can I?" You ask as you rest your hands on his chest, the buttons of his suit easily within your reach, ready to undo them the moment he gives his approval. He does so easily, even helping you with the buttons and letting it fall to the floor the same way you did with your dress. 

You watch as he pulls the undershirt over his head, tossing it to the floor with everything else. Your eyes scan his torso, face heating up as you take in his toned physique. You assumed he was strong given his status, but you've never actually seen the proof of it until now. You'd be embarrassed for blatantly staring if not for the fact that he'd done the same to you just moments ago. It's only fair to stare at him as much as he stares at you- tit for tat, if you will. 

Chan's hands reach for his pants now, but he stops before he proceeds with removing them, looking at you as if to ask if it's okay with you before he does. Well, if the eager glint in your eye is anything to go by, you certainly want him to. He pulls them down easily after gaining your approval, kicking them off the rest of the way, (perhaps a bit unceremoniously, given the unprecedented circumstances,) not worrying at all about where they land.

You look at each other, an electric tension filling the space between you. The juxtaposition between the bashfulness and the desire leaving you temporarily stuck in place, a silent battle being waged between ‘should I act, or shouldn’t I?’

It’s typical for the man to make the first move in situations like this, isn’t it? But since when have you adhered to the stereotypical things that were expected of you? You hesitated before now out of fear- fear of what could happen to Chan and fear of your feelings being unrequited, but the minute he laid his feelings out for you, you decided there was no more time for fear, no time for hesitation. 

When you want something, you get it, and what you want right now more than anything is Chan, simple as that. You lay back on his bed now as if you own it, looking so relaxed, so assured, as you prop yourself up on your elbows and wait for him to return to your side. Fuck, do you even know what you're doing to him?

He slots himself between your legs, his body weight pressing down on you when he lowers himself to kiss you again. Your torso falls back against the bed when you lift your arms to hold his face in your hands, not letting the kiss break and dragging him back with you. His hands travel up and down your sides, always stopping just under the line of the fabric containing your breasts. 

He pulls away from your lips, looking at you closely as he lets his thumbs under the fabric ever so slightly. He’s silently asking for permission again, you realize, searching your eyes for any semblance of hesitation or regret. There’s none to be found, of course- all you feel is desire, is love. You want this as badly as he does, undeniably so. 

He pulls it up slowly, carefully, and you lift your back off the bed, allowing him to take it off you completely. You watch him swallow as he stares down at you, taking in the unfamiliar sight of your exposed chest. He’ll never admit how many times he envisioned this moment in his mind, but the reality is much better than anything his mind could have conjured up. 

When Chan finally tears his eyes away to look at your face again, you offer him a smile, one that makes his heart stutter. It’s soft, yet completely radiant, and patient. There’s no need for you to rush him along, nor do you judge him for taking his time to look you over. When it’s something special, something you’ve both wanted for so long, with more intensity than you can express, why would you rush? It should be savored, with even the smallest of details committed to memory. 

“I love you,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss you for what feels like the millionth time. His hands cup your breasts, feeling the weight of them in his palms for the first time, squeezing (gently, of course,) every so often. When the calloused pads of his thumbs rub over your nipples for the first time, and you let out the most sinfully sweet noise he’s ever heard, he’s done for. 

He wants- no, needs, to hear it again. Again, and again, and again, all for him, only ever for him. The small, soft gasps, the shuddering breaths, the shiver that runs along the entirety of your body when he touches you- it’s addictive, so terribly addictive. “Channie-” you whine into his mouth, and he has to suppress the groan that threatens to leave his throat in response.

“Again,” he says as he begins to trail kisses beneath your ear and down the expanse of your neck, “Say my name again.” You oblige his request easily, each small whine turning into a soft moan of his name. Your voice, so dovelike, its sweetness all encompassing, commandeering all his senses. His hands travel lower, rubbing over the plush territory of your thighs, his fingers always coming dangerously close to your center before being taken away.  

