#because i can't be the only one who feels this way | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

randombush3 · 2 days

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cool about it

alexia putellas x reader

summary: you can't find inspiration for your play

notes: this was rotting in my drafts and then i got drunk and finished it lolz

i refuse to read it back so have fun

The first time Alexia sees you, you are with your friends; sleeves rolled-up, wide smile on your face, a pool cue in your hand as you wield it like a weapon the minute one of the women beside you opens her mouth. She is drawn into observing, craving the knowledge of what you are being told; what is making you blush so furiously. She sees your mouth open, a blackhole that draws her in without mercy, and she barely survives the sound of your loud, raucous laughter

Suddenly, in the universe of football and media events and her little sister’s embarrassingly active love-life, you appear. Like a new star, burning bright, big and hot and… “You’re staring,” says Mapi with a smile. She knows not to tease, and she treads lightly. “You’ve been staring for a while.”

“They’re speaking English.” It’s an incriminating sentence, but it would have been futile to deny Mapi’s accusation anyway.

“I saw her at the bar. She spoke Spanish then.”

“You’ve been stalking her.”

Mapi nods, and holds Alexia’s drink in a silent push to get her over to the pool table. To you. “Because you’ve been staring. I was only making sure she wasn’t a psycho.”

“Thanks,” she scoffs, but, in truth, she is grateful.

As she saunters over (a newly regained skill, months down the line from her traumatic ACL reconstruction surgery), her confidence a believable façade, she decides that she is going to be Alexia Putellas. She is going to be cool about it, and she is going to impress you, and she is going to make you laugh so that she can hear that sound again.

Again, again, again.

“Yeah, sure, you can take over for Soph,” you say, nodding towards the woman who had been on the receiving end of your light prodding with the wooden stick all of friends regret allowing three-drink you to be in charge of. “So you’re spots, I’m stripes. I’ve got two left until I can pot the black, and you, er, you might be at a disadvantage here.” You rub the back of your neck as you peer at the balls on the table, almost all of them left behind by Soph’s inability to play pool. “How about we just, um–”

“Está bien.” Alexia pretends to understand a lot more of what you said than she really does, regretting her choice to approach you in English, but she gets the jist. And, although you make her feel as though life has only just begun, she remembers her competitiveness very, very clearly. “Voy a ganar,” she scoffs.

She holds in her celebration as you break out into a grin, immediately rising to the challenge, glad your friends have tired of the pool table so that no one can interrupt the battle you are about to commence. A battle with a very pretty woman, you must admit.

You lose.

You blame it on Alexia – she tells you her name as she pots three balls in a row – and try not to acknowledge the taunts from your friends at the bar, most of them having watched the entire game from afar to have something to talk about tomorrow. “You win,” comes your pitiful concession after a brutal defeat. “So, what will your prize be?”

It’s an easy answer.

That morning, throat hoarse from the cries that left it the night before, eyes red and tired and way too sensitive to light for you to consider drinking a drop of alcohol ever again, you wrap your arms around the warm body in the unfamiliar bed, finding the intimacy to have lived on longer than it should for a one-night-stand. Barcelona is warm and sunny, the day one to be enjoyed, and the company the best you have had in a while.

It isn’t just that Alexia is a goddess. It isn’t the Amazonian ridges of her stomach and the firmness of her thighs, nor the softness of her hair or the deft movements of her fingers against your scarred skin. No, that is not what has, in just one evening, made you fall in love with her. (You bite your lip as you are overcome with emotion, chest filling up – with which feeling, you do not know –, heart pounding into your bones as the rhythm of your desire to be in Alexia’s life sets into the very framework of your being.) No! How could it be that? How could it be that when there is more?

The coarseness of her determination; the slippery confidence, delicate and sharp, as though it is both the petal of a rose and the thorn that will prick you. Her humour, mistranslated at times, but always ready to make fun of idiots (most often, a specific idiot with a neck tattoo, as you come to realise).

Personally, you believe it to be unfair that Alexia, Alexia Putellas, is simply ‘all that’.

Getting to know each other fails to feel awkward, though you spend a lot of time waiting for the tension to appear.

