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#i just hope they know I'm growing into a better person. or trying to.
tpwk-formula1 · 3 days
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Girl prepare for a big one I’m sorry 😭
Gluten free, deep dish with Red sauce, Jalapeños, Tomato’s, and Ham, with Sun tea and a Vodka redbull and dessert?
Served by Lewis Hamilton
Special request: “can there be a fight for dominance but the reader looses?” Love the menu btw 💗💗💗
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Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu
gluten free rivals deep dish teammates red sauce rough sex jalapenos "Always such a fucking brat" tomatoes "Do you enjoy pissing me off?" ham "You're so infuriating. Walking around like you own the place and then come back to my room to get fucked properly" sun tea sir kink vodka redbull squirting dessert yes served by Lewis Hamilton
Lewis x Rival Teammate! reader
TW - MEAN asf Lewis, reader can fight back, sorry for the things I said about you Kimi (I love you I promise!), squirting, unprotected sex, face slapping (once), multiple orgasms, truthfully might be the roughest sex I have written for this vlog (maybe other than Kinktober)
WC 2100+
Y/N POV
The meeting was finally over which had Lewis and I both popping up and scurrying off into our respective driver's room. We just finished our debrief after the Singapore qualifying after Lewis and I were found fighting in the garage when I refused to give him a slipstream after he didn't give me one back in Monza when I needed it.
Toto left the meeting at "You guys need to figure your shit out. Fuck or something." He even suggested. If only he knew...
I'm packing up my stuff when I hear a loud bang coming from Lewis's room making me stop and stare at the wall that connects our room before I hear Lewis should a loud fuck.
I slowly leave my room looking into the garage to see if anyone had heard Lewis's outbreak. When I noticed the entire garage was completely empty I walked next door to knock softly.
When I didn't get a response I trained my ears to see if Lewis was in the shower. When I can't hear the shower I softly open the door to find Lewis changing into a different pair of pants making my eyes instantly notice the bulge hidden from his briefs. I could tell he was far from rock hard which had my mind racing.
"Do you know how to fucking knock?" Lewis snaps making my eyes instantly move from staring at his bulge making my face grow hot slightly.
"I did knock," I snap back before turning to leave.
"No, wait!" Lewis shouted not letting me get a clean escape.
"What?" I ask while stepping into Lewis's room and closing the door behind me giving us some privacy in case we get into another screaming match.
"Why are you even in here?" Lewis asked referring to me coming in, in the first place.
"I heard a bang and then you shouted. Just wanted to make sure you where okay," I tell Lewis softly making Lewis nod.
"Ah, so you do have a heart! Spent the past three years convinced you where the fucking tin man," Lewis tells me with a sarcastic laugh falling from his lips.
"Lewis, literally shut the fuck up. You're getting replaced by a child next year because you threw a tantrum when Toto didn't give you what you wanted," I tell him makingg Lewis's face grow red in anger.
"Are you fucking kidding me right now? You're the one who might get replaced by Max next year is Toto can swoon him," Lewis snaps back making me shrug my shoulders.
"Eh, at least I know the person replacing me has talent. Your replacement fucking crashed my car on lap three last time he got behind the wheel," I reply back trying to show the situation doesn't stress me out.
"You're fucking petty as shit. When Kimi crashed you were all like 'oh no I hope he's okay! He's just too sweet he better be okay'," Lewis replied back in a voice that was clearly trying to mock my voice.
"You're so fucking ridiculous Lewis. I wish it was you who retired and not Nico," I snap with vemon lacing my voice making Lewis stride towards me and push me against the wall. I knew I took it a step to far but truthfully I didn't care. I trusted that Lewis wouldn't hurt me but at the same time even if he did it wouldn't be the first time we hurt each other. While it was always words I could take a slap to the face like a champ.
"Do you enjoy pissing me off? Because you're a fucking child. You know that? Everyone has to walk on eggshells around you because one wrong move and BOOM the little Mercedes driver with the anger problems is throwing another fucking tantrum," Lewis spits his words into my face making me pull a disgusted face to try and mask the hurt coursing through me.
"You're a fucking asshole, Lewis Hamilton," I spit back making Lewis finally crash his lips onto mine making me gasp against his lips in shock before slightly relaxing into the kiss before pushing Lewis away once I realize who I was kissing.
"Don't fucking do this shit again," I snap at him before both of us fall silent just staring at each other while breathing rapidly.
It was clockwork for us, we go at each other's throats and somehow find ourselves in each other's bed to somehow kiss and make up, but in reality, all it is, is putting a fucking bandaid on a bullet hole.
At the same moment, Lewis and I are back to aggressively making out fighting for dominance. I get Lewis to the bed first making him sit down before I start pushing at his shoulders before I'm climbing into his lap taking control, which lasts about .3 seconds before I am being flipped around resulting in my back roughly hitting the hard physio table.
"Always such a fucking brat, trying to take control like that's your role," Lewis says while grinding his hips into mine making me moan at the pleasure.
"One of these days your little outbursts and attitude is gonna leave you ass so sore you won't be able to race," Lewis says making me roll my eyes at his threats.
"Then you won't get the damn slipstream you want so bad," I fight back with a satisfied smirk on my face with is quickly slapped off. I mean literally, Lewis slapped my face not necessarily softly but far from as hard as he could.
Lewis knew I loved when he mixed a bit of pain with my pleasure and early on found out he could send a quick slap to my face and it'll shut me up pretty quickly.
I just whimper when the sting settles in and I register what happened. Lewis is instantly gripping at my clothes and undressing me with no problem.
When I'm completely bare for Lewis he's like a madman being released because his mouth is instantly all over my pussy while also slipping three fingers into my unprepared hole making me softly scream at the stretch.
Lewis is instantly throwing his free hand over my mouth successfully muffling my screams not wanting anyone to walk by and hear what is going on between the two known rivals.
Lewis knew exactly what he was doing, so it was no shocker to him when I started begging to cum.
"Please, sir. I need it," I whine against his large hand that is still covering my mouth.
"Go on, it's the only thing you're good at," Lewis finally gives me permission making me instantly release my orgasm spraying my pleasure all over Lewis's face and soaking the shirt he was still wearing.
When I gether myself enough I look down to see the damage that has been done and it was so hot to see Lewis soaked with my juices.
"You're giving me at least two more before I even think about giving you my cock," Lewis said roughly while still finger fucking me making me whimper at the overstimulation.
Lewis knew my body better than anyone else ever has, which is only because he tied me to my hotel bed and explored my body until the sun rose finding all the ways he could make me cum, scream, whine, beg, you name it he probably discovered it that night. The night he found out I could squirt several times in a row in quick succession if he just kept going.
"Sir," I announce loudly when I feel the band in my stomach start to grow again.
"Go on," Lewis says with a sass in his voice almost like he was annoyed.
"Oh fuck," I whimper out when I finally feel the band snap making me start spraying all over Lewis's driver's room again.
"God, you're so fucking easy. I bet I could make you squirt if I looked at you hard enough," Lewis said in mockery knowing damn well he could blow a little bit of air on my clit and I'd be cumming for him in a matter of seconds.
"I need one more," Lewis said while speeding up his fingers again making me whine when I feel my third orgasm approaching making me squirm trying to get away but Lewis was far stronger than me making it easy to overpower me and keep me down while he finger fucks me into another squirting orgasm that has me gasping for air. I could hear my squirt hitting difference surfaces around us making the deed that much dirtier.
I am sure everyone will hear about this by the next race because no way the poor cleaner who has to come in after us will keep their mouth shut when they realize the dried liquid all around the room is in fact the evidence of the pleasure of the female driver.
"Good fucking girl! Good to know your ears work sometimes," Lewis says while stepping away from my pussy before sending a rough slap down on my sensitive clit making me jerk and a little bit a squirt come out making Lewis laugh at the slut he had turned me into for him.
"Please sir, more," I gasp when I feel Lewis's tip teasing my dripping entrance inviting him to sink in.
"You know you're so infuriating. Walking around like you own the place and then come back to my room to get fucked properly" says Lewis as he sinks into my pussy making me whimper at the stretch.
"Fucking hell, how are you still this fucking tihgt?" Lewis questions while he starts thrusting making me whimper feeling the stretch all over my body.
"Fuck, I'm gonna have to spend more time in you, maybe make you sleep with my cock burried in this pussy, make it a perfect fucking fit for me to play with," Lewis continues making me whimer and clench around him.
"So good, sir," I gasp when Lewis's hips are snapping into mine at a brutal pace.
"Fuck! How are you about to cum again," Lewis groans when he feels my pussy contracting around his cock ready to fall into another orgasm.
"You know what to do," Lewis says giving me permission for my fourth orgasm of the night making me scream out loudly.
My tightening pussy was Lewis's final straw because next thing I know he's pulling out and cumming on my stomach making sure to paint my tits a bit with his cum.
He loved the way he could coat my body in his cum.
Once Lewis settles down from his pleasure he climbs out of the hard bed looking for a towel he can use to whip me down.
Once I'm clean from his cum he pulls me up slightly so he can stand between my legs while he holds me to his chest.
"You think Toto knows the truth?" I mumble against Lewis's tattooed chest making me chuckle softly.
"Probably and if not before he's definitely gonna think we listened to his advice," Lewis jokes making me laugh with him.
"We have a problem," I mumble burying my face into his chest not wanting to admit the problem.
"What is it, sweet girl?" Lewis questions showing me the sweet side I only got to see after moments like this or early in the morning when we knew no one could see that the two rivals actually had hearts.
"I can't feel my legs and I truthfully do not want to get into someone else's car covered in sweat and cum," I mumble making Lewis laugh lightly.
"Well you have in fact left your sweat and cum in my car so I'll take us back to the hotel, and I have no issues holding you until you're ready," Lewis tells me softly before picking me up into his arms and pulling us to the couch where he held me.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have screamed in your face like that," Lewis apologizes clearly embarrassed by his actions.
"I said some pretty ugly things too. I think we need to work on that," I tell him softly making him hum in agreeance.
"Still want you to fuck me like that, even if it does make driving a bit uncomfortable," I tell him making Lewis let out a belly laugh.
"I'll always fuck you like a whore. You love it too much for me to stop," Lewis tells me making me smile.
We lay like that for another thirty minutes before we heard a knock on the door before we could hear Toto's voice shout, "I see you took my advice! It better fucking work!"
Lewis and I just laugh at being called out but make no move to get up and get dressed knowing Toto wasn't going to open the door.
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pawpupster · 1 day
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Kit
Back at it again y'all. Um, this one is literally so self indulgent. That's beside the point though. I'm not trying to make it fit into any movie or existing timeline and once again I'm just making stuff up bc I can. Anyway...
Paternal Logan x child!gn!reader
Summary: Young Y/N finds their way to the mansion after long travels. Once there, Charles quickly sends Logan to bond with them because they were derived from his DNA.
warnings: nothing to worry about if you watch X-men anyway.
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Kit
Y/N wandered down a long path, utilizing their nose to lead them in the right direction. They knew they looked suspicious. I mean really, how many kids go around covered in blood? Not many, and if they do it's not long until they’re picked up and questioned. 
Y/N couldn't risk that though, they knew what would happen if humans saw the claws coming from their knuckles. That's why they needed to follow this scent. Y/N had been trekking the woods after escaping their parents basement for days now. No real direction or plan. Just thankful they were away from that personal hell... and that their mutation let them eat raw meat. Too many squirrels were eaten in the past few days.
It was day 16 that the wind brought along the scent of fellow mutants. Y/N was all too knowing of exactly what a mutant smelled like. I mean, you spend enough time locked up with nothing but your own senses and you pick apart what you can, in this case, your own scent. 
All the better at the end of the day though. Nothing could be worse than what they came from. Y/N just hoped they wouldn’t judge them too greatly for killing their torturer. 
A mass amount of mutants like the one Y/N could smell would either be helpful or harmful. They were confident they could hold their own enough to escape again if things took a turn for the worse, but they were banking on this group being helpful. As Y/N neared, they could begin to hear the sounds of laughter, definitely a good sign. 
Finally around the bend, Y/N was surprised to be greeted with a voice in their head. 
“Hello, young one. My name is Charles Xavier, what brings you here?”
Y/N was freaked out to say the least. Their body kicked back into flight or fight mode and they swore they could feel their muscles tighten to their adamantium bones. They didn’t know how to answer the question. Shouldn't it be obvious they wanted to be with those like them? Plus, who was this Charles to think he could crawl into people's heads without permission?
“You raise a good point, I apologize. You seem to be in a pretty rough shape. Please, let us assist you,” Came the kind voice in their head once again.
Unwillingly, Y/N began to find comfort in that voice. As they stared at the looming building, Y/N could only think of how unkind their father was. 
They doubted that this ‘Charles’ would infuse a woman's growing fetus with the last remains of the weapon x’s experiment’s DNA. Much less to then keep that child locked in his basement after it killed his wife by birth, though, staring at the mansion Y/N could admit its basement probably wasn’t as bad as the one they were in. 
“Oh you poor thing,” Y/N was once again interrupted in their own head, "we are just the place for you. I promise. You’ll never have to suffer like that again.”
Y/N looked back up at the mansion when they heard the great doors open. Out came a gruff looking man. Y/N was set on edge again as the man began making his way towards them at a quick pace. 
Scrambling backwards, Y/N ended up tripping and attempted to use their hands to catch themselves. This only resulted in them stabbing themselves in the thighs upon their landing. The scent of their own fresh blood flooding their nose is what sent Y/N into a true frenzy. 
Tears began to pour and growls rumbled in their throat as they once again were shocked with the voice of Charles in their head, “Do not fret Y/N, this is Logan. I believe you’ll find him to be most helpful at the moment.”
Remembering the gruff man once again, Y/N jerked their head up to find that the man had stopped a few paces from their position on the ground and was staring intently at the claws embedded in their thighs. 
“Hey bub, Charles” the man - Logan, they remembered - began hesitantly, looking up to see if Y/N was listening, “sent me to bring you in. He’s under the assumption you're some sort of backasswards offspring of mine.” Logan cocked an eyebrow at Y/N as he released his own claws from his knuckles, only to pull them back in after Y/N’s eyes flashed with recognition. 
They were shocked to hear gentle rumbles coming from the man. It was soothing. Y/N found themself starting to hiccup instead of sob, and their own growls lessened into small mewls. 
“Oh kit,” Logan started advancing again. Once near enough, he kneeled down and sat back on his heels, “let’s get those out of your legs and then we'll work on cleaning you up, okay?”
As the man began reaching towards them, Y/N flinched away and wrenched their claws out of their thighs to hold defensively before them. 
“Don’t hurt me, please! I’m sorry for coming. I didn’t mean to kill them I promise! I just wanted it to stop, please don’t hurt me,” Y/N desperately cried, eyes looking to their quickly healing thighs, hoping with everything in them that this man wouldn’t impale them with his own metal claws. 
“Kit, I’m not goin’ to hurt ya, and I’m certainly not gonna be the one to tell you off for doing whatever ya could to get out of what looks to be a tough situation. Lemme get you inside, allright. Inta a nice warm bath and some better clothes than these rags. How’s that sound?” The man spoke very gently, still with that kind rumble in his chest. 
Y/N looked up at him again when he gently grabbed their wrists to lower their claws. Y/N watched as he began to gently rub the pads of his thumbs over the inside of their wrists. Y/N was confused at first, until they watched as their claws retreated back into their forearms when Logan hit a particular muscle. They tried their best to not let the pain of the movement show, but they were sure Logan heard their small hiss and the smell of distress spike.
Making eye contact again, Logan reached out to grab Y/N under their arms. Overwhelmed with all that's happened over the last few weeks and especially the last fifteen minutes, Y/N’s body decided it was the best course of action to shift into their wolverine form… to the shock of Logan, Charles (who was viewing from Logans head), and the students out on the lawn who had been watching the interaction from a distance.
Logan could hear the students begin to murmur about the kit having a true animal form, and he even heard one brave kid question if Logan could do the same (he couldn't), but his main focus right now was making sure Y/N was taken care of. 
Carefully cradling the small wolverine to his chest, Logan made sure to keep up his gentle purrs as he made his way into the mansion. He was amazed by how quick a pack-like bond was forming between him and this kit. 
Stood in the foyer, Logan contemplated heading straight to Hank, but ultimately decided a bath would be of better use, especially when he knew any injuries have already healed.
With that in mind, he made his way up to his room. Nodding to the kids he passed in the hall, Logan made sure to keep Y/N out of their view and to glare at anyone close enough to hear his purrs.
Entering his room, Logan gently closed his door and then made his way into his bathroom. He gently set the small wolverine on his counter and began to fill his sink with warm water, all the while pressing a soothing hand over Y/N’s back.
“Don’t worry, we can do a bath just like this if you’d prefer,” Logan told Y/N when he noticed their beady eyes looking up at him. Instantly the kit relaxed under his hands and laid still while watching Logan gather a towel and his 2-in-1 from the shower. 
Once the sink was filled with sufficiently warm water, Logan picked up the kit and let them soak, gently petting the fur on the top of their head before cupping some water and wetting their head, being sure to wipe any from their eyes. 
Squeezing some shampoo into his palm, Logan made sure to scrub everywhere as efficiently as possible. It quickly became apparent that a second fill of water and scrub would be necessary. 