He chuckles when you huff, a small pout on your lips that he finds adorable. He doesn’t mean to tease, but he has to admit he likes the reaction it grants him. “What’s wrong, darling? I didn’t think you were so impatient,” Chan says with an amused tilt in his voice, because at the end of the day, beneath all the shyness and desire that was at the forefront, he is still the playful person he’s always been. 

“Don’t be mean, Channie,” you all but grumble, your pout growing larger. It’s not like you’re trying to rush anything, it’s just.. He knows what he's doing, and he’s doing it on purpose! Making you all needy for his touch, being so close to where you want him but not actually granting it to you. 

He smiles, that dazzling one that makes your stomach twist, confirming that he does indeed know he’s tormenting you on purpose. “Apologies, my love. You’re just so cute when you pout.” You would definitely punch him if the statement didn’t make butterflies erupt in your gut. “Chan, please,” you shamelessly whine, and oh, how that instantly turns the tables back in your favor.

He’ll do anything for you, whatever you ask, everything he can offer, it’s yours. You realize that, don’t you? That even if he teases, even if he pretends he’s fine and not completely and utterly enamored by you, he can never actually resist you. “Tell me what you want, Princess. Anything you want, it’s yours. Anything.” 

“I-I-” you start, but quickly stumble over your words. The way he’s looking at you, waiting with bated breath for your answer, eyes eager and so willing to give you his all- it sends a shiver down your spine. You swallow, willing your racing heart to calm so you can speak properly. “I want.. To feel you. Inside me.”

Chan’s breath catches in his throat, cock twitching unceremoniously in response. He wants to, it’d be pointless to pretend he doesn’t, but.. “Are- are you sure?” he asks, the question laced with genuine care despite how eager he is for you to say yes. He wants to care for you, wants to make love to you, to claim you as his in the sweetest of ways, but he doesn’t want you to move faster than you’re ready for. 

Even if your confessions were a long time coming, even though there was years worth of yearning and desire, it’s still a lot to entrust yourself to someone like that. To trust them wholeheartedly, to grant them such pleasure and believe that they’ll take care of you in return. And he needs to know that you understand the risks and the changes it will bring, and you aren’t saying it out of some spur of the moment obligation to please him. Because he’ll be happy, no matter how long he has to wait.

“Channie,” you place your hands on his face, forcing his eyes to stay locked on your own, “I love you so much. I want to do this with you.” You can feel his face heat up under your fingers, but he smiles- one that is shy, but at the same time full of unfiltered joy. Chan leans down to kiss you once more, showing you all the love and care that he can’t express with his words. 

His hands resume their original path, tracing up and down your thighs for a few moments before he finally hooks his fingers into your underwear. He pulls them down slowly, not with the intent to tease you this time, but because he knows when he finally sees what is waiting for him underneath the fabric his heart is going to beat out of his chest. 

You adjust your legs position to make the removal easier, watching Chan with nervous excitement. It is scary, you admit, being so exposed and vulnerable in front of someone else, but there is no one else in the world you trust more. No one but Chan makes you feel this safe and secure, and he’s shown you over and over how much love he carries for you. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he admits for the first time aloud. Would it be cliche to compare you to a goddess? Maybe, but that’s the only thing that comes even remotely close to conveying how alluring he thinks you are. More radiant than even Aphrodite herself, with even the wonders of the world paling in comparison to you. “Gonna make you feel so good, I promise.”

You watch him bring his hands to his own underwear, slipping them off with relative ease before settling himself comfortably between your legs. “I need to get you ready, okay darling? And then I promise, I’ll give you everything you want,” Chan speaks softly and you nod, entrusting yourself to him completely. 

He’s never done this before, so he follows his instinct, doing whatever feels right in the moment. His fingers rub carefully between your folds, spreading around the wetness that accumulated there. Your breathing halts when the pads of his fingers press against your hole, body tingling with overwhelming desire. Slowly, carefully, he pushes his middle finger inside.