She discovers who you are, how you have moved to Barcelona for inspiration, finding that very thing lacking in dreary Leeds (the most depressing place on Earth, you could argue). She learns of your dream, although you label it as your ‘plan’: to write a play and to see it on the stage, preferably a grand theatre in the West End. Or in Stratford, where upon lies the greatest soil from which a playwright can grow.

You show her your empty pages, devoid of black print marks. White and white, that goes on until it is clear that you have tired of pressing the ‘enter’ button as though it will ignite a story within. A story that hasn’t yet come, mind.

“Do you think it will work?” she asks you, her accusation carrying nothing but curiosity once you see past the abrupt manner in which she interrupts your lengthy monologue about your severe case of writer’s block.

Maybe you intend to be a little vague, for the sake of your racing heart and your delicate emotions, because you only shrug. You have already found your inspiration, not that you are going to tell her.

Alexia is forward in the sense that she checks how temporary your presence is in her city before asking you out on a date. Your answer of ‘however long this shit takes’ is enough for her to be sure that she wants a second. A third, too.

Then, before you know it, it has been a year.

A year of Barcelona, a year of Spanish sun, and, excitingly, a year in which you have been cured; fingers blessed with movement and ideas and words on the tip of your tongue that run free in Alexia’s ear as you talk and talk and talk. She listens and listens and listens, and switches into the focus of your pairing when you go with her to watch her team play and play and play (why the fuck does football have so many matches?!). The final stage direction, all curling italics and sentimentality, sits at the bottom of the page.

The end of your play.

It is finished, it is done, and, soon after you have revised it one last time, it is sent to your producer friend with a nervous click of the ‘new email’ button and the hope that he is thankful for the times at university when you cared for him when he drank himself so silly that he barely made it to his lectures two days after the night-out.

“It feels good,” you tell Ingrid, the girlfriend of the idiot with the neck tattoo, beaming as she inquires about your work. “I feel like I lived through it to get to this moment, you know? All that’s left to do is for him to read it and decide whether he’ll pick it up. Then, table reads and funding, of course. I’d want to direct, but, also, I’m not going to sell this one. Leasing it and taking a percentage of the royalties will make me loads more, because, Ingrid, this one is the best thing I’ve ever written.”

There is a moment, usually, that comes after you have finished writing. A brief, sharp sort of panic, where you question your worth and your talent; you wonder if you have been lied to your whole life, and that your version of the same twenty-six letters of the alphabet, jumbled up on a white canvas as though you are (after a sleepless, usually) Picasso, is terrible. Or, worse, bad.

Bad. Bad is so… plain. If it is just ‘bad’, you have failed as a writer. If it is not outrageous or unbelievably horrible, or, as one obviously hopes, incredible and amazing… if it is just ‘bad’, well: “Alexia, I’m terrified.”

Alexia kisses your neck (you do not feel the finality of it, or maybe it is that you do not want to) because she knows it isn’t bad; she is more than aware that your play, your new creation, is really rather good. Brilliant, even. “Tranquila, mi amor,” she murmurs in your ear, bringing her arms to rest on your tense shoulders, a hand closing your laptop on its journey. “Le va a flipar.”

“You think so?”

“Sí.”

“Are you saying that because we’re together and you love me?” Your voice is small and unsure, and its teasing lilt is thrown off-kilter by the croak of your anxiety. “Or do you mean it? Please, I hope you mean it.”

“I mean it.” She hates that she does. “Yes, of course I mean it. I love you and I am proud of you.” She hates it, she hates this, and she hates the talent your mind wields; something that is going to rip you from her grasp. It was bound to happen.

Your phone rings; soft, electronic trills dancing in the space between you and the coffee table it has been placed on. “I think that’s him,” you whisper, the volume you had intended to speak at smited by the nervous lump in your throat. Alexia nods mournfully, but you are too busy accepting the call to see.

“Let’s do this,” he says.

…

The first frost of London comes that January. It’s unusual, the locals claim, because the city exists in its own polluted microclimate, but their statistics do not stop the layer of ice from freezing onto the windshield of your car. You are glad London feels just as cold as you do.