Midway through the sink filling for the second time, Logan heard Jean's voice in his head, “Is it alright if I come in? I promise I only have a spare change of clothes for the child and I’ll just set them on your bed, okay?”
Sending back an affirmative to her presence in his head, Logan made sure to keep a calming hold on the kit when they heard his door open with Jean’s scent rolling under the bathroom door and then close again as she left. 
“It’s all good, Y/N. Let’s get you finished here and into those clothes,” Logan said as he picked up the shampoo once again. 
After the water was running clean off the wolverines fur, Logan picked them up once again and wrapped them in a towel. 
“I’ll go grab you clothes and leave you to change,” Logan set Y/N on the ground once dry and went to grab the clothes Jean left. Going back into the bathroom with them, Logan made sure to warn, “these are just the school merch, so they smell a little starchy and dusty. Don’t worry, we’ll get you some new clothes soon enough.” With that, Logan left the room to give his kit some privacy. 
Y/N had no idea why this man was being so kind. Obviously he was like them, but they still didn’t expect this much care. Y/N can’t remember ever having hot water at their disposal, but Logan made it seem like they’d be getting that and so much more if they stayed here. Feeling calm enough to change back into their human form, Y/N quickly shed their old dirty clothes. Dressing into the sweats was easy enough, though they weren't sure how to keep them on, the pants kept slipping past their waist. 
Holding them up, Y/N stepped out of the bathroom and found Logan sitting on what they presumed to be his bed waiting for them. 
“Oh kit, c’mere,” Logan said as he realized they probably hadn’t had the comfort of sweatpants before. 
Slowly walking toward the man, Y/N was shocked when he gently tugged the string around their waist. At first Y/N thought he was going to tie them up somehow, but quickly realized he was just making a normal bow and their pants now fit. Y/N stared with wide eyes at Logan who only smiled in return. 
“C’mon, you can do with a nap, you look like yer about to drop,” Logan said as he stood from the bed. He pulled back the covers and began to make that rumbling noise Y/N liked so much again. 
Watching the man to make sure he wasn’t going to change his mind, Y/N crawled up into the bed and let themself be tucked in. It was then that they realized they had their own nice rumbly noise coming from their chest too. 
Y/N watched with hazy eyes as Logan made his way to a chair in the corner of the room. The final thing they saw before succumbing to sleep was him opening to marked page in a book. 
Logan couldn’t hold back his smile no matter how hard he tried to. The kit was too adorable when swamped in the logo-ed hoodie and sweatpants and absolutely swimming in his massive bed. Hopefully after a good sleep Y/N would be okay to see Hank and the Professor, but for right now, Logan was gonna let them sleep as long as they needed to. 
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redysetdare · 8 months
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y'know, I'm gonna apologize to the people I've gotten short with in the past. I'm sorry i let my short temper get to me and I'm sorry i took it out on you, especially if you were being genuine, patient, and kind. I should've met you with the same tact and grace but instead I lashed out. It doesn't matter how much i felt you deserved it at the time because i still could've been more kind and patient with you. it doesn't matter how much my patience had worn thin or how much i had dealt with before hand. I had the option to be kind and i chose not to and that is on me. I hope to be better. I hope to be kind. I don't want to be angry all the time.
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camels-pen · 9 months
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the difference between zosopp and sanuso (romantic OR platonic) is that Usopp is Zoro's specialest little guy and Zoro is someone Usopp hangs out with and looks up to and hides behind when things get scary, but Sanji and Usopp are best friends. They horse around, they beat each other up, they confide their worst fears trying to one up each other. Usopp hides behind Sanji sometimes, sure, but idk, Sanji's weaknesses are more obvious (bugs, fighting women, etc) so there are times when Usopp has to stand in front of Sanji too, yknow?
Like, how do I say this, all the crewmates are equal- Usopp and Zoro are equals- but with Sanji it feels like more... comradery? Zoro's a rock in a terrible storm- even rocks tend to get weathered and chipped and worn down, but they overall stay strong and steady. He has trouble being vulnerable and there are times when the burden he's placed on himself to keep the crew safe is crushing his chest. Usopp would help with that and be very understanding, but the point I'm trying to get with that is that those moments are few and far between. So I feel like Usopp, especially after Water 7, would take Zoro's lead on something like that, and keep most of his worries to himself or only talk about them sparingly unless they're really bad and/or he can't hide them.
Sanji is like a tree in a storm; he can be strong, yes, but it feels like he bends and sways with the storm, and has more obvious breaking points. He can relate more to Usopp's struggles rather than resorting to blunt honesty that might border on callous like Zoro. And while, with Zosopp, I tend to think of scenarios with Zoro being blunt like that as a good thing- because sometimes when you're spiraling, it's nice to have someone say exactly what's great about you and shoot down all your worries with straight facts that you can't argue with- I can also see this as being a bad thing. Anxiety can really twist up your brain sometimes, you know? And despite the words, the tone could still mess someone up if they're already feeling like a burden on others in some way.
With Sanuso it's a lot more understanding and thoughtful words. It's distractions and comfort food and patience- the kind reserved for Usopp- until Usopp talks about whatever's troubling him. Compared to Zosopp, it doesn't take as long for Usopp to open up, since he's done the same thing to Sanji at times and it's more familiar to him to talk and commiserate with Sanji about his worries and doubts and such. However, there are times stuff like this has absolutely no effect and Sanji will end up at a loss, no idea what to do or how to help over the course of several days with Usopp being quiet and keeping his distance, and he'll end up working himself up about it which will only serve to make Usopp feel worse and. yeah. bit of a vicious cycle with them.
So it's like. Usopp can be weak with both of them, but since I see Sanji as the type of guy who'd be more open with his worries (at least compared to Zoro), there's less of a need to 'perform' and be his best self around him. He's comfortable around Zoro, yes, but he is constantly wanting to show that he won't be a problem to him. On the other hand, while he's more open with Sanji, and Sanji with him, they tend to relate a bit too much with each other and they both have issues with causing trouble for others and being 'deserving of love' so failed attempts at consoling one hurts the other and creates an unpleasant cycle of misery and avoidance before some other crewmate (Zoro) tells them to quit being stupid and just fucking talk to each other.
#one piece#sanuso#zosopp#long post#nemotime#does this make sense or is this the ramblings of a person who's only got 3 hrs sleep#bc thats me. 3 hrs sleep. ugh#listen okay its like. zosopp has their own growing pains to get through yknow? zoro will eventually get the whole#'oh usopp isnt as open with me bc he wants to seem tough and is also kind of doing the same thing i do. thats bad for him'#and it'll be a whole thing about making a promise between the two of them to try and be more honest with their fears and seeking help#when they need it#the sanuso thing is like. i hope i didnt mean to make it seem like sanuso is 'better' or w/e bc its just a different thing#sanuso got their own problems to sort out. 1. Sanji's everything 2. boundaries on special treatment-#i'm not gonna go seriously into this but both relationships start out not the best and get better over time yknow#also i know usopp's afraid and freaking out a lot but for this post i meant his deeper fears and insecurities#not 'i've got can't-go-on-this-island disease' lmao#the tl;dr of this post is: Usopp is more closed off with Zosopp. Usopp and Sanji have similar issues that cause problems with Sanuso.#also the way i see these ships will probably change at some point. who knows#there was a post i saw recently that was like 'hey sanuso bc romance trio were already chill with each other so sanuso became chill with#each other in an 'alone together' type of way and also they have the same issues' and i thought 'wow so true bestie' and here we are#also. man. usopp taking on / copying the behaviours of his loved ones regardless of his age is just. my jam. in a positive or negative way#maybe i'll make a post about that explaining it more. maybe
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aberooski · 17 days
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I love Taylor. I always have and to some degree I always will. She means too much to me and is such an important figure and source of joy and light in my life when I desperately needed, and a connection to my own father that I need desperately, to deny that I will always look on her fondly to some degree as silly as that may seem sometimes and to some people.
But that doesn't mean I don't/won't/can't be critical of her or be disappointed or disagree with choices she makes or has made, because I absolutely have been and I absolutely am.
My problem is that I always, with every fiber of my being, look for and try to see the best in people and believe in people until I absolutely can't anymore. Unless it's something truly reprehensible and irredeemable, my brain simply cannot comprehend the idea that one bad decision or mistake trust me I know she's made more than one lately can automatically invalidate or negate anything and everything good a person has ever done. I've genuinely tried to understand it and unfortunately, I can't wrap my head around the concept. I give grace to a fault. I get sad when I see things said about her in a negative light even when I completely understand and even agree, because I have so much love for her in my heart. It's that tride and true naive, blind optimism in me I guess.
But I do not in any way think she's a perfect person, I know she isn't, because nobody is. Some are just better at hiding that than others. She makes mistakes, she's wrong sometimes, she is a human being who messes up. Sometimes in big ways. And unfortunately she's messed up a few times over the last year or so and that makes me sad. It disappoints me because I love her so much, and I do want and expect better of her. And in the process of that, it makes me very sad that I feel like I have to hide the facet of myself that does still love her despite my disappointment in her or risk making people upset with me now because I'm so afraid of upsetting people. I'm terrified of doing or saying the wrong things I try so hard to do the best I can every day and it's disappointing to see her slip up. It's sad. It makes me very sad.
It's a complicated time to love her right now. I hope, in my heart of hearts, I sincerely hope that sooner rather than later it won't have to be that way anymore. Not just for me, but for all of us who feel that complexity or conflict of emotions.
#I don't know I'm just talking out my ass I just have a lot of thoughts running through my head I don't really know how to articulate well#I just always want to believe the best in people I don't like to judge people I don't like to condemn people or see that happen#unless someone is truly reprehensible and deserving of condemnation and I just don't feel in my heart that she is like some people do#I don't know maybe that makes me a bad person...? sometimes I feel like there are people who would think that it does and that makes me sad#I know I keep saying I don't know but I truly don't know. I'm just tired. sometimes I wish I didn't care#but the fact of the matter is that I do. I care about people I love people I want nothing but the best for people#I want to believe the best in people and in my heart I believe that she is the person I always thought she was. someone who is good and kin#who makes mistakes but is ultimately better for them because she learns from those mistakes and grows#or maybe I just want to believe she's like me and always looks for the best in people and sees the best in people to a fault#until she can't deny the truth anymore if they're not good people.#sometimes you blind yourself to the things in people or situations that you don't want to see until it's impossible to anymore#I know because I've been there. not in the same kinds of situations granted but I've blinded myself and hurt myself so much to hang on#I've ruined my entire life holding onto the past. not wanting to move on into the stage of my life I'm actually in#and trying to stay in my childhood as long as possible when the truth is it's long gone. i can't get it back.#but I can keep her. I can keep that piece of it. and oh god I want to. I pray to god the truth of her heart is revealed#and that that truth is good. that that truth is a relief and a reassurance to those like me and many others looking for it lately#maybe I'm just being naive I guess. but dammit I want to see light on the other side no matter what. it's a blessing and a curse sometimes.#I just want people to love each other and be kind to one another and coexist with one another peacefully... that's all I want... 😔#I want people to be able to love who and what they love without shame or fear to be who they are unapologetically without shame or fear#I just want love and hope and light in this world goddammit it shouldn't be as hard as it is these days 😔#I love you all. so much. no matter what. never forget that. ❤#abby's insomnia thoughts
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berryhoneypie · 7 months
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How did you learn how to be an adult? Like idk where to begin? I’m 19 and I’m still living at home so like how do you do it?
Aww first of all, you're 19 so it's completely normal to not have the answers to things! I think a lot of adulthood is learned through experience. I got my first taste of it when I started college and realized how hard things really are. I didn't have very involved parents growing up, so I think I had a little more independence at nineteen than some. I first started learning smaller chores like doing my own laundry, and learning how to cook. Learning how to cook is still one of the most valuable skills I have in my toolbox. At 19, you're not gonna have the skills a 28 year old will have. And that's okay! A lot of adulthood is "I have no idea what I'm doing but I have to do it anyway."
Once I graduated college, I was fully independent and living on my own. I started a career and all of a sudden had benefits and a 401K and I HATED IT!! I really struggled with the concept of having to work and I was dragging my feet for a really long time. Idk how but it eventually clicked in my head that money and work is just another tool in my toolbox to build the life I desire. I did a lot of internet research about budgeting and found a system that works to keep track of my bills and not overspend. Rent is expensive, groceries are expensive, student loans are expensive. Get one credit card with a $500 limit, do not put yourself into debt willingly. Keeping track of your money is one of the key skills you need, and learning how to budget will keep you ahead of your peers.
I’m also gonna shoehorn in, delete social media or at least limit your screen time. It’s meant to depress you and make you feel inadequate and insecure, don’t fall for it. And read more books!!
Although a lot of adulthood is fulfilling responsibility, it's also about deciding the kind of person you want to be. I like to picture myself at 30, 40, and 50 and think "is the path I'm on right now leading me to the person I crave to be?" You literally get to decide exactly how you want to live! How do you want to treat others? How do you take your coffee? How will you decorate your home? When faced with a crisis, how will you react? I believe a lot of maturity comes from self reflection and a desire to curate the life you deserve to live.
Your early 20s are full of learning experiences, being humbled, and learning how to carry stress without it ruining your life. I wasn't born knowing how car loans work, or insurance premiums, or credit scores. I learned about these when I bought a car for the first time, when I got my first insurance plan, and when I got my first credit card. Your early 20s can be really hard and sometimes scary since you're just starting out! All you can do is be gentle with yourself, and learn how to assume responsibility for your own life. No one is gonna teach you how to do things, you have to want to learn and seek the knowledge for yourself. I didn't really begin to grow up until this past year and it takes a lot of time and real world experience to get there! I'm about to be 26 and these things didn't really start to click until I was 25.
And being a grown up isn't always scary and hard. It also brings freedom. Yes I go to college full time and have a job and so many bills to pay. But I also have hobbies I've developed, I have friends to hang out with, and adventures to go on! When bills are paid and responsibilities are fulfilled, you can choose how to spend your free time. You will find balance between your inner child and your adulthood. You have to nurture your inner child while also honoring your future self. Adulthood isn't always bills and stress, it's also doing literally whatever you want because you can! Get comfortable with being alone, and embrace your relationship with yourself.
I didn't know how to do anything, until it was time to do it. You have a lot of time to figure things out, and a lot of it will come naturally without you even realizing. Remember to be patient, and that a lot this takes time. You have the capacity to become the person you want to be! We all do :)
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Text
And then there were three.
Eddie munson x pregnant!reader
Summary: you and Eddie find out you're pregnant.
Warnings: fluff, talks of pregnancy, pulling out, condoms etc. Talks of sex. Kissing.
WC: 2.5k
A/n not proofread. I'm posting because it's been rotting away in my drafts. Sorry if this isn't good. I don't even remember what it's about.
18+ minors dni
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"This can't be real..." You whispered to yourself as you stared blankly at the piece of plastic in your hands. Staring at two little pink lines.
Two little tiny pink lines telling you you're pregnant. How? You and Eddie have always been careful. You used protection every single time you had sex.
You've had scares in the past where your periods were weeks late. But when you ended up being over a month late this time around. You decided it was time to take a test. You had a gut feeling you might have been pregnant.
You were exhausted more so than usual. Extremely sensitive and had nausea every morning and evening. Were you surprised? No. Shocked? Yes. There was a little part of you hoping you were wrong. A baby right now just wasn't in yours and Eddie's plan.
You've only been dating for almost two years now. While having a family with him is something you do want. Getting a head start right now just wasn't ideal. You only just moved in together this past summer.
Now that you hold this little test strip in your shaking hands, you know you'll have to break the news to your boyfriend eventually. He's out in the living room watching The Golden Girls. A show you never would have guessed was his favorite. You heard his laughter echoing around the trailer during the cheesecake episode.
Was he going to be mad? Would he scream and yell at you? Blame this all on you? You thought to yourself. You felt like you were going to throw up out of nervousness.
No. Eddie wouldn't be upset with you over something like this. He isn't that type of person. No matter how others viewed him to be. He isn't like that. You can't even remember a time he raised his voice to you. You soothed yourself down, taking deep breaths.
Opening up the bathroom door, you make your way over to him.
"Hey baby, come watch." He pats the cushion next to him.
You swallow hard. "Uh, can we turn this off for a sec?"
Eddie looks up, noticing there was something very wrong with you.
"Uh, sure." He grabbed the remote, switching the tv off.
"Well, there isn't any better way to tell you this, so I'm just gonna say......I'm pregnant." You blurted out.
Eddie laughed at first. "Pregnant. Okay." He takes a sip of his beer. His laughter quickly died when you saw the serious and very scared look on your face.
"You took a test?" He gulped.
"Yeah, just a few minutes ago." You swallow another lump in your throat.
You immediately start to panic again, "We're always careful. I don't know how this happened."
Eddie stands to quickly be by your side. He hasn't really had time to process what you just told him. His immediate focus right now is calming you down.
We're careful...WE'RE ALWAYS CAREFUL!" You shouted. Your face is growing hot, and you feel like you could pass out any moment.
"You always wear a condom you fuckin' keep them in your wallet for christ sake"
"I know, baby, but I mean those things don't always work," Eddie reassured you softly, rubbing your back.
"We're always careful." You repeated again.
"Well, let's think back to when we weren't careful." He's trying to help put the pieces together. There had to have been a time when you both were so caught up in each that he didn't put on a condom or something.