The sensation is unfamiliar, but not at all unpleasant- in fact, the back and forth motion of his finger as it slides in and out quickly begins to draw soft whimpers from your lips. Soon enough, he’s adding a second finger, watching how they disappear in you with an almost mystified gaze. He can’t believe how snug you feel around his fingers, how wet and warm and fuck, he can’t even begin to imagine how good it’s going to feel around his cock. 

“Ah-!” you gasp loudly when, after some exploration, his fingers find a bundle of nerves that makes every nerve in your body erupt in pleasure. Your head falls back against his pillows, and you bite your lip, trying to contain the slew of loud noises that threaten to leave you everytime he rubs over it again. 

His fingers pump in and out at a steady pace now, not too fast as to overwhelm you, but enough to have stars constantly erupting in your vision. Your hands tightly grip the sheets beneath you, legs trembling and knot tightening in your gut unbelievably fast. Chan’s name leaves your mouth over and over between breaths and whines, like a looped mantra, the salacious melody you create music to his ears.

You clamp a hand over your mouth to muffle the loud whimpers and moans that rip through you as you come undone on Chan’s fingers. Would it be sacrilegious to call your noises heavenly when the reason for them is so sinful? He wishes more than anything he could hear them unfiltered, to allow them to flow freely from your lips without a care in the world about the volume and who could hear them. 

He slowly stills his fingers as you come down from your high, taking in the sight of you and memorizing every detail. The rise and fall of your chest as you catch your breath, the rosy tint of your cheeks, the beads of sweat that linger on your brow, all coming together to create an ethereal image. 

Chan plants soft kisses on your face as he gently slides his fingers out of you, complimenting you on how pretty you sound and beautiful you look. "Channie-" you start, and he smiles, knowing exactly what you intend to whine about. "Don't worry, my love. I'll keep my promise."

He takes his fingers, still wet with your release, and rubs them up and down his length, mixing his pre-cum with it along the way. As you watch you realize that his cock is much bigger than his fingers, and you wonder how it'll fit when just two fingers alone already felt like so much. 

“Are you ready?” Chan checks in with you when he’s lined up with your entrance, ready to stop at a moment's notice if you decide this is too much too soon. He can see the subtle worry beneath the anticipation, notices the way you unconsciously hold your breath when he presses against you. It's true, you are nervous, but not enough so to make you change your mind. So you nod, and he moves one of his hands to yours, intertwining your fingers. 

“Squeeze if you need to, okay? I'll go slow,” Chan assures you, placing a soft kiss on your temple before he begins. There’s a sharp intake of breath from you when he slowly begins to push inside, the sting being much more intense than you had anticipated. It goes beyond the discomfort you expected, eyes squeezing shut and your grip on his hand tightening. 

The minute Chan feels you squeeze his hand tighter, he pauses just as promised. You open your eyes after a moment, looking up at Chan to try and push the sting to the back of your mind. He's breathing heavily, brows knit together in a combination of pleasure and concern, beads of sweat dripping down the sides of his face. It takes all his self control to not get lost in the sensation around him, needing to make sure he takes care of you properly. He can't hurt you, can't lose himself before making sure you'll feel good too, needs to put you above all else. 

"Do you need me to stop?" he asks, and you quickly shake your head no, expressing again how much you want to be connected with him in every way possible. Leaning down now, he kisses you until the discomfort subsides, whispering sweet words to you when he resumes the push, praising you over and over again until he's completely within you. 

You're still squeezing his hand, not due to any pain or discomfort this time, but to ground yourself through the overwhelming sensation of Chan being deep inside you. He continues kissing you softly, going above and beyond to ensure that you're relaxed and comfortable. "Love you so much Channie," you tell him, and he smiles sweetly, heart so full of adoration and infatuation for you. 