Your play is beloved by the actors who speak your words, and the critics amongst your friend group, who for once, have no criticism to give. There is promise here. It is going very well.

You drive to the theatre, ready to sit in on another rehearsal. Though your original intention had been to direct, you pawed off the role to an old school friend upon her return from Broadway. Your decision, you tell her, comes from a lack of experience in direction. You pretend to have had an epiphany: you only want to write the plays.

In truth, this is a lie.

Of course it is a lie.

But how can you direct such happiness, such love and romance, if you know that the very thing that inspired each line has ceased to exist?

Alexia feels like she has ceased to exist.

On the outside, she seems relatively fine. She trains well, plays well, makes appearances where she should, says what you’d expect of her, hopes to make the world a better place. She walks Nala as though the Pomeranian does not whine for you to hold her leash, and she visits her mother and sister even though they continue to ask her why she did what she did.

At night, she scrolls through social media, fingers always leading her back to you; your life; your work; your experiences that you no longer share with her. She cries, then, usually: a common occurrence nowadays.

There is a gaping hole in her chest that has been made by her sticking her fucking foot in it.

She has questions, naturally; each directed hatefully at herself. Why? Why, why why? Why on Earth did she tell you never to come back? Why did she blame you for leaving?

You were always going to leave! Alexia knows that, hates that she knows that.

You came to Barcelona because you couldn’t write, and you wrote. You wrote, you made her fall in love with you, and, when you had finished, you discarded the life you had unexpectedly built all because of some stupid, stupid play.

A play titled–

A play.

A… Alexia can’t even bring herself to think about it.

No, all Alexia can think about is how insignificant she feels when you are no longer in love with her. You: sophisticated, intelligent, brilliant, adoring. Her?

“Lex, you can’t mope if you’re the one who broke it off.” The words leave Alba’s mouth in jest but Alexia recoils as though she has been whipped by her sister’s tongue.

“I’m trying to be cool about it,” she replies like it is the most obvious thing in the world.

It seems as though the globe has spun a full circle on its axis by the time Alba formulates her response, dumb-struck by such fucking idiocy.

Alba hopes her sister feels like a fool – she hopes Alexia looks at herself in the mirror and… laughs, at this point. The whole thing has been ridiculous, in her opinion.

First, her sister claims she is in love with a playwright with no plays to her name (Alba is examining the facts objectively, here, because she did quite like you); then, poof! Like a rabbit in a magician’s hat played in twisted reverse, away you go, and it somehow isn’t even your fault.

She’d like to hate you, for her sister’s sake, but she finds herself loathing her own blood as it thins and thins until it trickles just like water.

Okay, maybe she is being a little dramatic there, but she is still annoyed with Alexia.

Alexia – whose existence as more-than-a-footballer is fading as she loses herself to waves of futile guilt – hates that she cannot hate you. She is plagued by emotional constipation, and though she tries to squeeze the situation for a drop of cruelty from you, she fails to discover a gram of relief.

It would have been kinder for you to have been cruel. Mercy is getting Alexia nowhere, and she would run to you if it were fast enough. Mercy is what renders her in a perpetual state of regret. Mercy is what keeps her up at night, but maybe mercy is what she likes having because it is yours and, in that way, she carries a piece of you with her.

To confuse herself even more, to skew her mind further onto a path of unconventional self-destruction, she silently begs the mercy you have left behind to disappear so that she can learn to do without it. It’ll become a crutch and she wants it ripped from her grasp so that she can learn to walk on her own. She’s capable of that, she tells herself.

(It probably isn’t true.)

…

Opening night.

You’re wearing something far too nice to be comfortable, and there has been a champagne flute in your hand since the lunch held by the investors of the production company. The bubbles have served their purpose, clouding your mind with thoughts that weren’t to do with Alexia and her Alexia life and her Alexia smile and her Alexia way of making an Alexia-shaped cavity in your heart.

It gushes quite a bit, because Alexia is strong and big and capable of damaging you to this extent. You reckon your surprise is foolish but fuck off, you’re trying your best.

Comfortingly, not one scrap of red velvet is visible once the audience is ushered inside the theatre.