"When was there a time I didn't at least wear one?"
"I dunno." You tap your fingers against your forehead. While Eddie guides you to sit down on the couch. "There had to have been a night - where - we..." You trailed off.
"My parents," you gasped loudly, snapping your fingers together.
His brows shoot up, and his eyes widen. He suddenly remembers that night very, very well. But he pulled out. He knows he did.
"When we stayed the night because of the storm" You continued on. The memory of that night flooding back to you. That was it. Eddie had promised to pull out right before he finished - yet obviously didn't do it in enough time.
There was something in the air that day. You couldn't pinpoint what it was. You had told Eddie to behave, but at dinner, you were the one misbehaving. Teasing him a little. Trying to get a rise out of him. You didn't think he was still going to be worked up even after it was time for bed. You were wrong. Very wrong.
"Huh," Eddie sounded utterly perplexed. He moves to sit down next to you. trying to bring you any amount of comfort he can offer.
"Huh what?" You repeated back to him. Why wasn't he as freaked out like you?
"Jus' the fact that I got you pregnant on a pull out couch is fucking ironic" He was in disbelief. Absolute disbelief. He knew pulling out wasn't his strong suit, but he never thought from just that one time would get you pregnant.
Was Eddie upset you were pregnant? No. Not at all. Having kids with you was something he always saw in your future together. How could he be so stupid, though? He thought. The one time he doesn't use a condom and you get knocked up.
"Are you--are you joking right now?" Your mouth hangs open. "Don't joke, please don't joke."
"Hey, hey, it's okay. Everything will be okay. " He pulls you to him. Your head lays flat against his chest. He was trying to be supportive, but on the inside he's freaking out. When he freaks out, he makes dumb jokes to lighten the mood. Something he knows he shouldn't have done, but it's too late now.
"Sooooo at yours parents place it was then." He draws out leaning forward to rest a hand under his chin.
"I guess." You murmured.
Eddie smiles fondly to himself. He most definitely remembered that day. That night, most importantly.
"....well," He perks up, jumping up to stand. He was trying to be as optimistic as possible. Truthfully, on the inside, he was freaking out. If you weren't sitting there in front of him right now, he would probably be pissing himself. Eddie knows you would be an amazing mother to his children. He most definitely knows he would be a great father, too. A complete contrast to how his father was.
"Time to make some calls." He was already heading for the phone when you panicked, running over to stop him. "We can't not yet--i need to see a doctor first."
"To make sure I am...I mean I know I am, but I need confirmation,"you further explained. Eddie just stood there listening to you and agreed as he silently nodded his head.
"Okay, well, after we see the doctor, who are we telling first? Your parents or my parent?" He was so eager to tell everyone. He was terrified, but the more he thought about it, the more excited he became. A tiny little version of you and him mashed together, running around.
"We'll tell Wayne first." You said matter of factly. You loved your parents, but you were closer to his uncle. He was like a second father to you, and you couldn't imagine anyone else knowing before him.
Eddie smiles and leans down to kiss the corner of your mouth.
"You scared?" He whispered leaning his forehead against yours.
...a-a little, but we'll be fine." You whispered back. The longer it sinks in that you're pregnant, the panic seems to fade. Eddie wasn't angry with you. He was scared you could tell but that's to be expected.
"Don't be scared, baby. We're doing this together." He reassured before kissing your lips softly again. "M'gonna take care of you both."
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It's been three weeks since you took your pregnancy test and had your doctor's visit. They confirmed you were, in fact, expecting. Two months, to be exact. You were greatfull you got pregnant in the winter. Oversized sweaters and hoodies were your best friends. Now, it was time to break the news to everyone.
Eddie and you had already agreed. Wayne was going to be the first to know. You had everything planned out. You had told Eddie to call his uncle and ask if he wanted to go out for dinner. Knowing Wayne, he wasn't going to pass up on an opportunity to spend time with either of you.
You wanted to surprise him with a gift. You know Wayne has a green thumb. He loves to garden. He brags about how he has the best tomatoes in Indiana. So you took Eddie shopping for the perfect gift to give to him as a cute way to tell him you and his nephew are having a baby. You hope he'll catch on and figure out he's going to be a grandpa when he opens his present. It's a little onesie with "Home grown" embroidered on the front with little veggies.
"I like this one." You pointed at the cute little outfit on the hanger.
Eddie chuckled,reading the front. "Wayne's gonna love it. Hell won't be surprised if he tried wearing it." He joked, picking up the tiny shirt off the rack.
You giggled, "I can't wait to tell him."
"Me too, I can't keep my mouth shut for much longer." He mumbled, smirking at some of the funny sayings scribbled on the baby clothes.
The longer you came to terms with the fact that you're pregnant, your stress eased up. Sure, you were still scared, but you had Eddie and your friends. Plus your family. You reassured yourself almost daily that you'd be fine and to enjoy your pregnancy. Every single article of clothing you saw you bought. Didn't matter the color or size. If it was cute, you picked it up.
Eddie was a nervous wreck in the beginning but concealed it well. Mostly because he knew he needed to be there for you. he was also excited, too. He couldn't wait to share his hobbies with his little one. Read them bedtime stories. Sing to them at night before bed. Teach them to play an instrument or two. He looked forward to showing up to the PTA meetings in his battle vest with his sweet "mini me" on his hip.
Eddie knew he was going to be a good dad. He promised you and the baby still in your tummy every night he'd protect the both of you. He couldn't keep his hands off your belly. You weren't far along in your pregnancy, but Eddie was constantly hoping he could feel a little kick.
"We should do the dinner today." Eddie mentioned holding a handful of baby clothes.
"He might wanna to do it tomorrow since he's off."
"I'll call'em when we get home and ask. he can't say no to me." You agreed. It's true Wayne can't say no to you. Which you will take advantage of.
Later on that day after you and Eddie arrived home. You put Wayne's surprise in a little gift bag with a note attached to it.
Picking up the phone, you began dialing his number patiently, waiting for him to pick up. He should be home by now. You thought. "Hey Wayne, it's me, your favorite. I was wondering if you wanted to go out to dinner with me and Eddie tonight instead of tomorrow? "
Eddie leaned closer over in the wooden chair sat by the dining room table. He scoffs when he heard you get extatic on the other end. Knowing full well, his uncle said yes.
"You will? Okay, we'll pick you up at five o'clock sharp."
"Favorite, huh?" He crossed his arms with a smirk.
"You know it." You playfully mess up his hair as you run to your bedroom to get ready.
"Yeah, well, I've known him longer... I have seniority over him!" Eddie yelled out, teasing you.
He gets up from his chair, making his way to your shared bedroom. He stands there leaning in the doorway. Admiring you getting undressed in front of him. Taking in every curve on your figure.
Eddie moves to wrap his arms around you from behind. Pulling your back tight to his chest. His nose buried in the crook of your neck. You smiled softly, melting into his arms.
"Ya know, I was reading that baby book you bought it said something about sex helping induce labor." He whispered seductively in your ear. His lips trailing light kisses down your neck.
You turned your head."...Eddie, that's not until months from now." You let out a breathy laugh.
"Yeah, but just think about how well prepared you'll be when the time comes - kid is just gonna slide right out." Eddie argued. You know half of him is joking, and the other half is completely serious.
"Get dressed, babe. we leave in thirty minutes." You peel yourself from his tight grasp.
"Offer still stands." He holds up his hands in surrender.
Fifteen minutes went by, and there was a loud knock at your front door. His uncle had driven over so you all could ride together. After much bickering from Wayne, you all packed in Eddie's van.
Wayne refused to let Eddie drive, so it was you and him upfront with your boyfriend sulking in the backseat. Mumbling to himself about how he's not that bad and how everyone else just drives slow.
You noticed Eddie's uncle looking at the small gift bag you made up for him. His eyes kept wandering over to guess who it was for and what was inside.
Once all three of you pulled up in front of the new local diner in Hawkins. You three gathered in and let the hostess walk you over to your table. You and Eddie sat next to each other in a booth, leaving wayne alone across from you. The waitress comes over taking everyone's orders. After she left, you figured it was the perfect time to give it to him.
You look up at Eddie, nudging his side to grab his attention. His uncle just got done scolding him over his breaks needing change.
"So uh, we got you a present," Eddie coughed. He doesn't think he can handle more lectures from the man who practically raised him.
But he straightened up his back, preparing for anything.
"Yep here you go hope you like it." You picked up the bad next to you and placing it front of him.
"For me?" Wayne grabbed it and started taking the tissue paper out. "It ain't ma' birthday yet."
He laughs when he pulls out the tiniest little shirt he's ever seen. "Home grown, that's cute...I don't think it's gonna fit me though darlin-."
He cuts his sentence, short eyes growing wider by the second. You and Eddie look over at each other, smiling from ear to ear.
"Is this what I think it is?." Wayne questioned with tears threatening to spill over his lashes.
"Yep we're having a baby." Eddie moved to wrap an arm over your shoulder and pulling into his side.
"We wanted to tell you first." You choked back a sob.
Wayne still gathering his thoughts. He's holding the small onesie in his hand like he's already holding your newborn baby.
"I-I'm gonna be a grandpa?" Wayne wiped at his eyes. His was starting to become overwhelmed.
Here come the tears from Eddie now. His eyes swelling up and nose turning red. He's never seen Wayne this over come with emotions before. The only time he's ever seen him like that is when his dad started his usual mess. That was always just out of anger and frustrations mostly. This was pure joy and happiness. Wayne has always wanted the best for his nephew.
"We're thinking of naming them, Ozzy." Eddie tried to joke and lighten the mood.
Wayne couldn't say anything but only shake his head at nephew. He cleared his throat, grabbing napkins from the dispenser on the table.
"We are not." You spoke up, wiping your eyes.
Your food finally came, and the waitress gave all three of you a concerned look. A table full of adults bawling their eyes out is a cause of concern. Especially in this town. It was only when she noticed the tiny onesie folded up neatly beside wayne on the table, did her worry look drop. She mumbled a soft aww and set everyone's food down.
"Congratulations to all of you." She said with a warm smile.
The rest of the night went on like normal. Except now instead of Wayne fussing at Eddie for not eating healthy. He was doing that to both of you. Telling you how you need to order seconds because you're eating for two. Informing Eddie how the trailer needs to be baby proofed immediately. The only thing left to do was tell your parents next and his friends. You can only assume which of the two is going to freak out the most.
You leaned over and whispered to Edde, "You wanna tell Dustin next ooooor-?"
He side eyed you. " We're telling your parents next - if it makes you feel better, I'll be on the phone so they can yell at me instead."
"Deal?" Eddie leaned back in the booth, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. He was busy focusing on Wayne's ranting and your concerns about telling your parents.
You sighed, dreading that phone call, but knowing it needs to be done. "deal."
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harrysfolklore · 11 days
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omg i have a question for the bitchy carlos fic -
so nicole piastri came on red flags podcast recently and spoke about oscar and his childhood, what if there’s an au segment of her talking about older piastri & what would his reaction be
okay this turned out being way longer than intended bc i added the scene of carlos and nicole meeting bc why not, i hope i'm not annoying you with too much little bitch content, i'll promise i'll post for other drivers now READ LITTLE BITCH HERE
Host: "So, Nicole, we've heard a lot about Oscar's journey to F1, but what can you tell us about his relationship with his sister, YN? She has quite the personality online, doesn't she? Can you tell us about their relationship growing up?
Nicole:"Oh, those two. They've always had such a special bond. YN is a few years older than Oscar and yes, she's known as the Piastri who fights people online, but she's always been fiercely protective of him. From the moment YN first held Oscar as a baby, she appointed herself his protector. It was adorable and sometimes a bit much, but always came from a place of love.
Host: Can you give us an example?
Nicole: "When Oscar was about six and YN was maybe nine. Oscar had just started school and was having trouble making friends. He was quite shy back then, if you can believe it. One day, YN overheard some kids teasing Oscar in the playground."
Host: "Oh no, what happened?"
Nicole: "Well, YN marched right up to those boys and she told them off in no uncertain terms. She said, and I quote, 'My brother is going to be a famous race car driver one day, and you'll all be asking for his autograph. So you'd better be nice to him now!' The boys were so shocked they just stood there with their mouths open."
Host:"That's amazing! Did it help Oscar?"
Nicole: "It did, actually. Oscar was so impressed by his big sister standing up for him that it gave him a confidence boost. And you know what? Some of those boys ended up becoming his good friends. They still joke about YN's 'prophecy' coming true now that Oscar's in F1."
Host: "That's such a heartwarming story! It's clear YN has always been protective of Oscar. Now, speaking of relationships, we've heard that YN is dating Carlos Sainz. Can you tell us a bit about how that came to be?"
Nicole: "Oh, that's an interesting story! YN actually told us she was dating Carlos a while back, but we weren't surprised at all. We knew she liked him since that time in Singapore last year when our family visited. YN was trying so hard to act mad about Carlos' win, but it was obvious she was impressed."
Host: "So you had suspicions before they even got together?"
Nicole: "Absolutely! Even before that Singapore trip, YN used to go on these multiple rants about, in her words, 'this arrogant Spaniard' who kept pushing Oscar off track. She called him something I won't repeat but I'm pretty sure everyone knows it, it absolutely irritated her. But you know what? We all knew that deep down, she had a crush on him."
Host: "That's quite the turnaround! Have you met Carlos — as YN’s partner this time — yet?"
Nicole: "I haven’t, actually. I’m hoping to do that in Baku after the summer break. But I can see Carlos brings out a softer side of YN that we don't often see in public. Don't get me wrong, she's still fiercely stubborn and outspoken, but with Carlos, there's this gentleness that comes out. He seems to really understand and appreciate her passion, and he's not intimidated by her strong personality at all. In fact, he seems to admire it."
Host: "It sounds like they complement each other well. How has Oscar taken to their relationship?"
Nicole: "Oscar's been very supportive. I think he appreciates seeing his sister happy, and of course, it doesn't hurt that Carlos is someone he respects on the track. It's actually quite funny to see YN now, cheering for both Oscar and Carlos during races. She's always torn between wanting Oscar to win and not wanting Carlos to lose."
Host: "That's nice, Carlos sounds like quite the gentleman. Has YN picked up any Spanish since they started dating?"
Nicole: "Oh, that's actually a funny story. We love to tease YN about this. You see, she failed Spanish in high school - couldn't conjugate a verb to save her life. And now here she is, dating a Spaniard! Carlos has been trying to teach her, but let's just say it's a work in progress. She can now order a beer and ask where the bathroom is, so I suppose that's progress!"
Host: "That's hilarious! I'm sure she'll be fluent in no time."
Nicole: "Bless her, she's really trying. She's determined to have a full conversation with Carlos' parents in Spanish by the end of the year. We'll see how that goes!"
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ynpiastri our queen is here !! and no one is ready
tagged: nicolepiastri
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username1 NICOLE PIASTRI IS THE MOMENT
username2 SLAY THE HOUSE BOOTS DOWN
mclaren Icon 🧡
lilyzneimer the besttttt 💓
username3 IS SHE MEETING CARLOS ??
username4 oh i can’t wait to see our queen giving carlos a run for his money again
landonorris Coolest ever
↳ ynpiastri her favorite will always be yuki don’t even try it
↳ username1 HEEEELP
yukitsunoda5511 Nicole is brat
↳ username2 I LOVE THEM 😭
oscarpiastri I’m ready, your boyfriend however…
↳ username3 LOOOOORDDD
↳ username1 POOR CARLOS
↳ ynpiastri leave him alone 😤😤
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Baku had a special energy during race weekends. The tight streets and high-pressure atmosphere gave you a mixture of excitement and nerves, but today, the butterflies in your stomach had nothing to do with the Grand Prix. Instead, it was about the lunch you were about to have, where Carlos would meet your mom—officially, as your boyfriend this time.
You walked through the paddock with Carlos by your side, his hand wrapped around yours. Oscar was a few steps ahead, casually walking toward the hospitality area where no other than Nicole Piastri waited. She had met Carlos briefly before, like many of the other drivers, but this was different. He wasn’t just a name on the grid anymore—he was the man you were dating, and Carlos seemed to be nervous about the meeting.
"You think she likes me?" Carlos adjusted his hat for what felt like the hundredth time, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.
"Carlos, she’s going to love you," you couldn’t help but smile at his nerves, "She already does. But, you know... as a mum, she's entitled to give you a little hard time."
"That’s what I’m worried about," Carlos chuckled, but his smile was still tight, "I just want to make a good impression, you know?"
"You will," you assured him, squeezing his hand. "Just be yourself."
Oscar slowed down, overhearing your conversation and grinning like he already knew how this would play out. "Mum’s gonna grill you, mate," he teased, throwing a glance back at Carlos. "She’s been waiting for this."
"Not helping, Oscar," you muttered, giving your brother a playful shove. He just smirked, clearly enjoying himself.
When you finally reached the hospitality tent, your mom was already seated at a table, smiling warmly as she saw you all approach. She stood up to greet you, wrapping you in a familiar hug before turning to Carlos with that same welcoming smile—though you knew there was a glint of mischief behind it.
“Carlos, it’s so good to see you again,” she greeted, shaking his hand.