“Love you more,” he kisses you, ”so much,” another kiss, “never letting you go.” You giggle softly between his kisses, his words making your heart flutter. After graciously accepting a bit more of his doting, you soon notice that no trace of the initial sting or discomfort remains. In fact, being so full of him feels good, your body unconsciously seeking friction. 

“Channie, I’m ready now, want you to move, please,” you beg with such a soft and cute voice, he knows there is no way he can resist. Well, not that he would ever deny you what you want in the first place. With one last kiss, and reassuring squeeze to your hand, he finally allows himself to move. 

Slowly, as gently as he can, he pulls out, pressing back inside in one fluid motion when only the tip remains, repeating the action through shaky breaths and his bottom lip tucked between his teeth. Even with the languid pace, it's enough to drive him insane. Every detail of you, from the way you look, the way you sound, the way you feel wrapped around him, so snug and warm and inviting- it’s intoxicating. 

Chan’s arms reach beneath you, hooking under your back and hands holding your shoulders, keeping your body closely pressed against his own. His face is buried in your neck, low groans beneath your ear, for you and you alone to hear. You make your own effort to keep him close as well; one hand tangling in his curly hair and the other tightly gripping his bicep.

He’s going slow, not just for your sake, but for his own. Because if he doesn’t he’s going to blow, because he wants to live in this moment for as long as he possibly can, because being close to you like this is everything he’s ever dreamed of. You’re his, finally his, and he wants it to last, wants to indulge in the feeling and the emotion of being your chosen lover. 

It takes him a few tries to find the spot that makes you see stars with just his cock, but he knows he’s found it when you (unwittingly) let out a loud moan, nails digging into his skin and eyes rolling back. He picks up his pace now, chasing the sound of your pleasure-filled voice, wanting to hear you call his name over and over again.

He kisses you again when your combined noises begin to grow in pitch, muffling one another in a desperate attempt to keep the sounds of pleasure confined to the 4 walls of Chan’s room. You want to be quiet, you know you should be, but you truly can’t help it. But if he’s being honest, he likes that you can’t keep your voice down, likes that he’s making you feel so good that you can’t suppress it.

Chan is getting close now, and he pulls himself away from your lips, wanting to look at you once more before his approaching orgasm overtakes him. Even now, when you're breathless, cheeks red and hair sticking to your forehead due to the sweat, you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. "Wanna cum in you,” he manages to say between his low moans, “will you let me, please? Need to fill you up, need to make you mine forever, just like I'm yours."

Once again, your stomach flips, the words having an immense effect on you. "Y-Yes, yes, cum in me, I'm yours, only yours," you answer easily, wanting nothing more than to feel (and watch) him come apart because of you. His pace stutters following your permission, thrusts growing quick and sloppy as he chases his high, groans turning into drawn out whines. 

The faster pace sends you reeling, toes curling has the knot in your stomach tightens and snaps in quick succession. You pull Chan back down to you, kissing him deeply as you cum around his cock, both to muffle yourself and as a gesture of the all consuming love you feel for him. He lets out soft, desperate whimpers as he releases inside you, ropes of cum painting your walls white.

You both stay like that for a few moments- breathlessly wrapped in one another's embrace, sharing soft kisses as you come down from your highs, soft admissions of love leaving your lips. You wince when Chan’s softening length pulls out of you, feeling extremely sensitive following the loss of your virginity. 

Chan blows out the candles before he lays down next to you, leaving the moonlight coming through his window as the only illumination. He intended to pull you close to him, but he didn't have to- you snuggle up to him the moment you can, laying your head on his chest and wrapping your arm around his torso, legs tangling with his.

His racing heartbeat begins to slow, an extreme relaxation sweeping over his body. He closes his eyes, your soft breathing serving as his own personal lullaby. Carefully, he reaches his free arm out for his blanket, pulling it over to cover your nude bodies. He’s nearly asleep when he hears you softly call his name, voice quiet but still loud and clear in his ears. “What is it, darling?” he asks as he opens his eyes and lifts his head to look at you.