It’s beautiful here; small, old. The perfect place to fall in love, just as you did. Or at least, experience the good part through deliciously talented actors and a stellar script (your horn has been tooted enough times for you to give it a go).

Fear creeps up your legs as you take your seat in the front row, guarded by friends and family and proud English teachers who’d believe in you, but you take another sip and it simmers down.

“Careful,” whispers your mum, shoulder nudging yours as you place your plastic cup (no glass in the auditorium) on the patterned carpet just as the show is about to begin. “You’ll not remember this if you don’t take a break.”

And you’re halfway to announcing you don’t want to remember anything at all when the curtain goes up and a woman walks onto stage.

It’s sobering.

The audience is restlessly quiet, anticipating the brilliance they’ve been promised with an impatience that demands to be sated, but the actress takes her sweet time.

She walks from stage left to stage right, then up and down. She’s passively searching for something.

Someone.

(It’s the fucking point, and you knew this would happen because you typed out these exact stage directions once upon a time. Alexia had misplaced a sock – a lucky sock, she claimed – and her passion, her desire to discover it, had weirdly morphed into a scene you could see being played out on a stage.)

“Figure this out later,” speaks the actress with a satisfied smile, folding her arms over her chest. Finally, the audience’s breaths catch, enraptured by the vaguest cop-out of opening lines you could’ve chosen.

They love it, though; they lean forwards in their seats as they are plucked from London and dropped into the middle of Barcelona. It’s mildly unnerving that you can’t escape the journey, clearly a member of the audience even if you don’t need to be told the story, but you land without the masses in the rows behind you.

You land right into Alexia’s arms.

There she is before you, in all her glory, proudly displaying the blue and red that she is so admirably dedicated to. Muscular and tanned, beautiful in the way that she always is, but shining brighter than just that.

And you fucking hate it.

When you imagine Alexia, you imagine her crippled and bed-ridden. Cracked knuckles come to mind, too, and she can barely speak without descending into rattling sobs that hack on and on until she somehow falls into fitful rest.

You come prepared for absolution, expecting to see her dying just as you are, so it’s no wonder that your fists clench at her blasé declaration of “no regrets”.

(By the way, Alexia’s not really there. You’d been stalking her Instagram and so that’s why she’s wearing her training kit, and… and you’re drunk!)

There are many things you’d like to say to her.

Alexia had always been apprehensive of your relationship. She was closed-off to new people, and though she was certain of your importance to her, she was untrusting of much else. It happens when you’re famous; there are many wrong turns to take. And she needed to stay on the right path.

It was impossible to pass Alexia’s test.

For you, that is clear. Broken up with, told to leave and never come back, and begged to find someone else are not descriptors of the winner, nor she who achieved full marks. You’re a bit of a stranger to failing, but you’re trying to forget about it so that it never happens again.

You’re breaking a sweat trying to banish her from your brain, barely registering the applause rippling through the theatre as you reach the interval. Trying to get her out of your head is like tugging at your intestines – a hand down your throat renders you dumb, and pains sears through your stomach as you are emptied and left to be a carcass.

“Is it good?” you ask your mum as you head to the bar in the foyer.

“I wish you had let me meet her.”

…

Alexia has never been to London outside of football before. She’s played in the north and in the south – she’s won every time – and it’s summery enough right now, but she is still a foreigner in the city.

It’s fitting, this feeling of being lost, and it’s acceptable to feel it here because she has an excuse. Lost in Barcelona would be ridiculous.

(But she is.)

Why is Alexia in London when she could be in Spain?

Well the only answer is that she has a ticket to a play in a theatre just off the West End that reminds her of someone she once loved.

She thought it might help, seeing as she hasn’t scored a goal in four weeks with no assists to excuse the drought. Her manager gladly gave her the weekend to recharge, and she escapes matchday seven of Liga F under the guise of illness.

While sleeping with your pillow, your t-shirt, she must have absorbed whatever the fuck you were on. By osmosis.

That block.

And now she has to act like she can’t read your mind.

Her ticket, acquired last minute by a friend in high places as a massive favour, means that she has a front row seat to a damned play. She is well-prepared for the dread that wrenches her gut.