"It’s great to see you too, Mrs. Piastri," Carlos said, his polite smile fixed on his face. His Spanish charm was dialed up a notch, but you could still feel the slight tension in his grip as he held your hand.
“Please, call me Nicole,” she said, taking her seat again. “I’m not that formal, especially not with my daughter’s boyfriend.”
As you all settled into your seats, you couldn't help but notice the amused glances Oscar and your mom were exchanging. You knew that look—they were up to something.
"So," Nicole began, her eyes twinkling with mischief, "how long have you two been together again?"
You glanced at Carlos, who seemed to relax a bit as he answered, "About two months officially, right, cariño?"
You nodded, but before you could add anything, your mom raised an eyebrow. "And unofficially?"
"Mum!" you said as you felt your cheeks heat up.
Oscar, who had taken a seat across from you, let out a low chuckle, clearly enjoying the show. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, watching the dynamic unfold.
"That’s what I thought," she teased, making Oscar let out a loud laugh.
You felt your face grow even hotter as your mom's implications hung in the air. Carlos, to his credit, managed to maintain his composure, though you noticed a slight redness creeping up his neck.
"Well," Carlos cleared his throat, his accent a bit thicker than usual, "I think it's safe to say we've known each other for quite some time now."
"Oh, I remember. You two weren't exactly friendly at first, were you?"
"That's putting it mildly, Mum," Oscar snorted, "Remember the time she came home absolutely fuming after a race? She was ranting about 'that little bi—'"
"Oscar!" you cut him off, "We don't need to relive that."
Carlos squeezed your hand under the table, clearly amused. "No, please, I'd love to hear about this."
"Oh mate, you should've heard her," Oscar spoke again, "'Carlos this, Carlos that.' I swear, she talked about you more when she hated you than she does now."
"I did not!" you protested, but your brother's knowing smirk told you he wasn't buying it.
"It's true," your mum added, her eyes dancing with laughter. "I remember thinking, 'This girl protests too much.' I had a feeling even then that all that anger was hiding something else."
You groaned, hiding your face in your hands. "I can't believe this is happening."
Carlos wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. "It's okay, hermosa. I love to hear these stories."
You looked up at him, seeing the warmth in his eyes. It was hard to believe that those same eyes had once glared at you across the paddock.
Nicole smiled, watching the two of you with that familiar mom look—part teasing, part proud. "Well, now look at you. I guess all that bickering was just a cover-up for how much you liked each other."
"You’ve gone soft," Oscar rolled his eyes dramatically. "I kinda miss the days when you’d call each other names."
"Don’t worry," you muttered, giving Carlos a playful glare. "He’s still a little bitch sometimes."
Carlos laughed, his arm tightening around you as he kissed the top of your head. "And you’re still my favorite enemy turned girlfriend."
Your mom let out a satisfied sigh, leaning back in her chair. "I knew it all along."
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ddejavvu · 4 days
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mean logan checking the length of your skirts and shorts before you leave the house,flipping it up and spanking you when it doesn’t go past your fingertips!
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Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader
contents/warnings: smut, minors dni. mean!logan, spanking, don't like don't read.
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There's a very fine line between the clothes in your closet that Logan purchased for himself, and the clothes in your closet that Logan purchased for you. There are outfits that are suitable for outside use, and then there's- outfits that are not. Lingerie sets that would make everyday wear impossibly uncomfortable, shirts that are made to expose you, stockings that are for Logan's eyes only. But there's a skirt you're yearning to wear today, shorter than you'd usually wear outside but just long enough that you can sneak it past Logan and enjoy a cute outfit in.
But on your way out the door, you're reminded, of course, that you can't sneak anything past Logan. Perhaps the only person who knows your wardrobe better than yourself is him, and in hindsight, it's no surprise that he clocks the white skirt on your waist as being the one you'd bent over the counter for him in only days prior.
"Stop." He calls from the kitchen, stalking towards you where you'd been about to slip out the door, "How long is that skirt?"
"It's long enough," You lie, "Please, Logan, I'm gonna be late!"
"Your friends can wait for you. Put your hands down, I want to measure."
You know you're in for it when you feel your fingertips press easily against your bare skin instead of fabric. They're well past the hem of your skirt and you know it, but you'd been hoping to slip past Logan for the way it matches your top perfectly.
"Nice try." He sneers, grabbing the hem of your skirt and flipping it upwards to expose your ass. The panties you've chosen aren't skimpy, but they're not exactly full-coverage, which means that when he lands a hard smack on your ass you feel it with no barrier in between.
"'Barely even had to lift it. What the hell were you doing, going out in something as short as that? Shit, they would have charged you with indecent exposure."
"That's not true," Your hand flies to rub the sore skin of your ass, shielding it from another slap even though Logan could easily drag it out of the way if he wanted to, "It just made my top look cute!"
He does drag your hand out of the way, giving you mere seconds to prepare for another slap. You cry out- this one hurts, skin still raw from the first one as he watches your complexion change. Whether it's growing richly red or black-and-blue, surely something must be showing on your skin from how roughly he's smacking your exposed ass.
"Bullshit. You don't wear this one outside of the house, you know that. Go and change, unless-" Logan looks at you with a quirked brow, one that sends a funny twisting sensation below your stomach, "-you want everyone to see my handprint?"
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kushnovice · 17 days
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Be Mine Again
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x ex! reader
Synopsis: Reader and Bucky have been broken up for a short time, fighting often and rarely seeing eye to eye. Bucky starts to fall into a bad mental space while a mission goes wrong.
wc: 2.8k
Warnings: fighting of all kinds, bucky being depressed and cold, angsty at the beginning, blood, choking, Zola being sadistic, not the best. if i made any mistakes please lmk :)
AN: Female reader, angst with little comfort (yet), lots of mistakes, self indulgent, it sucks but i had fun making it so i hope some people enjoy it. if so I'll write a part 2
"I broke my rules for you! I bended my morals for you, again! I had to change everything I believe in, yet again!" She yelled out at the tall and broad man in front of her as his hand tightened against his glass of ice water, jaw clenching.
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The kitchen of the Avengers Tower was very cold and filled with tense air, thick enough to cut with a knife. Bucky deeply groaned as he placed his glass onto the table with a loud thud, "I never asked you to do that. I never asked you to care about me, you did that all yourself." Bucky's hand ran up into his hair showing how stressed out he is at the moment, he had never been one to enjoy fighting, actually he hated it. Almost as much as he hated her."Don't you care about me? About us?" She questioned with a huff as her arms swung to her hips. "Truth is," Bucky stood up, slowly walking toward her with each word, "I'm tired. So fucking tired of you that you always have been nothing more than an obligation." Bucky's lip raised in a scowl. The hurt was written on her face but immediately gone as she grumbled and pushed Bucky back by the chest. "I'm done helping you." She sucked in a breath, "Did it ever occur to you that your hurting me or are you just that selfish and arrogant?"
Before she could react, his glass that was once on the table was now shattering against the wall on the far side of the room as he stormed off quickly, slamming the door shut in the process. Bucky made his way through the winding hallways with his fists clenched tightly to the point his knuckles were white. He couldn't stand when she would act like this, after everything they had been through together, she had promised she would stay no matter what. She was always just like the others, except Bucky couldn't get her out of his mind.
Bucky swings open Steve's door and slams it behind him as he paces back and forth through Steve's room. Steve sighed as he placed his book to the side on his bed and looked at Bucky. "What happened this time?" Bucky groaned deeply, "I told her about the mission we are going on later this week and she flipped out on me." He grabbed a workout dumbbell off the ground and started to work out his human arm by doing bicep curls. "She keeps telling me that she can't deal with me trying to track down and kill every single person that was ever or is currently apart of Hydra, that this mission we are going on is a trap." His breath becomes uneven as says breathy words under his tongue as his annoyed attitude has not faltered in the slightest. Steve rolled his eyes at the drama going on between the not so couple right now. "You do realize that she's scared of losing you, especially more since she's already lost you as a partner." Steve sighed deeply, being the person that both of them had come to confide in about their problems. "And with the Hydra thing, it's tricky because I know you want to move past it, and it was such a hard time of your life but there are better ways to grow past it, Buck." Steve talked softly as his kind blue eyes pierced through Bucky, hoping he would accept his words of advice but seeing how Bucky was instantly throwing the weight around as if it weighed nothing due to his anger, Steve knew Bucky wasn't truly hearing him.
Bucky dropped the weight at Steve's words, "Better ways, huh. there're better ways for everything but does that mean it's always achievable? No." Bucky looked at Steve almost desperately, "I don't want to lose her but if I don't do this, I feel like I might lose myself." Bucky sighed as he looked at the weight on the ground before picking it back up again. "What's rule number 3, Buck?" Steve asks knowing how Bucky's rage and trauma is having a profound impact on his own mental health. "What would they think about you after you murder them all?" Steve questions, knowing that if Bucky were to kill them then people would believe that Bucky was the Winter Solider still, or just a cold killer."Who cares, they took everything from me. They took me away from myself." Bucky stormed out of Steve's room in frustration and made his way to his room with loud footsteps as he carried his empty duffle bag.
Bucky's mind was whirling with angry thoughts about how no one understands him and the one person that did, was no longer a happy part of his life. He angrily shoves his clothes and weapons as well as his dog tags and anything else he would need into his duffle bag. Bucky fit everything he needed perfectly into his duffle bag and sat it by the door before he slouched down onto his bed. He rubbed his temple as he exhaled a deep sigh, wishing he could understand life like he did back in the 40's.
"If you feel it so necessary to risk your life so that you can battle an internal fight, then I'm coming too." She swung the door open as she placed down her duffle bag with confidence and stubbornness. Bucky groaned and ran his hands through his hair again, stressed out, knowing that she won't back down. "If you keep doing that, you'll go bald before you're ancient." She giggled snarky as Bucky narrowed his eyes at her seriously. "If you're coming, you're staying in the plane. Eyes in the sky." She rolled her eyes but stayed silent knowing that putting up another fight was worthless.
They made their way to the airplane with slow steps as the tension around them stayed present even in the silence as they walked feet from each other. Bucky's eyes were unable to focus on anything other than her, her hair, her body, her clothes, the way she held herself. He knew he shouldn't think about her like this after their no so soft break up but he couldn't help himself. He was snapped out of it when Steve talked to him on the plane, "Buck, why is she joining us?" He asked as he looked at her getting comfortable in a seat on the plane as if it was her mission to be on. Bucky sighed, "I didn't want to fight her anymore. She will stay on the plane the whole time." Steve nodded in understanding, "We got this." Bucky chuckled, "As long as you don't blow the whole thing trying to 'save the world'" Steve chuckled along with him. The plane ride was silent as they quickly made it to the main hydra headquarters with Steve occasionally talking about the mission and the plan.
When they arrive at the place, Steve and Bucky easily jump out of the plane, landing exactly where they needed too to be at the top of the Hydra roof. She got comfortable on the plane with the coms on, cameras on, and trackers on but she couldn't settle the anxiety creeping up her spine. She tried to push it down as she figured that since she was watching and listening to them and that nothing would go wrong. That's what she had wished for, but not all dreams come true.
After the two men had entered the building, an alarm went off causing the rooms to blare nosies and lights to shine red and white in an emergency. They quickly move to the wall, Bucky had his gun up as his eyes glared through the top of the barrel with intense focus as he lead them through the hallway while Steve had his shield up as well as his arm to help brace himself for any situation that could happen. The lights continued to strobe with the blaring alarm as they swiftly and quietly made their way through the headquarters. As Bucky rounded a corner, there was a Hydra solider waiting for them. He fired his gun quickly multiple times causing bullets to go into his shoulder, his arm, and his stomach. Steve quickly threw his shield at the Hydra solider causing him to go unconscious and drop to the floor with a thud. "Buck?" Steve turnt around quickly as he grabbed Bucky's shoulders to help him stay up as he is loosing a lot of blood.
"What's going on?" She asked through the coms as the anxiety in her stomach started to bubble up yet again. "Why aren't you guys moving?" She impatiently waited for an answer as she tapped her fingertips against the desk, staring at the screen of their tracker and trying to find them on the camera system. "Everything's fine," Bucky growls out in a snap. Over the coms she can hear Steve groan, "Bucky got hit, three times." he explains to her and while his words are processing, her heart beat increases dramatically. "I'm fine." Bucky growled out as he continued to make his way down the hallway with Steve closely behind him. She watches as the dots move slowly down the hallway on the tracker, Her anxiety roaring.
Suddenly the screen starts to glitch out, becoming unreadable entirely. She began to panic internally as she starts to talk on the coms, "what's goin' on?" She asks to no response but loud sounds like a frequency is blocking communication. She groans deeply as her anxiety is coming up through her stomach and settling at her chest as she makes her way up and slings a gun around her torso to make her way out of the plane which is now landed at the waiting point. She runs through the clearing and gets to the door, trying to open it to no avail, she uses her body weight next to slam against the door, again to no avail. Sounds of yelling and screaming stop her in her tracks as the anxiety now feels like an elephant sitting on her chest. Looking around, she spot a window and she uses the back gun barrel to break the glass, making sure it's safe before she climbs inside. When she gets inside it is dark and eerily quiet, she cautiously take slow and soft steps and she keeps her gun up on guard as she search's for Steve and Bucky. She shoves open a door which reveals a pitch dark room, She is hesitant to go in until She hears Bucky whimpering in the darkness. She quickly makes her way inside, "Buck?" She whispered as the door shuts behind her, she hears the door click causing her to turn back to the door to see someone outside the door flick the lights on to reveal Bucky on the ground bleeding out from multiple injuries, she ran up to him immediately.
"Oh Buck..." She sighed deeply and she glare up at the person behind the door. The mysterious person presses a button with a smirk before they turn and makes their way out of eyesight from her. She hears a hissing sound causing her to look up to see a gas coming out of a huge vent in the room, the barley visible smoke filling the floor as it causes Bucky to cough an incredible amount and making his injuries worse. The smoke filled the room and eventually her lungs as she can feel the smoke burning her airway. She coughs violently in sync with Bucky, trying to stay conscious and aware but it becomes more challenging as the world starts spinning and her eyes get heavier. Bucky suddenly stops coughing causing her to know that he fell victim to the gas, she tried to fight it as long as possible as she held herself up against a table but still inevitably fail as she fell to the ground with a loud thud as she went unconscious.
When she woke up, everything was groggy and the room is spinning and her chest feels heavy with more than just anxiety. She groaned out in pain when she turn to look around to see her hands and legs tied up to the arms and legs of a chair while she was also tied around the torso. Turning her head, she saw Bucky sitting there tied up the same as her, him still unconscious though. "Bucky!" She whisper shouted trying to get him awake, whispering his name loudly multiple times in hopes of him waking up. "Bu-" She gets interrupted by the sound of a door opening causing her to fall silent as she watches the darkness to see someone emerge from it. "Well, Well, Well. Look what we have here. The world's most dangerous assassin..." The person walks towards us to reveal its Zola dressed in his white coat. "And his little toy." Zola smirks at us. "What do you want with us? Bucky isn't under your control anymore." She speaks deeply and firmly even through the anxiety and fear that is ever so present. Zola chuckles at her question as he leans down and grabs Bucky's unconscious face, holding his face up by the chin, his fingernails digging into Bucky's cheek, leaving red to glow off of Bucky's face. "I want him." Zola lets Bucky's face go with no regard for him. His head falls back down as Zola shifts his attention back to her. "I can't have him with you around. With you here. He has something to fight for." Zola leaned in close enough to her face that she could smell him the smell of rubber and overpriced Calonge on his body, he smelt like fake money. "I'm going to make him lose everything. Anything he loved or ever will love in the future, I will destroy."
Zola pushed some of the hair that had fallen in front of her face behind her ear, "And that starts with you, Darling." Zola had a maniacal smile on, his twisted face that contorted the anxiety in her stomach from anxiety into fear and anger. Her anxiety and fear had instantly turned into rage as Zola kept speaking, her jaw clenching and veins popping out of her neck and forehead. "I'll kill you." Her voice growls deeply with hatred as she struggled against the restraints roughly with harsh movements. Zola couldn't help the chuckle that escapes his lip. "Or you'll die trying, sweetheart." He exclaimed with a smirk on his face, "You'll be fun to play with." Zola runs his fingers softly down her face as she holds a scowl and her eyes bore into him with rage.
A soft voice croaks out, "Don't touch her..." Bucky's horse and rough voice speaks out as he raises his head to assess the situation as the gas wears off. Zola smirked as he trailed his fingers down her face and down her jawline and to her throat where he roughly grabs it with a tight grasp causing her to gasp out at a loss for air. "You take orders, Soldat. You don't give them." Zola says as his dark eyes meet Bucky's whose eyes are dark and cold, his glare unwavering as his jaw clenched. Bucky thrashes around in the restraints, easily breaking out as he saw you under Zola hold, anger filling his body with red heat as he stands up in front of Zola, dark eyes that would send shivers down the body of a normal person. "Let. Her. Go." Bucky's rough voices speaks out firmly as he towers over Zola, he smirks as he lets go of her but reaches into his pocket and injects Bucky with a syringe causing Bucky to be disoriented and out of it as he stumbles backwards. "Stay away from her!" He yells in frustration as he tries to move close to her despite the drugs and ultimately failing.