There’s a moment of silence that follows as you consider how best to voice what you want to say, but Chan is patient, looking at you with a soft gaze. “Do you.. Think we can really get married?” You finally ask, and Chan’s heart squeezes in his chest when you do. He can hear the tremble in your voice so clearly, feels the way you hold him tighter as you wait for him to answer.

If he’s being truthful, he doesn’t know. It’s what he wants, what he hopes for more than words can express, but just doesn’t know. And it breaks his heart to see you like this- clearly vulnerable and unsure. You’ve always sought out Chan for comfort, but it’s different this time. Different because you now know the depths of love you both share, the desire to always be together and the fear that you’ll be driven apart.

You’ll fight for your love, of course you will, because there is no happiness to be had if Chan isn’t by your side. But you don’t want to have to fight for it, you don’t want either of you to suffer, you don’t want Chan to be driven away from you by people who don’t understand and don’t value him for who he is. You want your love to be accepted, to openly profess your love, to marry the only person you’ve ever had eyes for.

Tears are welling in your eyes, and he can see them even in the dim moonlight. “Y/N..” he uses his free arm to reach for your face, wiping away the tears that threaten to fall with his thumb. “I’m going to marry you. No matter what I have to do, I will,” Chan tells you, voice gentle but resolute. He meant it when he said he’s never letting you go, meant it when he said he’ll always be yours and always be beside you.

He doesn’t know what the future holds- if things will come easy for you both, or if you’ll have to fight tooth and nail just to be with each other. But he knows that no matter what the answer is, he will be with you. Whether in your toughest moments or happiest, he’ll be there. Holding your hand, giving you his love, sticking with you until the end of his days.

Whether it’s tomorrow, months, or even years from now, he’ll be your husband. You’ll be the one he shares his life with, the one he starts a family with, the one he sees every morning and every night. He’ll hold you close, starting your days with ‘I love you’s’ and ending them with the same, giving you all he has to give. 

“No matter what happens, we’ll get through it together, okay? I love you so much,” Chan says and you nod, a soft smile on your face as you wipe your eyes and lay your head back down against him. “Love you, Channie.” He kisses your head softly, urging you to relax, to fall asleep, and not worry about what could be, but indulge in what is.

Indulge in the love you share, the feeling of closeness as you lie together in his bed, the sound of his heartbeat in your ear and his gentle reassurances. He’ll still be here when you wake up, will keep you in his arms, holding you close and making sure you know how much he adores you, how much he loves you. Because no matter what the future brings, you still have this moment. You still have each other.

and that's all for this one shot ! i hope you enjoyed it :) i couldn't decide which ending would be best out of the ones i had ideas for, so i decided to leave it more open ended. i personally want them to live happily ever after following this, but you can leave it up to your imagination!

if there's interest i might make a part two that explores one of the endings i had in mind (most likely the angsty one if i'm being honest because it'd be much longer than a purely happy ending) so lmk if you'd like to read that and i'll work on it!

i'd also like to say, this was originally not the chan story in my drafts i was going to post first but i got really inspired during the writing and ended up finishing it before the other one, so expect yet another chan x reader in (possibly) the near future :')

and lastly, i once again want to say thank you so much for all the sweet things you've all said about my writing so far !! i didn't expect to get such kind feedback and i appreciate it sm <3

#skz x reader #bang chan x reader #skz smut #bang chan smut #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz fluff #skz angst #mdni + divider graphic credit: @cafekitsune

[twignotstick]

Broken Brothers (and How to Fix Them)

Part 2 💙 | <- Part 1 🧡

Note: This story is based on @cupcakeslushie 's Empyrean Weeping au. These characters are not my own, and this story is in no way canon to the main story. I wrote this as my love letter to the story and the characters. Especially April :)

Tags: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, ROTTMNT, Leo & April, NOT MY CHARACTERS, Empyrean Weeping AU, recovery (i have a sneaking suspicion that will apply to the whole fic,,), talking it out because we're adults, movies, comics, they're becoming friends

Warnings (if there's anything I should add here, tell me please!): Mention of violence (its one sentence, but figure I should still put it here :P)

Words: 1,588 (there's less setup this time)

Summary: April was able to figure out her first brother easily. Now, she gets three more, with a couple more issues to worry about.