The silence settling over her is uncomfortable and impatient, and the lights go down with a sense of impending doom. It’s a bit like being on death row, Alexia thinks. Here she gets to see the good things – a last meal of whatever she would like (you, of course that’s you) – but it is only because of her inevitable execution that this happens.

The necklace hanging from her collarbones is a noose, the seat is a wooden box about to be kicked out from underneath her, and she needs to make her decision now: does she scream? Should she–

She’s pulled out of her insanely dramatic spiral by a woman walking onto the stage.

Her shoulders are hunched slightly and she has that look in her eye; that pang of hunger.

The actress is recognisable, sure, but that is not the familiarity that strikes Alexia.

It’s the character.

It’s you.

Walking from right to left, towards the back, down to the front, the actress is desperately searching for something.

Inspiration, Alexia assumes, a smug smile briefly brushing her lips as the opening line breaks the tense silence.

“Figure this out later,” you say.

The actress is experienced but she has never read a script like yours before. It moved her to tears, though you claimed it was very happy.

She lies awake at night, furiously envying those who could love like you do.

She pities you, partly, because it’s no secret that the story of this love ended when you came here to put the show on.

She has had to fall in love with someone – method acting, according to the director.

It’s not quite the universe exploding and stars being born that your relationship must have been, but it’s alright and she is glad to see him in the audience.

He’s next to a woman who does not seem to be enamoured by the beauty of the plot.

A woman who seems absolutely fucking horrified.

Her eyes are wide, fists clenched.

You – the real you – are watching Alexia with curiosity, more interested in her reaction to the play than the play itself. You wonder if she knows the significance of tonight; the reason you are here once more.

In one month, the set and costumes will be packed up in boxes and taken onto the main street.

It’s a dream come true.

You’re here to announce the good news at the end of the show.

…

“Alexia.”

She tries not to turn around but she does.

The night is cool and fresher than she’d expected the London pollution to allow, and the lamp posts are scarily looming over her as she forces herself to not run into your arms. You don’t wear a coat, although your year in Barcelona has borne a certain nostalgia for a warmer climate, but Alexia is wrapped up warm.

“How… how are you doing?”

You cringe at how apologetic it sounds. She broke up with you.

There is a year that will be forever lost to love and happiness, bliss in Barcelona that was always going to be too good to be true.

There is a year that you will never get back, but there is a breakup you must deal with.

It’s not a brick wall, it’s a hurdle to jump over.

Breaking up won’t be the end of your worlds.

Knowing this, despite the weakness in her knees and the aching of her heart, Alexia lies. For your sake, she lies.

“I’m good. It’s nice to see you.”

You’re drowning but you’ll eventually remember how to swim.

“You too,” you say with formulated sincerity that one day will grow naturally. “Score a goal next time you play, though.”

#woso x reader #woso imagines #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas imagine #randombush3

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gremlingottoosilly · 2 days

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Blind!Reader who accidentally bumped hard into Mafia!Konig, hard enough for to Konig thought it's some punk who wants to pick a fight with him but only to find a cute girlie with a walking stick that sprawled on the floor because of the wall of meat he is (feel free to use the "you hurt your ankle!?" excuse for him to take Blind!Reader for his own)

Konig was ready to kill when he felt someone bump into him. A fucker should be blind not to notice this wall of muscles and bottled anger coming his way - and Konig sure as hell would make them blind if they are dumb enough not to look around when they are walking. His hand goes to grasp his gun - an instinct, in case the fucker wasn't just dumb, but an enemy...and then he hears a whimper. Clacking of a stick falling to the ground. Cute whimpers. Female whimpers. The "oh my god, sir, I'm so sorry, I didn't want to bump into you, but they changed the street layout since winter and-" God, you were fucking adorable. Precious. Pretty. Cute. Whimpering like a kitten when he helped you stand up, letting you clutch on his hands as a guiding line. Supported you by your waist while handing you the walking stick - and not letting go of your body even as you were trying to stand up without being wobbly. He knows you're probably fine, you didn't fall that badly, but he grasps for straws in trying to keep you by his side. Apologizes, even, his nervous and anxious self returning for a second as he understands that the situation isn't about possible murder. It's about possibly finding a cute girlfriend. Now, he obviously can't leave you to fend for yourself. Konig doesn't care that you survived on your own and is perfectly fine without him - he also doesn't care that you really hate having him dote over you like you're some helpless creature. He needs you by his side, preferably under him, and the fact you survived for so long on your own actually doesn't say anything - he needs to protect you, even if it means being as overbearing as possible. Even if it means simply picking you up like a lost cat and getting you over his shoulder, squeezing your ass one time before packing you into a dark vehicle. You can calm down by trying to memorize his face through your hands, and he can memorize himself with the curves of your sweet body. God, he is going to enjoy making you his...even if it means locking you up in his mansion so no enemy could use you to get to him.