"Bucky! Stop trying to save me. They want you." She speaks out firmly through her coughs and deep breaths. Bucky growled at her statement, "I will never stop fighting for you, defending you, protecting you. Over my dead body will I let you get hurt." Bucky's deep voiced traveled through the room as it sent shivers down her body. Zola moved to Bucky, grabbing him by the back of the neck like a kitten and forces him down to the ground as he digs Bucky's head into the ground before quickly chaining him up, Bucky being easier to restrain with the drugs in his system. Zola squatted down to make eye contact with Bucky, his eyes digging into Bucky's with determination. "I will destroy you. You'll be mine again."
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nenedominik · 10 months
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I've always been better with drawings than words, but today I want to try to express my thoughts and open up to you.
Today we “celebrates” the #tdor , Transgender Day of Remembrance, where we remember our trans siblings who lost their lives to discrimination and transphobia. We are here to remember their names even if we have never really known them, we get together and remember them to ensure that what happened to them never happens to any trans person again.
I'm tired of hearing about trans people tragically losing their lives, I'm tired of being afraid of coming out because I don't know who I have in front of me, what could happen if this person reacted badly. I am lucky enough to have my family and friends next to me, but unfortunately I am a lucky case not as common as it should be... I want to be close and hug all my siblings who have no one next to them, tell them that they are strong and that I will be there even if there are seas and mountains to divide us, but unfortunately my voice will never be strong enough to reach everyone.
I thank those who support me and those next to me, I hope that sooner or later these victims will be just a painful memory of a hostile past towards our community and that, in the future, the list of names will no longer grow. I love you, rest in power my friends ❤️🏳️‍⚧️
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wonyscafe · 1 month
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composite/synastry chart obs
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⋆ ˚。 ୨୧
☆ I've noticed how having a partners mercury in the 12th house synastry can cause many struggles with communication... there are many things that are being hidden and it might come up in arguments which can lead to miscommunications
★ having a libra ascendant in a composite chart makes the two people very visually pleasing together- like people will go "oh that's such a pretty couple" for example, you match each others visuals very well
☆ moon in partners 6th house synastry literally SCREAMSSSS acts of service as love language, also the moon person just feels alot more balanced when they are in the presence of the house person, the house person can calm the moon person down just by being there
↳ ^^this also applies to having a virgo moon in the composite chart btw!!
★ when the moon or venus is in the first house in a composite, the two people are literally so affectionate in public- not necessarily pda but like also just being with each other alot, people can definitely tell you two are friends or lovers just by seeing the two of you together
☆ I've noticed that if your sun squares your friends sun, you two might have hated each others guts at first but now you cannot live without each other 😭 i've seen this happen so many times it even happened to me waaaaay too many times
★ I think it only makes sense that couples who have a second house stellium in composite are financially very stable- they're a rich couple or they look like a rich couple
☆ having chiron in partners 12th house in synastry is also something i'd like to talk about. the house person can help the chiron person grow, not only emotionally but also spiritually, the house person is a great source of healing energy for the chiron person. it's a very karmic connection between the two people, but mostly in a positive sense
★ a composite chart with a libra stellium indicates balance, in other words, harmony is very crucial ib this relationship. it might be something that both partners strongly desire
☆ when venus conjuncts moon in the composite chart, the couple will have lots of adoration towards each other. The (emotional) wellbeing of the partner is taken very much into consideration, and one partner will try to make the other partner feel better by giving them alot of love and vice versa 🤍
★ a first house stellium in the composite chart can indicate being the "it-couple", this couple attracts lots and lots of attention
☆ it is very important to watch out with 8th house overlays in synastry charts. if your partners planets (especially moon!!!!) are in your 8th house, you will have to be careful with obsession. being too obsessed with your partner can cause some problems
★ y'all 11th house overlays in synastry or an 11th house stellium in composite is such a slowburn indicatorrr 😭 i don't know why but i've seen this pattern soooo oftennnn
☆ mercury trine venus in synastry couples have such smooth conversations, they're very vocal and open about their wants and needs in a relationship. moon trine mercury is also very vocal about their emotions with each other. there's lots of empathy
★ also second house overlay couples can show lots of PDA for some reason... especially by kissing each other 😨
↳ a/n : I'M BACKKKK!!!!! <3 ngl life has been pretty wild recently 😅 thank you all for always being so patient with me ♡ I hope you guys enjoyed this post, I wrote down so much when I was travelling!!! synastry chart or composite chart observations are pretty difficult for me because it takes more time to find a couple and then analyse their charts (because I don't fw many couples </3) so this has taken some time and effort, so I thank you for being so patient 🫂 𖹭
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iwanthermidnightz · 1 year
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When I think back on the Speak Now album, I get a lump in my throat. I have a feeling it will always be that way, because this period of time was so vibrantly aglow with the last light of the setting sun of my childhood. I made this album, completely self-written, between the ages of 18 and 20. I've spoken about how I feel like those ages are the most emotionally turbulent ones in a persons life. Maybe when I say that, I'm really just talking about myself.
I think they might just be the most idealistic, hopeful years too. At this point in my life, I had released my second album, Fearless. It became the breakthrough moment I'd always dreamt of, one that catapulted my career to new realms of success. It had brought with it a tidal wave of pressures and pitfalls and growing pains. All the while, I was encountering the milestones and checkpoints of normal teenage growth. I had cataclysmic crushes and brushes with heartache. I moved out of my parents' house and set my bags down in a new apartment. I hung photos on my own walls and decorated the space where I would sob and cackle and shatter and dream. Sometimes I felt like a grown up, but a lot of the time I just wanted to time travel back to my childhood bed, where my mom would read stories to me until I fell asleep.
In my darker moments, I was tormented by the doubt that swirled loudly around my ascent and my merits as an artist. I was trying to create a follow up to the most awarded country album in history, while staring directly into the face of intense criticism. I had been widely and publicly slammed for my singing voice and was first encountering the infuriating question that is unfortunately still lobbed at me to this day: does she really write her songs? Spoiler alert: I really, really do.
In the years since, I've developed a thicker skin about public criticism and the cynicism with which some people approach the music I make. At that time, it leveled me. I had these voices in my head telling me that I had the perfect chance and I blew it. I hadn’t been good enough. I had given it all I had and been found wanting.
I wanted to get better, to challenge myself, and to build on my skills as a writer, an artist, and a performer. I didn't want to just be handed respect and acceptance in my field. I wanted to earn it. To try and confront these demons, I underwent extensive vocal training and made a decision that would completely define this album: I decided I would write it entirely on my own. I figured, they couldn't give all the credit to my cowriters if there weren't any. But that posed a new challenge: It really had to be good. If it wasn't, I would be proving my critics right.
I had no idea how much this pain would shape me. That this was the beginning of my series of creative choices made by reacting to setbacks with defiance. That my stubbornness in the face of doubters and dissenters would become my coping mechanism through my entire career from that point forward. This exact pattern of enacting my own form of rebellion when I feel broken is exactly why you're reading these very words, and I'm re-releasing this album now.
I went through my first worldwide scandal (the mic grab seen around the world). I experienced the weirdness of trying to get to know a boy while a swarm of paparazzi surrounds the car. Media contacting my publicist for an official statement on why two teenagers broke up. These are weird experiences to have at any age, but even more surreal when you're 19.
I had the nagging sense that in the most intense moments of my life, I had frozen. I had said nothing publicly. I still don't know if it was out of instinct, not wanting to seem impolite, or just overwhelming fear. But I made sure to say it all in these songs. I decided to call the album Speak Now. It was a play on the speak now or forever hold your peace' moment in weddings, but for me it symbolized a chance to respond to the chatter and commentary around my own life.
Some of these emotional revelations were surprising to people. Some expected anger and instead got compassion and empathy with 'Innocent'. Some expected a kiss-off breakup song but instead got a hand-on-heart apology, 'Back to December. It was an album that was the most precious to me because of its vast extremes. It was unfiltered and potent. In my mind, the saddest song I've ever written is 'Last Kiss'. My most scathing is 'Dear John' and my most wistfully romantic is 'Enchanted'.
I'll be forever proud of setting a goal and seeing it through. I'lI always feel shivers all over when I remember singing 'Long Live' to close the show every night on tour. The outstretched hands of those bright and beautiful faces of the fans. Their support was like an open palm that reached out and helped me up off the ground when others were, frankly, mean.
These days I make my choices for those people, the ones who thought I had been good enough all along. I try to speak my mind when I feel strongly, in the moment I feel it. I'm still idealistic and earnest about the music I make, but I'm less crushed when people mock me for it. I know now that one of the bravest things a person can do is create something with unblinking sincerity, to put it all on the line. I still sometimes wish I was a little kid again in a tiny bed, before I ever grew up.
I always looked at this album as my album, and the lump in my throat expands to a quivering voice as I say this. Thanks to you, dear reader, it finally will be.
I consider this music to be, along with your faith in me, the best thing that's ever been mine.
Yours,
Taylor
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Steve grows up thinking that love can be earned. That it has to be earned. That if he is quiet and polite, invisible most of the time and puts on his too-tight white button-downs without making a fuss, his mother will call him good and while she won't say it directly, Steve takes her approval for love.
His father is harder to please, for a while it's winning sport trophies and talking about taking out pretty girls. But as time goes on, Steve learns that disappointment is far quicker and far more willing given than love. Love can also be taken away like a toy from a naughty child.
Despite trying his best to keep earning his parents' love it keeps slipping away from him more and more often, like smoke through delicate fingers. Steve doesn't know what he is doing wrong, just assumes that he isn't good, that he doesn't deserve their love. It never occurs to him that they simply might be incapable of it, hollow, cold, harsh caves that echo where their hearts should beat.
So Steve tries to get it elsewhere. Tommy and Carol's love is easier to earn. Drive them places, pay for their food, get them booze and let them throw parties at his pool. Be mean and arrogant, laugh at jokes that make him feel sick to his stomach and do it all with a smile. Keep them happy and they'll keep loving him. He never quite figures out how he earned Nancy's love and it makes him antsy. Not knowing how to ensure that she'll keep loving him. He only realizes once they break up that the reason he never knew how to make her keep loving him was that she never loved him in the first place.
The kids are easy: be a human shield for them, beat monsters with a baseball bat, get tortured by Russians for them. If danger isn't around the corner it's driving them to the arcade, paying for their food, letting them hang out in the cold, desolate house that once they are gone echos just as much as the caves in his parents' chests. It's not that different from how he kept Tommy and Carol loving him. Only that it feels different, better. Steve doesn't have to force smiles, still recognizes the person in the mirror when he hangs out with the kids. He has fun too, would still do all these things if it didn't earn him the kids' love.
It's nice. Almost. If it wasn't for the constant fear that one day he'll say the wrong thing, bring them the wrong snack and all of that love will go poof.
Robin just like Nancy, Steve can't figure out. And it's fucking terrifying because he doesn't think he's ever loved a friend hell not just a friend, anyone, the way he has loved her. There are days he wants to crawl into her skin and make a home hoping it'll be enough to make her stay. Though a home never made his parents stay either. He knows the day he is going to lose her love, he will completely fall apart.
Eddie, Steve is slowly figuring out. Or at least he thinks he is. It's hard to tell with Eddie sometimes. On one hand, it's easy, Steve knows how to please partners in a relationship, knows how to be a good boyfriend. And Eddie clearly seems to enjoy the way Steve keeps trying to earn his love. On the other hand being a good boyfriend had already once not been enough.
It all comes down to it when Eddie and Steve end up in a stupid fight. Steve can't even remember what it started or who started it, all he knows that when Eddie says, "I need a smoke," and moves towards the door, panic closes around Steve's throat like a hand and squeezes tightly. If Eddie goes out of the door, if he leaves, he might not come back. It's been over six months since Steve last saw his parents.
"I'm sorry," he yells, tears already spilling over the corners of his eyes, running down his cheeks and pooling at his chin. He reaches for Eddie's wrist and Eddie instantly stops.
"I'm sorry, don't leave please! I'll make up for it, I promise. I'll be good. Perfect. Let me earn it again! Please!"
Eddie looks startled by Steve's outburst. He tucks his cigarette back into his pocket and pulls Steve into his arms.
"What? I'm not leaving! Steve," he says and cups Steve's wet face. Steve can't stop trembling. "What do you mean 'earn it again'?"
"Your love," Steve sniffs and buries his face in the crook of Eddie's neck, hoping, praying that it wasn't the wrong move. He knows he can be too clingy and he knows he can't afford to lose more of Eddie's love.
"My love? Baby," Eddie tightens his arms around Steve, "I'm not gonna stop loving you just because we're fighting. I love you even when I'm mad at you."
It draws a whole new wave of tears out of Steve and he does feel a bit like drowning. "And you don't have to earn my love, it's not fucking conditional," Eddie continues and presses a couple of soft kisses to Steve's hair.
"All my love is freely given. Not because you cook me dinner or let me pick movies or offer to blow me all the time. But because I love you, just you Steve. You don't even have to do anything. Just be yourself."
Eddie is crying now too, horrified that Steve went through his life in constant fear of love being taken away from him. Having to constantly bend and twist himself until he was broken just to earn crumbs of affection. It's a first step, one I love you doesn't undo years of trauma and fixes everything in an instant.
But Eddie vows he'll do everything he can to convince Steve that he is loved, so, so, so loved without having to grovel and beg for it. Without having to always be good and perfect.
And Robin and the kids make the same vow, heartbroken when they find out how scared Steve has been of losing them, how he thought they only kept him around in case of danger and because he had money.
It takes a while, but eventually, Steve starts to believe them. And if he ever has doubts or forgets everyone in his life is quick to remind him just how loved he is. Free of charge and indefinitely.
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littledigits · 10 months
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Its hard to describe the complex emotions I'm having today, its a mixture of bittersweet sadness, feirce proudness, and everything deeper that comes from having put yourself and your emotions into a show for so many years. I'mm do the thank you thing below - but words dont really do it justice.
THANK YOU to my core Team, you know who you all are, for giving me trust, room to grow, patience and guidance when I made mistakes. All of the support you have given me I will pay forward, because it was only with your trust in me that I could leave this show as strong and confidant as I am. Within that core team there is a very smol team of 4 Special people. Andy Coyle, Chantal Ling, Johnny and Kathleen Mckinnon. I will never forget our nights in the editing room in season 1, grabbing some drinks and pizza as we go through the roughcuts. There were ups and downs but I'm glad to have gone through the chaos with ya'll <3 THANK YOU. To every single person who has touched this project, from the very first pitch to the very last file conform. Our crew has been world wide, and while I dont know everyone, I see and appreciate the work and heart you have put into your time with us. I dont care if you were on the show for a day or a decade, you're a part of it, and I dont take that for granted. THANK YOU to the team at Atomic Cartoons for your work in season 1, and the team at Lighthouse Studios for the animation team who came on season 1 and 3. You all rose to an immense challenge. The Hilda animation team is more then just Mercury, and i'm proud to have worked with you. There are people on the show who look back on it fondly, but counter to that there are people who were not supported how they should have been. I want those people to know that I will take these experiences and push to be better always, your experiences are as valid. THANK YOU to the fans! I see your hype and art and theorys and stories. I hope you will enjoy the wild ride of this last season, but I also hope you all ignore 'canon' and just create to your hearts content. The world lives on, there are still secrets and folklore and mystery - they are now yours to build <3 I could write more, I could write NOVELS, but I think people who know me know how I feel so I will refrain from rambling. Take a breath, and try not to sob at everyone writing beautiful things about what the show meant to them. ( spoiler alert, im going to fail )
Thank you all for being a part of this adventure - Where shall we go next ?
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ssinboo · 10 months
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Say Yes to me
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summary: You've been in love with Jeon Wonwoo since forever, and due to your family relations, you had hopes you'd marry him. Your only problem? he's getting engagement to someone else.
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During his Engagement party, your childhood best friend and love of your life, Jeon Wonwoo, asks you to run away with him.
pairing: 1960s!AU - Childhood bestfriend! Wonwoo x F!Reader
word count: 10k (45~ minute read) – My longest ever!
warnings: unrequited crushes and overall foolishness, idiots in love, best friends to lovers to not lovers to lovers again, some angst?, Wonwoo is such a nerd, making out in dingy motels, unrealistic mileage for gasoline, seokmin being the sweetest
a/n: This will most certainly be my last fic of the year! So, Happy Holidays everyone! This year has been so troublesome, but I've grown so much and written a lot more, too! I'm so, so grateful for everyone I've met and everyone that's enjoyed my stuff! See you in 2024!
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Had you been questioned, there would never be a concrete answer to the question of just how long you had been in love with Jeon Wonwoo. 
You’d know him forever, and maybe you loved him all along.
Your families were business partners turned friends. And there had always been talk of marriage between the children. Of course, for convenience. The Jeon’s produced top-class racing and sports cars, while your family were in the chemical business, specialising in industry paints and finishes, it was only natural to unite the two families and profit. 
Although your wealth was vast, it was nothing compared to the Jeon’s, despite always having the chance to frequent the same environments, you often found you were on different levels altogether. 
Jeon Wonwoo was the eldest son, and he carried himself as such — with all the poise and arrogance of the heir to a global conglomerate. He liked golfing and late night swims. Always took his coffee black with no sugar, and barely had anything for breakfast, preferring a hearty lunch instead. 
His younger brother, Lee Seokmin, was the result of an affair with a secretary, though that did not mean he was loved any less, no. Seokmin lacked a single mean bone in his body, he had a pure heart and a contagious laugh.  