----------------------

As soon as she even saw Leo for the first time, she knew he wouldn't be as easy to get along with as Mikey was. Mikey was always so open, so bright, so bouncy. Leo, in comparison, was still, dull, and closed off. He had just come from a terrible ninja clan, beaten by his own master. It was kind of warranted.

Any time April would enter the medbay where they were keeping Leo, he would silently stare a hole in her soul. His face had hardly loosened from the scowl he had adopted, and any time April would get near, it would just harden more. Even so, April kept trying to get close. Despite Raph's concerns for her physical health. (And with Mikey's encouragement, because he was happy to enable the potentially dangerous behavior.)

One afternoon, she decided to bring a ton of her Jupiter Jim comics to read. The boys needed a break from watching their somewhat-volatile-yet-severely-wounded brother, and April knew he wouldn't talk to her. So, once she settled down in her chair a few feet away from the bed where Leo was scowling, she pulled out the comic she'd left off on: Jupiter Jim Breaks Newton's Fourth Law, Volume 8.

After a few minutes of reading, April couldn't help but notice a change in Leo out of her peripheral vision. He wasn't staring at her anymore, but at her comic. This glare wasn't full of discontent and uncertainty. Instead, it was filled with emotions he was trying (and failing) to hide- curiosity and excitement.

“You read Jupiter Jim?”

Leo was surprised by the sudden question and whipped his gaze away, a slight flush coming to his cheeks. “No.”

April's journalism senses were kicking in. There was a story here. “Why not?”

“Things like that are…” Leo's posture tightened, almost as if the thing he was about to say wasn't what he believed, “useless distractions.”

“I don't think so,” April said, shifting her chair a little closer to the bed. “I think it's important to have distractions sometimes. Y'know, during finals, when you're sick, when you've got a broken arm…” Subtly, April started slipping the comic in her hands to the bed. “You can read it, if you want.”

“No. I can't.”

Leo looked surprisingly aggressive when he responded. He seemed to catch his unwarranted anger and mumbled, “I still haven't read 6 or 7.”

“Oh!” April sat up straight and grabbed her bag from the floor. “I've got the whole arc up to 9 in here, I thiiink-” Once she had fished out the comics she was looking for, she placed them on the corner of the bed by Leo's feet.

The slider stared at the comics like they'd offended him.

“...well?”

“I-I can't. I can't hold them with my arm-”

“I can hold it for you!” April said. “I can turn the pages whenever you need.”

Leo finally looked back at April with that trademark scowl he always had. “What's your game, woman?”

April smiled. “No games, just trying to make you feel comfortable in your new home.”

Leo huffed. “This isn't my home.”

“It's where your family is, isn't it? Isn't that what matters?” April asked genuinely.

Leo looked back down at the comics. His eyes softened while the rest of his expression remained, and he picked Volume 6 up with his good arm. He opened it and silently began to read.

They both sat and read for a while. April noticed Leo struggling to turn pages sometimes, but she didn't dare try to help him. She thought he might bite her hand if she did. He was still scowling at the comic as he read, but it looked less like a scowl of anger and more one of concentration.

When he got done with Volume 6, April spoke. “So, who's your favorite character?”

“...JJ, obviously.” Leo slowly reached out and grabbed the next volume.

“Seriously? That's so basic.”

Leo scoffed. “Really? Then who's your favorite character?”

“Atomic Lass, obvi,” April said, flipping her hair for emphasis.

“Atomic Lass?! Her personality is literally just ‘woman’.”