#cod #konig x reader #konig #yandere konig #cod x reader #yandere cod #mafia!konig #mafia!cod

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imaginaryf1shots · 2 days

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Red Line | CL - LH

WC: 5K

Charles Leclerc x reader, Lewis Hamilton x reader

Summery;(REQUESTED) You have had feelings for Charles for years, your best friend. When he fails to return your feelings and a new Ferrari driver joins the team, he shows you attention and care. It is less complicated.

Warning: angst?

AN: i debated who she should end up with, but he's my number 1 driver, and I'm WEAK for him.

Masterlist

You have been working at Scuderia Ferrari since 2018, you started as an intern under the engineering team, you quickly became a permanent engineer for Charles in 2019 and have continued to develop and grow as the time went on. Maybe it's because you joined the same year Charles did, or it's because you were one of his first engineers when he started working for the red team, but the two of you have grown so close to each other. You consider Charles to be one of the closest people to you, during work hours and out of work hours. You see each other a lot even in the off-season. Charles values your opinion and cares a lot about it, he also considers you one of his close friends. Whenever you’re in the paddock you're always close by, he can depend on you. He prides himself in knowing you, he knows your coffee order, your favourite food, your dreams and hopes, he knows it all.

The moment Charles joined the team, you just clicked, your connection instant and so effortless. You both don't have to overthink it... at the start at least.

On long days, feeling the effect of the jetlag, when you'd almost drop from how tired you are, Charles always brings you coffee for a boost. On days where you're both in Maranello, he'd always offers you a ride back to the small house you have in Italy, he always insists that it's on his way but both of you know that it wasn't. He's always been patient and calm, and that made him a good listener. On plane rides when only the two of you are awake he'd just happily sit down and listen to you vent, his patience seemingly endless.

Even the fans picked up on the bond between the two of you, some speculating you're a couple. Thankfully it wasn't a big thing or it would have affected your job, but every now and then you both get those kinds of comments. And maybe you just had the smallest hopes that you were an actual couple, those feelings you have slowly ate at you every day. You were in love with Charles, the intensity of your feelings scared you. You can never tell him what you're feeling with the fear of ruining the perfect balance of your friendship. And even though he treats you in a way a partner would on a lot of occasions, he acts completely oblivious to it, as if everything he does with you he does for everyone else.

On a late evening, as you looked over the latest numbers and data, Charles came seemingly out of nowhere with two cups of coffee in hand.

"Long night, huh?" He said, offering you the coffee, you smiled, grateful for his gesture.

"Thanks." You take a sip and sigh in content. "You always know when I need the caffeine boost."

Charles leans on the desk beside you and grins. "It's the perk of knowing you so well, how are my numbers?"

"Not good." You tease him, Charles leans over to see what you're looking at. "They're saying you're too nice."

Charles laughs and rolls his eyes. "I'll try to be less nice then, maybe I'll start with you."

"Come on now, I was just joking." You pout at him and he smiles.

"How long until you finish up?" Charles asks and you hum.

"Not long, I'm just finishing up." You tell him, and he nods but doesn't move.

"Do you need a ride?" Charles asks, his eyes not straying from you. "I'm heading out."

"You're staying on the other side of town." You raise an eyebrow, those words you say to him every time.

"It's no trouble, besides it's an excuse to spend more time with my favourite person on the team." Your heart skips a beat at his words and you can't fight the smile.

"Alright, I'll take you up on that."