They were by all means what people liked to call Irish Twins, born less than a year apart. And the nature of that fact only made their differences more apparent. Complete opposites they were, and that extended to how they treated you, too. 
Every summer growing up, your family would travel to the country house and you and your sister would spend the better part of the months at the club. Oh, how you loved the country club with the fun summer activities the clear chlorinated water, having a meal under the pool umbrellas and getting funny tan lines. 
But most of all, you enjoyed Jeon Wonwoo.
His family frequented the same club and every summer, you’d be practically glued to Wonwoo, even if he didn’t dare to pay you any attention.
You were only three years apart, yet he acted as if you were an immature brat. Seokmin had always been happy to play with you and your sister, though. 
More often than not, Wonwoo would lounge by the pool with a book, never daring to go in. And you would cross your arms over tile by the sides and try your damnedest to strike a conversation with him. He would ignore your every word, or worse, poke fun at your latest obsession. 
“Wonwoo, at what time where you born?” You ask, spitting out any chlorine filled water off your mouth. 
He arches an eyebrow, looking up from his book.
“What?”
“What time were you born?” You repeat, unbothered by his acidic tone.
“Why would I know that?”
“Can’t you ask your mum?” 
He rolls his eyes, “Why do you wanna know?”
“So I can see your birth chart,” You shrug, twirling a wet strand of hair around your finger. 
“The fuck is a birth chart?”
“It’s like… It’s a way to see your personality… And I can check to see if we’re compatible.”
“That’s stupid…” He rolls his eyes, again, “You’re stupid.” 
You scoff, “You won’t play along— You’re such a bore!” You yell out and dive back in the pool, leaving behind a cackling Wonwoo. 
Those hapless summer days were spent lazing by the pool with your sister and Seokmin — without a care in the world, laughing about nothing. With the isolated water-balloon fight every now and then. 
You’d grown up before you could realise it, never truly leaving behind your childish crush on Wonwoo. Even if by the age hierarchy, you had no chance of marrying him — Your sister were to marry Wonwoo and you possibly married Seokmin. 
Though you held hope, it crumbled away with every passing minute. 
But that year, your sister had the greatest early birthday present: She’d found the man she was to marry and best of all, your daddy could never say no to his girls. 
With your sister marrying the love of her life, it meant that you would marry Wonwoo, right? It was only a matter of time and you would be sworn to each other before God, your friends, and family. And your first love would blossom. 
On your 21st birthday, your father took you to work with him for the day, though you most lazed around and answered his calls. You only expected to have lunch for your birthday and a party on the weekend.
At noon, he drove to the Jeon’s factory to deliver the new paint samples. 
The workers, most of whom had watched you, your sister and the Jeon kids grow up, greet you excitedly and some even wish you happy birthday. Your father goes straight to the floor to speak to the manager.
Unexpectedly, Mr. Jeon himself shows up.
Mr. Jeon was a handsome old man a captivating smile, he was incredibly passionate about his work and adored mechanics, but he loved his sons above all — And he had great expectations for his boys. 
He greets you with a warm hug and wishes you a happy birthday before discussing business with your father. To which you busy yourself with staring at the pieces waiting for a coat of paint.
“Hey, baby, why don’t you come with us to the patio?” Your father calls and you oblige, skipping toward the two men.
The patio is where they stored their models waiting to be shipped out to agencies or sometimes, for the higher profile clients, directly to the customer. You look at the new line to be launched next winter: sleek and modern with leather seats and wooden accents on the interior. You could never criticise the Jeon’s for their taste, they knew their stuff. 
“Come here, baby,” Your father waves his hands, “What do you think of this car?” 
You study the convertible in a bright red with a cream leather interior; a classic. 
“It’s gorgeous, daddy, when are they launching it?”
“It should be out next year, but what do you think of the colour?”
“I like it,” You nod enthusiastically.
“That’s great baby, why don’t you read up on this model?” He hands you a tiny card, common in the factory, that has the model and batch number, as well as the signature from the supervisor. But just underneath the model, you see the colour name: your name.
As you look at your father, completely astonished, he just lets out a warm laugh and opens his arms for a hug.
“You named a shade after me?!” You glue yourself to him, still in shock. 
“Happy birthday, princess.” 
“Thank you, daddy, you’re the best!” 
“That’s your dad’s present, how about you open mine, now?” Mr. Jeon interjects, waving a tiny jewelry box in the air. 
You fix your hair and take it from his hand, expecting maybe a ring, or earrings. 
But you find brand new car keys.
Mouth agape, you look at him while your father can only laugh at your surprised expression.
“Why don’t you give it a spin?” Mr. Jeon encourages, rushing you toward the convertible. 
And though your father is beside himself with worry for you driving during rush hour, he settles for sitting in the passenger’s seat and doing some good old backseat driving, even though you barely make it past 30.
You drive around the block and return to the factory before your father has an anxiety attack over your driving. 
“Thank you so much, Mr. Jeon! When did you even do this?! I had no idea!”
“Wonwoo oversaw the whole thing, he’s the one you should thank,” He laughs it off, but your heart can only skip a beat at the mention of your beloved’s name. Especially thinking he was the one to take care of such a great gift.
Wonwoo loved mechanics as much as his dad, sometimes even more. He even went to a good college for it, coming back even smarter than before — and much sassier, too. He never stopped doing manual work in the factory, guaranteeing every car made was up to the Jeon standard.
And you were very biased toward his mechanic abilities, especially when he would furrow his brow, glasses perched on the very tip of his nose; he would wipe off sweat off his forehead with his grease covered arm. 
You remember to this day the last time your father came to discuss swatches and you stopped by the shop. Watching Wonwoo work on an older model with a leaky oil tank. 
He did everything himself, changed the tank perched under the car, soldering a brand new one. He also did a once over on anything else that could become a problem in the future, any filters needing change, checking wires and gears, making sure the oil was fresh. The problem came with the lights. He had such a hard time wiggling his thick arms through the machinery to reach the right spot, and you watched very intently how his triceps flexed, deep green veins bulging under his skin.
Wonwoo had gotten so frustrated he’d shed off the top part of his coveralls, sporting a white undershirt so tight you could basically tell the shape of his sweat-clad torso. Oh, how you’d hoped he never got that bulb in place.
“Come’ere,” Wonwoo calls out without further ado. 
“Why?”
“Need your help,” He mumbles under a sigh.
You rise from the barrel you were sitting on and approach the open hood. “With what?”
“Getting this fuckin’ bulb in place,” He hands you the tiny light bulb.
“Where do I need to put it?”
“See— in between this part, need to shove you hand until you reach back here in the light, then you just screw it in.”
“What if I get stuck?” 
“You won’t, you’re so petite,” He smirks.
You scoff, “Shut up.”
Leaning over the hood, you place your left hand on the chassis to steady yourself and shove your right hand in between gears and machinery, trying to find the spot he mentioned.
“I can’t find it,” You complain.
“Keep trying.”
“I am!”
“Here, deeper—“ He reaches for you, one hand on your waist and another on your arm, forcing you toward the place.
You’re way too focused on finding the damn spot for the light, that you barely notice the proximity at all. 
“Can’t find it!”
“Right, right— My right.”
“It’s the same freakin’ right, you idiot,” You hiss.
He laughs, “Fine, our right,” you groan at his stupid joke, “It should be there, try to bring it closer to you.” 
“Found it!” You squeal with a smile, screwing the bulb in its place. 
“Atta girl,” Wonwoo smiles. 
“There!” With a relieved sigh, you finally free your grease-clad hand from the machinery, slightly cringing at the black covering your fingernails — It’d be such a bother to clean it up. 
When you finally lean back, you stumble onto Wonwoo’s firm chest. Lucky for you, he catches you, steady hold at your waist. You’re finally aware of his proximity, to which he only smiles. 
Looking down at where his warm, tauntingly large hands meet your waist, you’re suddenly filled with nothing but rage. ‘
“You got grease all over my dress!” You whine, looking at the perfectly stamped print of his hand over your brand new summer dress. 
He only laughs, “Looks better this way, trust me.”
“Ugh!” You groan, stomping toward the washing area where they kept clean rugs. 
He closes the hood with a loud thump that echoes through the shop and slides into the driver’s seat. The car comes alive with a loud hum and ta-da! The headlight works. 
You are a little proud of your work, yes. But it’s not like you’ll show it.
“Do you not anything clean in here?!” You complain, eyeing the pile of grease-covered rags thrown in a corner. That had to be a fire hazard.
“What?” Wonwoo shouts over the running engine.
You huff and stomp your way back to the car, throwing open the driver’s door. “I have a formal dinner to go to,” You state, leaning over the door.
“Okay, then go.” 
Rolling your eyes, you hold back any possible insults, “Like this?” You gesture toward your otherwise perfectly fine dress. 
He holds back a little mischievous smile, “I have some clean clothes in the office.”
Wide eyes, mouth hanging agape, you stare at him dumbfound, “I hope that’s a joke, Jeon Wonwoo.” 
He laughs, genuinely. That sweet, deep, dorky laugh of his that reverberates through his chest and plunges straight into your heart. 
“Come on, I’ll drive you home.”
As much as he did tease you, Wonwoo never made short on his promises. 
“Is he around?” You ask Mr. Jeon, trying your best to suppress any expectations.
“Oh, he had some business… But he wished you a happy birthday.”
Your smile falters before your catch it, forcing the corners of your lips into a beautiful, rehearsed smile. “Let him know I’m grateful. For the wishes and for the amazing present.”
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It would soon be Wonwoo’s birthday and you had been preparing for what felt like ages. You got him a really nice set of electric work tools since he complained often about how the shop’s tools were always malfunctioning. But you did feel somewhat bad about only getting him a gift relating to work on what should be a day about him. 
So you caved in and got him a gorgeous wrist watch with classy black leather straps; on the underside you had his name inscribed with a heart. — You actually hadn’t planned for the heart, but the jeweller got confused in between so many orders and it was too close to the date to have it re-done. You hoped you could play it off in a cool manner, maybe he would laugh at your story.
The party would be held the eve of his actual birthday, and you arrived at the venue with hours to spare. Your father and sister are by the entrance, speaking to Mr. Jeon, you greet them.
“Hi, Mr. Jeon! Where should I put the gifts?”
“Oh—“ Surprised, he looks at your father, “You’ve brought gifts—“ He seems… surprised? As if it were so weird to bring presents to a birthday party. “Uh— I’m not sure, let me check with my wife where you could place those.”
You father nervously sips on his champagne, avoiding your sister’s burning looks.
“You haven’t told her,” Your sister turns to your father, “Why didn’t you tell her?”
“Tell me what?” You ask.
“Honey… This isn’t Wonwoo’s birthday party…” Your father speaks very slowly, gauging for your reaction at his every word.
Eyebrows raised, you question, “What do you mean?”
“It’s an engagement party, he’s getting engaged to Suzy,” Your sister rips the band-aid off.
And you feel the air being sucked out of your lungs at once, an agonising knot pulls at your throat and your nose stings with the threat of tears. The shopping bags fall from your hands and you fight off the urge to bawl your eyes out. 
Before you actually do cry your eyes out, you rush outside.
“Baby—“ Your father calls but you just storm off, not wanting to be near anyone. 
Engaged? Engaged!
Engaged…
Wonwoo was getting fucking engaged. 
With a bitch named Suzy who had the prettiest hair you’d ever seen and knew how to talk to investors and could speak a thousand languages. And worst of all, she was the kindest, sweetest girl ever. You couldn’t even hate her!
You weren’t even allowed that! As much as you weren’t allowed a simple heads up. How hard was it to tell you beforehand “Hey, the guy you’ve loved your entirely life is getting married to some girl and you just brought lemon pies to his engagement party, thought you’d want to know.”
Maybe you should’ve taken the pies with you, at least you’d have some comfort. 
You know what, what the fuck. Why didn’t Wonwoo tell you anything?! It had been barely a couple of days since you saw each other, why couldn’t he tell you? Were you not even worthy of that? 
Like having known each other your entire lives doesn’t make you worthy of such ”wonderful” news? How hard is it to tell someone in passing that you’re getting engaged! And now, you’re supposed to smile all night and pretend like your guts aren’t festering in rage and melancholy and your blood doesn’t run cold at the mere thought of Wonwoo walking down the aisle.
Giving it a second thought, maybe it wasn’t set in stone yet. 
It’s the modern times and even back in your parents’ days, engagements were broken off all the time! He might not marry Suzy. You might have a chance. 
Maybe you could ask— no, you could plead with your father to tell Mr. Jeon to think it all over. Wonwoo is still young, it’s not time to settle down just yet. He wanted to study abroad, he talked about the automobile industry in Europe with such amaze, and if that took a little longer, maybe Suzy would get tired of waiting?
Who were you fooling? You should’ve seen it coming.
Of course, he wouldn’t have married you, what were you thinking?!
He’s the Jeon’s precious firstborn and you’re… someone who can’t even tell apart the sizing in wrenches —  To top it all off, Suzy was notably great with mechanics. 
You really wish you had those pies with you, it would make your salty tears a little sweeter.
By the time you’re done sobbing in your car, you look a hot mess with runny make-up and swollen eyes. With a sigh, you pull out your purse and muster up any cosmetics that can save you for tonight. 
You could cry all you wanted at home, but right now, you needed to look pretty and have your pictures taken.
By the time you return, the party is to start and guests are gathering at the front, your sister immediately rushes to your side.
“Are you okay?” she whispers, soft hands reaching for yours. 
Forcing out a smile, “Of course! Who do you think I am?”
By the look on her face, you know she doesn’t trust your words not one bit, but will not pry at your emotions any further. At least not for tonight, you’re sure tomorrow she will grill you about this. But for now, you put on a bright smile and greet all the guests.
From the Jeon’s, Seokmin is the third to arrive, missing only by the birthday boy himself. But he immediately greets his parents and comes to greet your family.
“Hey!” You smile, putting aside your glass of champagne so you can hug him properly.
“How you doin’?” He asks, gorgeous smile on display. 
“I’m— Well—“
“They’ve told you then—“ 
You press your lipstick coloured lips into a thin line, “Yeah,” You nod.
“Shit.”
“Yeah,” You shrug, “I’m happy, Suzy is… a—“ Nice words. Nice words. “—wonderful girl.”
Seokmin offers you a sweet smile. “Let’s hope she can handle his tantrums,” he nudges at your arm.
“Oh, please!” You laugh.
Wonwoo was known for sometimes having a bit of a short temper, not often, by any means and maybe that’s what made them so memorable. Like the one time he couldn’t finish a puzzle during game night, so he gathered all the pieces and set the ablaze in the backyard.
“Or—“ A waiter passes by with a tray full of champagne and he so kindly grabs two glasses, offering you one. “Listen to this— He gets to the church, covered in grease from head to toe.” 
You laugh at the thought. Gods, how many times has Wonwoo decided to work on an engine while wearing his most expensive outfit? His mother nearly had a fit every time he would show up dishevelled and smelling like motor oil pretending like nothing’s wrong. 
“Please,” You sip at your drink, “I bet he’s gonna be all greased up tonight.”
Seokmin laughs wholeheartedly. He was the sort of guy to never hold back a fit of giggles no matter how inappropriate it may be, and it was certainly refreshing to know someone genuinely found your company enjoyable.
“For sure, I think her parents will freak out.” 
You nod. 
Tapping at your glass, you hesitate the following words, “Guess we’ll be the ones getting married for the family, then…”
You didn’t hate Seokmin, far from it. You loved him to bits— Not like Wonwoo, of course, you believed you would never love a man like you loved Wonwoo, ever again. 
He was funny, and such a gentleman. Not to mention, handsome, too. If you weren’t hopelessly in love with his brother, he would’ve been the perfect husband of your dreams. But he did deserve better than a wife who could never give him what he deserves. 
“Sorry about that,” Seokmin comforts you and that only makes your nose sting with the threat of more tears.
“Stooop!” You whine in a shaky voice and he’s overcome with worry.
“Hey— What’s wrong—?”
“Don’t be so sweet— I’m emotional tonight—“ You laugh at your emotional state, despite the teary-eyes.
“Are you a crybaby tonight?”
You nod, fanning your eyes in the hope of drying your tears before they can wash away your makeup.
Seokmin smiles, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and you lean against his chest, fighting the urge to cry.
It’s only when you’re certain you won’t bawl your eyes out, that you respond. “It’s not that I hate you, you know I love you, but… You deserve someone that will love you like a husband.” 
He nods, “I know— But it might not be so bad, we’re friends! We’ll have sleepovers every day, and we’ll have Italian every night, we’ll watch those silly movies you like…” Seokmin lists off all the things you would do in your very platonic marriage and it doesn’t sound so bad. 
He knew exactly how you felt, he loved you, of course he did, you were so precious in his eyes, but not like a lover. 
You pull your face away from his chest to look up at him, “Are you gonna let me choose your clothes?” 
Seokmin sighs. You hated his questionable fashion since forever and in only very rare occasions did he accept your input, any other time and he assaulted your spirit with clashing patterns and silly shoes.
“Fine—!” 
You smile brightly, properly comforted. 
Before you can tease him any further, you spot Wonwoo entering the venue. Although he is immediately swarmed with congratulatory words, his shy nature makes it so his only response is always an awkward smile. 