“Uh, yeah, and that's the point?! Atomic Lad is just ‘man’. Haven't you watched Jupiter Jim on the Atomic Sub-Moon?”

Leo's shoulders lowered. “...watched?”

April sprung up and put her arms on the bed, looking down at Leo in shock. “YOU'VE NEVER WATCHED A JUPITER JIM MOVIE?!”

“NO?! THEY MAKE THOSE?!”

“THAT'S IT!” April grabbed her bag from the floor and moved it over to the side of Leo's bed. “You, keep reading. I'll get one of the boys to watch you. I need to head home and get my box set. We are having a movie night. Understand?!”

“Y-yes ma'am!”

“We can start with Last Trip to the Moon 1, but then we are watching Atomic Sub-Moon, I DO NOT care if the context is lost, you'll figure it out.”

“O-okay?!”

“RAPH!”

----------------------

“So… the real Atomic Lad and Atomic Lass are dead?!”

“Yes! And the Atomic Lad and Lass we know are-”

“People carrying on the legacy, who the Atomic people believe are still the originals?!”

“YES! That's why they never use their real names, that's why-”

“Why they act like Barbie and Ken for space…”

“Now you get it!” April leaned back into her bean bag and put her arms behind her head. The movie night had gone way better than expected. They had to set up the best pillow pile they could, since they didn't have a sofa big enough for everybody. In the end, April and Leo stayed in bean bags and watched the movies while the others went about their day. It took a minute for Leo to get into it, but once the moon buggy showed up, he was hooked. For the first time, April saw a child in Leo. 

“So, have I won you over with an emotional, heart breaking backstory?” April asked slyly.

“Uh, no.”

April's eyes snapped to the slider. “WHAT?! What do you meeean?! I don't get how you like JJ more than Atomic Lass!”

“Well, he's the main character for a reason, for one.” Leo took another bite of the pizza slice he had been eating. “And second, he's the one who always gets everyone out of the bad stuff. He's the hero, and he isn't scared to sacrifice for his crew.”

“But, consider this, Atomic Lass has a giant rocket powered hammer, Leo.”

“JJ doesn't need a weapon. He's got the nerve pinch technique.”

“They never use the nerve pinch technique, though!” April whined.

“That doesn't mean he doesn't have it!”

“I never thought someone could be as dorky as April,” Raph said from where he stood a few feet away from the bean bag setup. “And yet, here we are.”

“Wh- dorky?!” Leo scoffed, looking at Raph incredulously.

“Yeah, dorky!” Mikey popped out from behind Raph's shoulder. “Y'know, nerdy? Geeky? Criiinge?”

Leo's face flushed and he curled in on himself, stammering.

“Hey, y'all are just jealous that we're bonding,” April defended. “If you gave JJ a chance, you'd like it too.”

Raph and Mikey both shut up quick. April waved them off, and they hurried out to the kitchen again, saying they were “getting more snacks”.

Now that they were alone, April looked over at Leo again. “They're stupid. Can't appreciate good media.”

“Good media?” Leo asked. “You mean B-Movies and old comics?”

“Yeah, man.” April grabbed a blanket and tossed it over at Leo, making him fumble to keep it off his face with his good arm. “It makes you feel good, doesn't it?”

Leo looked down and contemplated. “I mean… yeah. But I-”

“Shouldn't?”

Leo took a deep breath. “Yeah.”

“You don't have to worry about what you should or shouldn't do here, Leo,” April said, sitting more upright to look at Leo better. “You do what you want. What makes you feel good. That's all you should worry about when you're home. Doing what you want and feeling good.”

Leo turned away, looking at the TV, paused at the end of the credits.

“If it means anything, this really made me feel good,” April said. “It's cool to have somebody to talk about ‘nerd stuff’ with. And I'm glad you liked the movies. Atomic Sub-Moon is one of my favorites. Not as good as Pluto Vacation 4, but good.”

“There's more?” Leo asked timidly.