He immediately spots you among the crowd.
You breathe in. In that moment, despite knowing he was sworn to another, that did not stop your heart from fluttering at the sight of him, his broad shoulders and the crooked tie he clearly put on a rush.
“Congrats, bro!” Seokmin is the first one to greet him, not letting go of your shoulder but instead pulling Wonwoo into a semi-hug. 
“Seokmin…” Wonwoo eyes his brother and then you, and then his brother again.
“Congrats, Nonu,” You smile, letting go of Seokmin’s comfort to reach for a hug. 
Wonwoo smiles, letting you cling onto his neck, your citric perfume seeping into his clothes and body. 
Oh, how his warmth could never compare to another. How you craved his affection like no other. 
“Thanks— Uh, did you bring me anything?” He asks in a teasing tone.
“Ey— Nonu!” Seokmin scolds his brother. 
“How did you know I brought you something?” You giggle, pulling away from the hug. 
Wonwoo shrugs. 
You reach for his crooked tie, straightening it to the best of your abilities. “I brought it earlier, but I think your mum took it to the back room,” You explain, focused on the tie.
He, however is focused on your concentrated face, parted red lips and furrowed brows. The proximity that lets him almost feel your chest pressed against his, as if extending the hug. 
“However, you, mister, have to greet your guests!” You scold, setting his tie in place.
Seokmin joins in, once again throwing his arm around your shoulder. “That’s right, mum already gave me an earful about how late you were— And I got here on time!” 
“Yeah— Yeah— You’re right,” Wonwoo nods.
“Liquid courage?” You offer your half-drunk glass of champagne and he downs it in one go.
You and Seokmin goof around a little more and gossip about certain guests behind their backs. Dinner is served and you all sit down to eat, Seokmin insists you sit beside him, which just so happens to also be next to Wonwoo. And you thank him for indulging you one last time.
Wonwoo is mostly quiet, but you were used to him not being rather fond of public parties, especially when all of the attention is on him. On his other side, sits Suzy, the blushing bride-to-be. She tries to make conversation with Wonwoo, though most of it falls flat, he only ever gives her monosyllabic answers and rarely contributes to discussions. 
That is until Mr. and Mrs. Jeon stand up, tapping forks to their glasses to call for everyone’s attention. The room quiets down instantly. 
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for attending our little gathering tonight,” Mr Jeon greets the guests. “We have some wonderful news we would like to share with you all.” 
“My beautiful son, how proud I am of you,” He adds, “Every day I am  amazed at your intellect. Often, I question just where did you get those smarts!”
Everyone laughs.
“You have grown into a fine man, and I can’t take credit for any of it. You are the most mature, talented, and intelligent boy and you did it all by yourself— ”
You can watch how Wonwoo’s eyes gloss over with tears. 
“I’m growing old, you know. And every father wants the guarantee that his children will be taken care of… That’s why I’m so relieved and happy to announce that my worries will soon be gone—“ He laughs but his son’s smile falters, “I’d like to announce the engagement of my son, Wonwoo, to this beautiful young lady named Suzanne. Welcome to the family, Suzy.” 
He raises his glass and soon, the room fills with uproar. Everyone claps and you join in, smiling toward Mr. Jeon and Suzy. She stands up, thanking everyone and raising her own glass.
But Wonwoo doesn’t move. 
“Nonu?” You whisper. 
In his ears all that can be heard is muffled screams of joy and the incessant acute ringing. He closes his fists so tight that his blunt nails almost break through skin, he doesn’t look at you, but it’s so clear something is wrong.
You and Seokmin exchange glances. 
Before you can call for him again, he stands up at once, the chair falling behind him with a loud bang that silences the room in an instant. In large and rushed strides, Wonwoo leaves for the patio. 
You stand up and follow him. 
“Wonwoo!” You call out, almost tripping over your party heels. 
He stands in the yard, hand gripping at his gelled hair while the other fights with his tie, pulling at the suffocating fabric until it slides down.
The yard is decorated with a gorgeous fountain, sound of running water somewhat soothing in this moment.
“Nonu, what’s wrong?” You whisper, a hand reaching for his heaving shoulder.
“What wrong?!” He yells back, shoving your hand away, “Did you not fuckin’ hear ‘em?!” 
You step back and his gaze somewhat softens, realising he just pushed you.
“You didn’t know…” You whisper to yourself, epiphany hitting you like a punch to the gut. How could Mr. Jeon do this?! Throw this on him without any previous warning?!
“You— You knew?” His voice is shaky, laced with the sharp sting of betrayal.
“I found it out myself tonight when I got here— I— I thought you knew! I thought you agreed to it!” You argue. 
“How— How can you think I would agree to marry someone—“ His words trail off in the night breeze, never to be finished. 
“Then— What will you do?”
“I don’t know!” 
You bite at your nails, finding a concrete surface to sit on and ponder. 
“I must leave—“ He speaks out, “Run away with me—“
“What?!” you stand up.
“Let’s leave, drive somewhere— Wherever! I can’t stay a moment longer in this place.” 
Oh, what a dilemma it was.
Abandon an engagement party with the groom-to-be, leaving behind furious parents and confused guests. And part of you knew that, despite your family’s closeness and no matter how much your father claimed you were all very close like family, driving off in the middle of the night with a committed man was a blow to any respectable, single, young ladies.
What a dilemma it could’ve been if you weren’t so enamoured with this man you would beck at any given call of his.
“I’ll get my bag and tell your parents you want to stay out here for a couple of minutes,” You announce and he nods.
As you walk back into the venue, all eyes are on you.
“He’s got the wedding jitters, everyone, not to worry. Wonwoo will return after he’s had a bit of fresh air,” You announce with a smile and all guests return to their previous activities.
But Mr. Jeon immediately corners you.
“What is he thinking?!” He half-yells, half-whispers.
“He’s just nervous, it’s a big bit of news…” You lie through your teeth, “I think a little heads up would’ve helped, you know he doesn’t do well with surprises.”
The man sighs, “He wouldn’t ever agree to it. I’ve offered him countless girls to marry and he never accepts any of them.“ Mr. Jeon looks at you and then sighs. “Do me a favour, convince him to come back, will you?”
“Yes, sir,” You nod and head off into the back rooms.
Unbeknown to you, Seokmin is on your trail and he waits until you are in the back lounge, gathering your bags and jacket to close the door and corner you.
“What the hell happened?”
You jump at the sudden intrusion, “You scared me!” You whisper.
“Sorry,” He whispers back.
“He didn’t know!”
“What?!” He says in a normal tone, soon realising just how loud that was. 
“What I said, I think your dad set up a trap… He knows Wonwoo won’t go against his word.”
“Shit. What are we gonna do?”
“He wants to run away,” You announce.
Seokmin looks at you, and then at the purse hanging from your should and the jacket in your hands. 
“And you’re coming with him?”
“I can’t leave him alone, not tonight.”
“And where are you going?”
“I don’t know,” 
“And when are you coming back?”
“I don’t know.”
“You are coming back, right?”
“I have no idea, Seokmin,” You realise, but the prospect doesn’t scare you as badly.
He scratches at his head. “Leave through the kitchen, I’ll hold off my dad. Make sure to give me a call once you guys are… I don’t know— Just give a call, will you?” 
You nod, pulling him into a hug.
Doing as he instructed, you pass through the kitchen staff and rush through the backdoor, unseen by the guests. Wonwoo is sitting on a concrete bench, his head between his hands.
“Ready?” You call out.
Wonwoo looks up, nodding before he rises to his height. You offer him a comforting smile and reach for his hand. 
Once you get hold of his hand, you bolt across the yard toward the parking lot. He almost stumbles over his lanky legs, but catches up rather fast. You throw your stuff on the backseat and enter your car, Wonwoo decides to jump over the door. 
You laugh at his antics with a shake of your head. 
Once your heels are discarded, you start the engine and drive off, leaving behind that dreaded engagement party. Wonwoo busies himself with shedding his formal wear, throwing his tie on the floor and removing his blazer. 
In any other occasion, this could’ve been such a lovely late-night drive, just the two of you in your beloved car, night breeze caressing your faces with her ice-cold kisses, cruising through deserted roads, barely a soul in sight except for the night owls.
And you might allow yourself to enjoy this moment.
The silence isn’t a bother, no, Wonwoo was always a man of comfortable silences to you, but this once, you’re worried about goes on in that busy mind of his.
“You alright?” You ask, looking away from the road to steal a glance or two at him.
“Yeah,” He replies.
“Truly?”
“No,” He scoffs at his own lie. “But I’ll be.”
You nod. 
You drive out of town and on the interstate roads for ages until Wonwoo finally speaks up. You’re completely engulfed in darkness except for your headlights.
“We should stop soon and have a rest.”
“Okay,” You nod, “Any preferences?”
“Anywhere.” 
And so you tell him to keep his eyes peeled open when a sign on the road says there should be a motel in the next couple KM. It doesn’t take too long before you’re pulling into the parking lot of a roadside motel, much of a far-cry from your expensive hotels and luxury living. 
You check in at the front desk with an old man who seems very unhappy with his life, he short of throws the keys your way. 
The room is… surprisingly nice, given the circumstances of the ambience. Only problem is the, although quite large, singular bed. You exchange glances.
“Shit,” Wonwoo curses, “I’m gonna 
“You wanna get hit?” You joke, “He’s minutes away from killing us over this room. We can just share the bed.”
He looks at you with wide eyes. “I’ll sleep in the tub.”
Oh, he certainly seems to hate the idea of sharing a bed with you, huh.
“Nonu, please, it’s late and we’re both tired. It will be just like when we were kids,” You explain, setting aside your stuff.
Wonwoo nods, sitting on the strangely comfortable bed.
“You think they have robes?” You ask, looking around.
“Wouldn’t bet on it.” 
“Oh, I’d kill to get out of this dress,” You whine, running to the bathroom to check for anything you could wear instead of your dress. 
He just bites at his lips, watching you pace from side to side in that tiny bedroom. 
That’s when you remember your forgotten shopping bags sitting in the trunk! Your compulsive shopping habits just saved you from a very uncomfortable night’s sleep, how convenient!
“I think I have some clothes in my car,” You announce, grabbing the keys and heading toward the door.
“Wait, you’re going by yourself? let me go with you.”
“I don’t wanna lock the door, though,” You whine.
He sighs, “Stay here, I’ll go.” 
You jump, “Thank you, Nonu!”
While Wonwoo rummages through your trunk and pulls out the surprising large amount of shopping bags, you shed off your clothes and head toward the bathroom, dying to get some hot water on your body, put on your new PJs and doze off. 
When he returns however, he is greeted by a sight any other man would die to see. You’ve left a trail of clothes from the bed toward the bathroom door. Starting on your pretty dress, splayed out over tiled-floor, and then your tights and then your underwear, matching, too— 
He clears his throat. “I’m back!” 
But you probably don’t hear him through the running shower, so he just sets down the bags and avoid the sight of your clothes. He decides to turn on the tiny TV and browse through any late night re-runs. You take only a couple of minutes in your shower.
“Nonu?” You ask from the bathroom.
“Yeah?” He turns down the TV.
“Did you find the clothes?”
“Yeah.”
“Can you bring me something to wear?” Wonwoo gulps. 
“Uh— Which one?”
“There should be a light blue bag and a pink one.” 
“Okay—“ He stands up and searches for the aforementioned colours. 
Wonwoo heads to the bathroom door and leans against the wall, facing away from the door. He knocks once. You open the door and shove your arm through, reaching for the bags.
“Thank youu!” 
He returns to the boring TV. Though all he could think about was the sight of your wet supple skin, knowing you were bare with only a thin sheet of plywood separating you. 
You leave the bathroom smelling of cheap soap and fresh into your brand new nightgown. It is tentatively short with an almost see-through round of lace over the hems. In your defence, you weren’t planning on showing this nightgown to anyone anytime soon. 
Sitting on the bed, you look around the room, not noticing how Wonwoo’s eyes don’t really meet yours or how red his ears seem to burn.
“Aren’t you gonna shower?” You ask.
“Feels a bit redundant to shower and get back into my dirty clothes.” 
“I think I might have something for you, if you don’t want to sleep in a suit,” You pry.
Wonwoo raises an eyebrow, “I’m listening.”
“But you can’t judge! I bought this for my dad because you know he deals very poorly with the heat— And he never buys himself anything!” You’re explaining yourself in advance because you remember very well what you bought.
Silky boxer shorts and a tank top, which your father loved to sleep in on stuffy summer nights but you doubted would be Wonwoo’s first choice of wear, ever.
He haggles with his own mind; give into the silky boxer shorts or sleep in the most uncomfortable outfit ever. With a tired sigh, Wonwoo accepts his fate and grabs the bag. 
You smile as he stomps toward the bathroom with a defeated frown.
By the time he returns, you’ve cleaned up your trail of clothes and made yourself very comfortable in the bed. You turn your head to face him.
God, he could make a potato sack look good. 
“How’s the fit?” You pull your eyes away before you look for too long. 
Wonwoo shrugs, “I’ve had worse.”
You laugh.
He coyly joins you in bed, keeping a large gap between your bodies, settling on top of the covers while you’re under their warmth. 
“Ain’t you cold?” You ask, fidgeting with the TV remote. 
Wonwoo shakes his head, leaning back into the headboard. With a pout, you cross the figurative bridge between the two of you and reach for him. He doesn’t shy away from your touch but it visibly confused.
“What’s wrong?” He asks, hands hovering in the air, far away from your exposed back.
“I’m sorry your birthday party sucked,” You murmur against his chest, Wonwoo smiles softly, letting his hands rest on you.
“It didn’t suck in its entirety,” he says, palms slightly tapping at your back, “it was fun running away with you.”
You giggle at his comment, heart fluttering at its meaning, “What are we going to do? About the engagement, I mean…”
“We?” He raises an eyebrow.
You pull away from him.
“Well— You dragged me into this!” You slap at his chest and he lets out a boisterous laugh that almost manages to pull the corners of your from into a smile.
“I know, I’m taking the piss out of you,” He extends his arms, pulling you back to your previous position, resuming the soft caresses he leaves on your arms. “I don’t know— This is the first time I’ve ever gone against my father.”
You sigh. “Don’t you wanna marry Suzy?”
There’s a pause and oh, you’re begging, wishing to hear the words you want most.
“Fuck no!” Wonwoo exclaims and you fail to hide your excitement.
“She is pretty,” You throw the bait, to pry at his true feelings.
“So is your sister, should I just marry any pretty girl?”
You raise from your position, eyebrows furrowed into a deep frown. Wonwoo looks at you, completely clueless to his words and its consequences.
“What the hell?!” 
“What?” 
Kicking off the covers in a flurry, you kneel on the bed, staring at him dead in the eyes.  “You have the hots for my sister!”
It’s Wonwoo’s turn to get angry, “What?! No— You’re twisting my words—“
“I’m twisting your words?! You just said you think my sister is pretty!” 
“Because she is!”
You jaw drops, you can’t believe he is doubling down. “Wow,” you shake your head. 
“What’s wrong with saying that?”
You shrug, turning away from him and crossing your arms. “I don’t know, why don’t you just go an marry my sister, then.”
Only then, does this thick-headed man you love so much realise he has been complimenting other girls without so much as telling you a single nice word — the bare minimum. He sighs and offers you a soft smile, shifting in the bed until he is near you again.
“I don’t want to marry your sister. I think she is pretty, but she’s not the prettiest sister, you are.” He waits for your reaction.
Hook, line and sinker. 
You turn around immediately, a hint of smile playing in your pretty lips. 
That’s enough for him to break into a wide smile, opening his arms to welcome you back into his warmth. You crash into his chest, wrapping yourself around his torso. 
He groans, falling back into the mattress but not letting go of you.
Minutes pass before you speak again. “It’s past midnight…” You whisper.
“It’s well past midnight… Why?”
You shift upwards until your faces are only inches apart, breath tickling his lips, your beautiful eyes gleaming under dim motel lighting. “Happy birthday,” You whisper between smiles, “Make a wish.” 
Wonwoo breathes in, eyes scanning your face, “There’s one thing I want…” 
“What is it?” 
If he said it out loud, he might’ve lost all courage to do so. 
So he just does it, Wonwoo leans forward until his lips meet yours in a chaste kiss. 
It probably lasted a couple of seconds, but those seconds felt like a lifetime when you were finally kissing the man you’ve loved for god knows how long. There’s a spark of electricity that burns bright from the moment your lips touch and travels through your body, blood boiling in excitement, shyness, and pure love. 
When the kiss ends, Wonwoo studies your face, watching for any sign of discomfort. Which is even more worrying when you’re standing there, froze solid with an empty stare.
But thankfully, before he can say anything, you throw caution into the wind. 
You pull him into a kiss. Throwing every sense of morale and shame you had out the damn window. He was a man sworn to another, for Pete's sake! But here you here, crashing your lips into his perfect, soft ones. 
Wonwoo lets out a quiet groan, almost inaudible, but you hear it, oh yes, you do. And it runs straight through your chest and down to your core. 
Although the sensible, rational part of your brain tells you to quit kissing him at once and just apologise, the other 99% of your brain, who’s been in love with him since forever, wants nothing of the sort. And you might have listened to the not-so-rational part of you, because you just deepened the kiss, shifting your weight until you’re partially on top of him.
Your lips move against him, shyly exploring this kiss, engraving every moment into your memory. 
Yet he reciprocates. His warm hands finds your waist, holding you flush against his torso, heartbeats thumping completely in-sync. You wrap your arms around his neck and he takes the chance to pull you deeper into those dangerous lips of his. His tongue finds its way into your mouth, licking and twirling against yours, hot and eager. 
He dips his head, one hand reaches to tangle into your hair and manoeuvre you around, allowing himself complete freedom to explore every bit of your mouth. 
Wonwoo kisses like no other. Not that you had too much of a repertoire to compare him to. 
But he consumes your lips with an unbound hunger, nothing similar to the calm and collected Wonwoo you knew, no. He’s hungry, messy, and very clumsy, clashing teeth one too many times, letting saliva drip down your chins and struggling to move with you on top of him.
When you part the kiss, you lay there breathless, gazing into his ridiculously beautiful beady eyes and long eyelashes, his handsome sharp nose and the most kissable lips you’ll ever see.
 It was breathtaking, mind-blowing and nothing like you’ve ever felt before. Your heart beats so fast you feel as if you might pass out at any moment but you’d die before you give up experiencing that again.
“What was that?” He whispers and his breath tickle your kiss-swollen lips. 
“Your birthday gift,” You bite at your lower lip. “Did you like it?”
Wonwoo smiles, breathless and half-lidded and your heart damn near bursts. “I did. Did you?”
You nod.
He nods. “Wanna do it again?”
You nod and he gives you that stupidly handsome smile of his.
And once again, you’re attached at the lips. This once, nothing like before, which you though impossible. It’s so much more desperate and it burns, it boils your blood in absolute desire. It leaves you light-headed, it wipes away your cognitive thoughts and leaves behind a foggy cloud of barely strung-together words that only translate into wanting more. More of him. 
You sigh into the kiss and he drinks it all up, he consumes everything you give him with erratic hands and eager tongue. 
Wonwoo leaves your lips and you whine with a breathless sigh of his name, almost chipping at any resolve he had left. But he nips at your neck nonetheless, warm, wet tongue trailing along your skin, making you twitch in his arms with the most delectable little ‘yips’ of surprise. 
He bites, feral and determined; determined to make his claim, to leave behind his mark on your body, to indulge in carnal pleasure without a prospect of tomorrow, letting everything else be a construct beyond these motel walls, away from where you laid. Away from this reality where he had you in his hands and you moaned his name with a soft smile.
Practically tearing your nightgown, he pulls the silky fabric just enough until your tits spill out of its confine. Wonwoo sighs at the sight, fingers trailing the contour of your boobs, raising goosebumps along sensitive skin. His eyes are burning in adoration, the most depraved glaze of hunger hidden behind sheer excitement. 
He dives in, hands kneading at the flesh, squishing soft skin. 
Slender fingers caress your aereolas, running fingernails along your nipples in curiosity, watching you squirm and bite at your lips as your nipples begin to perk up. 
And when you thought he was done, Wonwoo attaches his mouth to your nipple, sloppily running his tongue around it before he sucks. He makes sure to let his teeth graze, just to watch you jump.
All while his other hand makes work of your unattended boob, your attention is so thinly divided between his teasing fingers and his hot tongue and the sweetest, most satisfied groans that erupt from his throat. 
Your face burns and you bite at the back of your hand, shoving down every stubborn moan that tries to make it past; but he won’t have that, no. Wonwoo reaches for your arms, pinning them above your head without so much as pulling away from your tits. 
Mindlessly, you’ve been rocking back and forth against him, chasing a gut feeling you’re unsure of but desire more than anything ever. And without realising, you’ve been teasing him just as much as he has you, which is clear by the volume contained by his shorts. 
He wishes he could ravish your breasts all night, but any more of your squirming and he will come undone without so much as a touch from you. 
Wonwoo pulls away, hands once against finding your waist as he pulls you back to his chest.
“You know what comes next, don’t you?” He whispers against your lips, half-lidded, lust-filled eyes gazing so deep into your own. 
“I— I’ve never done it before,” You confess.
And something stirs within him, to know he is your first, the first and only man to every touch you this way, to trace his lips over your gorgeous body, to settle inside of you. 
Wonwoo smiles and kisses your nose, “I don’t care… But only if you don’t care that I haven’t either.”
You’re surprised, to say the least. 
Kissing in between smiles, you raise to your knees, letting him tug at the hem of shorts just enough to free his cock. 
It’s nothing like you’ve seen before and unlike the illustrations you remember from school. It’s red and veiny and it glistens with pre-cum under the dim lighting.
But it’s a part of him and you can’t help that your belly stirs at the sight of him stroking himself. 
When you reach for the hem of your nightgown, his hands stop you.
“Keep it on—“ He whispers.
“Why?”
“We’ve got all night to take it off,” He runs his tongue through his top teeth with a side smirk and you almost smack him up the head for being such a little shit.
As he asked so kindly, you bunch up your nightgown around your waist, hips circling around his warmth, meanwhile he’s playing with the flesh of your love handles, kneading and running his fingers over your skin. 
“Ready?”
You nod. He raises your hips and lets you control the pace, you feed in his cock, centimetre by centimetre, feeling it’s girth tear at your walls with an unimaginable sting, it burns hot and heavy in your hands.  
Crashing onto his chest, you cry out a pained yelp.
Wonwoo run his fingers over your back, kissing the top of your head, his eyebrows are bunched up, face painted with worry.  “We can stop— Let’s stop—“
“No!” you raise your head and he can see the tiny droplets bundling around your eyelashes, “Just gimme a minute!”
So you sit there, his cock half-in, pulsing angry red and throbbing under the  tease of warmth and tightness. Especially when you look so breathtakingly gorgeous, he gulps, leaning back against the headboard, urging his mind to be strong. 
It takes you minutes to get used to it, to slowly let the size settle until your muscles are well and accustomed to it and then you start it all over again, feeding the remaining inches until he’s bottomed out. 
And oh heavens, how utterly full and hot you felt. Despite the stinging pain, part of you wants to chase the pleasure, clenching in sheer hunger. 
Wonwoo stares up at you, looking for any signs of discomfort but he is met with the most enticing, beautiful, and tempting creature he’s ever laid his eyes upon. Your eyes are glassy with tears, but you’ve got a determined look on your face with a hint of a smirk that sends shivers down his spine and up his cock. 
“Shit,” He curses out with a smile, leaning back and rutting into your hips only to watch your eyebrows furrow and your mouth gape, a moan threatening to escape. “Ready to move, pretty girl?”
You breathe out, “Yeah.”
Steadying yourself against his chest, you raise your hips, feeling his absence leave you upsettingly empty until you let your body crash back down, his cock impaling you with its warmth once again. You rock against him, shallowly, though the motion is unbearably teasing, even for you. 
Wonwoo lets out an obscene, strained moan, fingernails digging into your waist, but you’re too focused on rocking your hips to notice. How he wants nothing but to piston his hips into your pussy like there is no tomorrow, he relishes in the feeling of your warmth, tight and gummy around his throbbing member. 
And he finds you might be just as insatiable as he is, especially when you’ve found yourself a steady pace, bouncing up and down, and his name pours out of your lips in such a beautiful manner. Though he can’t just let you have all the control, can he?
“Oh—“ You yip, “Feels so— Good—“ Still unsure of your thought, you explore the feeling, rolling your hips, feeling him stretch your wider, fill your insides and leave you full like you’ve never felt before. 
His hips meet yours half way, chasing your cunt every time you leave and pounding into you when you come back down, filling the room with guttural groans and the lewd sound of skin against skin. 
You run your fingers under his shirt, feeling bare, warm skin, the softness of his flesh against your hands, the definition of his pecs and the way his nipples peek through the fabric. Wonwoo groans at the way your manicured nails scratch at his chest, gathering momentum as you bounce yourself on top of him. 
He notices you’ve started moving faster, practically fucking yourself stupid on his cock and he would tease you halfway through tomorrow if he didn’t find himself in such a similar predicament. His pupils are blown wide, eyebrows furrowed across his brow, pretty lips hanging agape. You’re so utterly perfect and you were all his. 
“Tell me how you feel, baby,” He whispers, slowing down for a second. 
You sigh, nuzzling against his neck, “So good— I can’t even describe it—“ Your words are so airy and mindless, you’ve been consumed by the pleasure he gives you.
He catches the sight of the white rim that pools around his member, a mix of your juices, but it’s gone, sheathed inside you before he can admire it. There’s a poisoning thought that flashes in his mind, a fleeting, tempting picture. Of planting his seed in your womb, watching your grow full with child, his child. How absolutely breathtaking you would look, round cheeks and gorgeous smile, pretty fingers caressing your bump. And he would taint your taut stomach with his cum, watching it drip over your skin.
Wonwoo bites his lips so hard it breaks skin, throwing his head back, willing his mind somewhere else, anything else lest he come undone right then and there. 
Stomach tingling with indescribable pleasure, you lean forward, moaning incessantly, unable to contain your ecstasy. He supports your body, wrapping strong arms around your torso, firm hands planted on your hips, taking over the moving so you can lay still and let the buzz consume your body with its electric touch.
It’s a feeling you’ve never felt before, and it crashes over your body in a colossal wave, building up from the pit of your stomach; sending tingles rushing through your boiling blood. 
You raise your head, eyes meeting his and it seems he is familiar with this pleasure. His left hand meets your face, caressing your cheek, yet holding you still so he can gaze, he can watch you come undone around him. 
Wonwoo watches, unblinking, how your eyebrows furry, your eyes are glossy with tears that cling to your pretty lashes, your lips sit in an enticing pout. Yet you part them, letting out increasingly louder cries of his name. 
And you clench around him like there is no tomorrow, egging him on. He thrusts up into you, riding out your orgasm and chasing his over the edge. 
He crashes his lips into yours, savouring your hazy kiss, your tired sighs and it doesn’t take long before he’s spurting hot white strings into you, it trickles down him and stains the silk fabric of his boxers. 
Soon, he stills all movement except for heavy breathing and the soothing circles he runs over your exposed back. 
He kisses your hair. “How do you feel?”
“Good,” You breathe out, “Tired. But good.” 
His chest shakes with a soft chuckle, he runs slender fingers along your hairline, fixing any hairs that cling to sweaty skin. “Me too.” 
“It felt amazing,” You smile, raising your head to face him. “I’ve never felt anything like it.”
Wonwoo hums. 
“I’m glad it was you, Nonu,” You hid your face against his neck in embarrassment at your own mushy words, but Wonwoo feels their extent, hiding the blush of his cheeks. 
It doesn’t take long before the post-orgasm haze lulls you into sleep. 
And you slept like never before. 
The following morning, Wonwoo wakes up to an empty bed. He panics for a second or two, scrambling to look for your belongings, only to find everything is still there.
Calm, he washes himself up and gets dressed to leave. Finally having a moment to digest the previous night’s events. 
He had made up his mind, he would confront his father. His future was his to decide on. 
Looking for you, Wonwoo reaches the foyer, only to see you leaning against the wall, attached to the payphone. When your eyes meet his, you immediately say your goodbyes, ending the call.
“Who did you call?” Wonwoo crosses his strong arms against his chest and you try to ignore the sight of his muscly forearms peeking from the folded sleeves.
You don’t like his tone. “Seokmin.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Why did you call him?”
“I promised I would,” You shrug. 
Wonwoo can’t believe you would call Seokmin out of everyone, especially after you were glued to him last night at the party. “Why him?”
“He’s worried about you, you stupid— Stupid—“ You choke out on any mean names, simply stomping away from him. 
Why was Wonwoo being so mean so early in the morning? You thought after the amazing night you spent together things would change between you.   Stomping your way back to your room, you grumble under your breath.
While you’re folding your clothes, Wonwoo comes back. 
“I’ll talk to my father,” He announces. 
Before you can say anything about that, he continues. “We’ll get married— You and I, I mean— ” He clears his throat, “Will you marry me?”
Like a deer in headlights, you’re frozen, staring at him big-eyed with a dopey smile on your lips. 
“You’ll marry me?” You question, just in case you’ve tricked yourself into hearing the words you’ve wanted most. 
“Yes. And I— I’ll take full responsibility—“
You smile crashes into the ground. “You want to marry me out of… Responsibility?!” The words choke you on their way out. 
Wonwoo furrows his eyebrows, not understanding why you would be upset. “Do you not want to?”
“No, I don’t want to fucking marry you!” Not like that.
His face falls and he assumes a much scarier look on his face. “What would you rather marry Seokmin, then?”
And in your fury, you blurt out “Yes! Yes, I would rather marry him!”
You realise your rejection hurt him, you do. But you’re so blindsided by your anger you can’t bring yourself to care, not when he sees you as a responsibility. 
Wonwoo is suddenly not so angry, but indifferent. You watch his expression go away, replaced by one much scarier, in your opinion; nothing. A plain poker face. 
“Gather your things and go to the car.”
It’s all he says before he leaves the room. 
The ride back is the most nerve-racking hours you’ve ever experienced. Wonwoo is silent, even you huff and puff under your breath, angrily chewing on your breakfast of vending machine snacks. 
Though he says one phrase as you reach the city. “Leave me here.” 
And that’s the last you saw of him for over a month. 
Your previous anger dries up, turning into sadness. Then you’re furious. And heartbroken until you’ve accepted your reality. You’ve ruined your friendship and lost the love of your life.
It takes your sister plucking you out of bed for you to finally leave your bedroom in weeks. 
She was the first and only person you’ve told about the night spent with Wonwoo. Your parents were absolutely furious that you’d do something so dangerous, though relieved at your safety, they weren’t easy on their words. 
“He’s not doing well, you know,” You sister says. 
You humph. 
“I’m serious. Daddy said he’s clumsy, keeps messing up his work. I think you should go and see him.”
Closing your eyes, you let out a worrisome sigh. You still cared way too much to hear those news and not do something about it. 
So you dress up in whatever you can find and drive to his shop, building up a speech on your way there and practising every scenario. You just hoped everything could go back to the way it was. 
He’s working on an old model, hunched over the hood in his light blue coveralls, stains of grease from head to toe. 
“Knock knock,” You announced your presence, fidgeting with the hem of your dress, looking forward to meeting his eyes as much as you dread to. 
Wonwoo immediately recognises your voice, turning around to meet your eyes. 
And he looks just as wrecked as you felt. Deep-set eye bags and a tired gaze. Yet he still smiles just as handsomely. 
“Hey,” He greets. 
“Busy?”
“No! No,” Wonwoo scrambles, placing the wrench down removing his gloves. 
“Can we talk?”
“Yeah, I actually— I wanted to talk to you, too.”
It’s somewhat relieving as well at it’s worrying to hear him say that, it could be an apology as well as an insult or something of the sort. 
“We should— We should go to my office, someone might come in—“
“Yeah— We should.” You nod.
You walk into his office, one you’ve visited and killed time in quite often. But coming here after everything feels so crushing, all this distance between you. 
“Go ahead—“
“You first—“
You both say at the same time and that seems to ease the stubborn awkwardness pooling in the air. You laugh. 
“How about we say it together?” 
“On 3?”
“1”
“2”
“3”
Breathing in, you say the words that come to your mind from the bottom of your heart. 
“I want to marry you.”
“I love you.”
“What?!” 
“What?!” Once again, you both say it at the same time.
“You want to marry me?” He breaks into a wide smile.
“And you love me?” The words feel so alien to you, you can barely believe your ears, you feel the tips of your fingers shake in excitement, your heart pounds so strongly against your rib cage you can almost hear the thumping.
Jeon Wonwoo just said he loves you.
“I— Are you sure you want to marry me? You said you didn’t want to!”
“Yes. Well— I’ve loved you since forever! So when you said you wanted to marry me just out of responsibility— I was heartbroken! It’s like you were forced into doing it!”
“I didn’t want to marry you out of responsibility! I’ve been planning to marry you since the beginning—“
You choke, “You what?!”
Wonwoo sighs, “I never wanted to marry your sister and she was well aware of that… We were blessed that she found her husband and when everything went well, I thought— I hoped that it’d mean we’d be the ones to be wed.”
Processing every word, you almost feel dizzy. “But you said you’d take responsibility!” 
“For roping you into running away from my party.” 
“Oh.” You’re beyond embarrassed for assuming and above all, for getting so angry you didn’t even let him explain himself. 
“I should’ve been clearer,” He admits.
“No— I should’ve talked to you.”
Wonwoo smiles. “Thank you.”
With tiny tears threatening to fall, you can only confirm what you want to know the most. 
“You love me?”
“Always,” He smiles.
Wonwoo seems to remember something, he raises his finger in a “wait” motion and leans over his desk, reaching for the top drawer. It’s only when you catch a peek of the velvet box that you almost keel over.
Gulping, he gathers his courage.
In his grease-stained coveralls that smells of expensive cologne and lavender cleaning supplies, Jeon Wonwoo gets down on one knee, nervously looking up at your with his stupidly gorgeous beady eyes and an expectant smile.
“Will you marry me?”
And in your least presentable dress, the one he’d ruined with grease stains and an unruly hairdo, you respond with the biggest smile:
“Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”
Had you been questioned, there would be an answer to just how long you will love Jeon Wonwoo.
You’ll love him forever. 
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