“Oh, there's loads more!” April grinned. “There's like a jillion Last Trip to the Moons, there's Jupiter Jim and the Overly Complicated Magic System, Jupiter Jim Squared Minus One, Jupiter Jim Breaks into Federal Prison, there's tons! We can have more movie nights, if you want.”

Leo looked at the blanket laying over him, grabbing it and rubbing it between his fingers. “I think… I think I want that.”

April pumped her fist. “Sweet! This means I've still got time to win you over to the Atomic Side.”

Leo let a single laugh escape his lips. “Yeah, not happening. Jim is the best, I don't care what you say. Even Red Fox is better than Atomic Lass.”

“AH! HOW DARE YOU?!” April stood up and looked down at Leo. “Just you wait, nonbeliever. Just wait until I show you the Atomic Lass spinoff comic. Or the Atomic Lass movies. You will change.”

“I wouldn't bet on it.”

“Oh YEAH?! I will bet on it. I'll bet on it so hard, you can call me Troy Bolton.”

Leo's eyes nervously shifted from side to side, centering back on April. “...who?”

“...YOU'VE NEVER SEEN HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL?!”

“NO?!?”

“RAPH!”

○●○●○●○

Yippee! Part 2! Part 3 is giving me more... issues... so it might take a minute to come out. But its coming! 🟪🐢

I really leaned into Leo's inner dorkiness here. I just thought him and April bonding over their obsession with an insane astronaut man was so cute. <3 (This is also why I'm so excited for the rest of Leo's arc in the actual comic! GAH!!!)

Congrats to everyone who won the first round of @tmntaucompetition voting! Very excited for the next round coming up :)

Part 3 -> 💜

#tmnt #tmnt au #rottmnt #tmnt fanfiction #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt au propaganda #tmnt separated au #separated au #tmnt leo #tmnt april #save rottmnt #unpause rottmnt #twig writes

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

my mum bought me my first neil gaiman book, maggots!!

So, I don't know if you'd call it a book like a story, rather, it's a series of essays by Neil that were illustrated by Chris Riddell. My mum listened to the story of how I was kidnapped adopted by the Good Omens fandom. She was very confused, but since I'm an author and artist, she bought me the book, Art Matters.

And I've been seeing so much beautiful fanart and edits and fanfiction from this fandom, I swear to God or Someone, and it's all reminding me what a wonderful thing fandom is. And art is.

I read the book, and it was amazing, and here's a few quotes from it that I think the ridiculously talented people who created the book and the show as well as every fan who has made this creation grow should hear.

"And remember that whatever discipline you are in, whether you are a musician or a photographer, a fine artist or a cartoonist, a writer, a dancer, a designer, whatever you do, you have one thing that's unique. You have the ability to make art. And for me, and for so many of the people I have known, that's been a lifesaver. The ultimate lifesaver."

"...while you're at it, make your art. Do that stuff that only you can do. ...the one thing that you have that nobody else has is you. Your voice, your mind, your story, your vision. So write and draw and build and play and dance and live as only you can."

"And where would be the fun is doing something you knew was going to work?"

Well, you heard him, maggots. Go on creating. You are all so, so important. I came to tumblr because I was lonely and I wanted a friend.

I found a family, instead. In this very strange fandom that kidnapped adopted me. I love you all, and I'm glad to cry with you. I haven't even got to season 2 yet.

Side note...

Welcome, @neil-gaiman, join the maggots in watching me sob over Aziraphale and Crowley. It really is very quiet, gentle and romantic out here.

#good omens mascot #maggots #neil gaiman #asmi #good omens fandom #weirdly specific but ok #why fandom matters #i love you all #understood? you are loved. #aziraphale #crowley #art #quotes about art #art matters #neil gaiman books #fandom #fanfic #fanart #writing #fanfic writing #authors #writers of tumblr #artists of tumblr #just all of you #i need you to know #HOW IMPORTANT YOU ARE #lgbtqia #good omens