Those kinds of things your mind wanders to, especially on those sleepless nights while you're lying in bed. Your mind always goes back to the little moments that you shared, the moments that got your heart to flutter, the lingering glances, the causal touches, and the shared laughter. You cherish those moments, holding them close to you like precious and delicate Chinas. But there was always doubt. Did he actually feel the same way? Will he ever feel the same way? Or are you just destined to always be his friend?

Your thoughts all came to a halt when the room buzzed, by the new arrival. The room was alight with anticipation as Lewis Hamilton walked in, his presence commanding attention. His move to Ferrari is sensational, the talk of the paddock all of last year. The move turned F1 upside down. Lewis greeted everyone with a practised charm, a smile on his face, he wanted to seem genuine, he wanted to not come across as a big headed driver and just to get to know everyone he works with, to create a harmonious and smooth working place. Lewis met everyone's gaze as he greeted them, but when his eyes met yours, something shifted.

"Hey there." Lewis said, approaching you with a smile. "You must be the genius behind these impressive numbers."

You laughed, feeling slightly flustered. "I'm not too sure about the genius part, but I try my best. Welcome to Ferrari, Lewis."

"Thanks, it's great to be here." Lewis said and looked around the room before his eyes settled back on you. "I've heard a lot about you, mind if I pick your brain a bit?"

"Not at all, what do you want to know?"

And so you and Lewis stood talking for a bit, before he was whisked away to continue his tour and meet the rest of the workers. But as his presence became permanent in the factory you found yourself spending a lot of time with him. He often sought you out and at first it was just to understand all the data and how the new car will function and he had ideas that he wanted to see if it could be implemented or not. Your conversations flowed easily, from the team, to the car to your role it all went and flowed easily. And you found yourself thinking more about Lewis and looking forward to your time together.

Lewis had a knack of lightening the mood and making everything seem so effortless. It's a trait that you appreciate. It was refreshing.

One afternoon, you were reviewing data together. Lewis leaned over your shoulder, his proximity causing you to lose focus for a moment.

"So what's the secret sauce here?" He asked his tone playful, it was as if he had no idea what he was doing, as if his proximity was not having any effect on you.

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a secret then, would it?" You laughed, nudging him lightly.

"Fair point, but come on, give me something." Lewis smiled at vou. "I promise I won't tell anyone.”

"Alright, alright." You said after rolling your eyes, your smile showed that you're actually okay with it. "It's all in optimising the balance between speed and control, especially in the corners. We've been finetuning it for months."

"See, now I'm learning something, you really are the genius everyone says you are." You blushed and shrugged, brushing off the compliment.

"It's a team effort."

"Yeah, but each team has its MVP." He said and his eyes locked with yours for a moment longer than necessary.

One dqy, you were in the garage with Charles, adjusting some settings to his car, when Lewis came a playful grin on his face.

"Hey, engineer extraordinaire, got a moment?" Lewis asked, his eyes filled with mischief.

"What's up, Lewis?" You looked up at him already amused.

"I've got a serious question for you, it's about strategy." Lewis leaned next to you, his eyes going to Charles with the playful look on his face. Charles watched the interaction with intrigue, he of course noticed how close you and Lewis became, but he never actually saw you interact.

"Go on."

"Pineapple on pizza, yes or no?" This was not what you expected at all, Charles was even surprised, but where you laughed he did not.

"Really? That's your serious question?"

"Absolutely, it's crucial information." He said laughing along with you.

"Well, if you must know, I'm a pro-pineapple." You shrugged, throwing your hands up. "Controversial, I know."

"I knew I loved you for a reason, you've got good taste." Lewis winked at you before he patted Charles's shoulder and left you back to what you were doing.

"That's it?" You asked after the older driver.

"Yeah." With a wave of his hand over his shoulder he was out of sight. You shook your head and went back to what you were doing before he came in with a smile on your face.

"Huh." Charles mutters frowning, things are changing, and it's making him feel some type of way, he has no idea what to feel about it.

As your relationship grew and your banter continued, you found yourself looking forward to these light-hearted moments. Lewis had a way of making the most mundane topics entertaining. He was effortlessly funny, and his humour was a refreshing change from the intense atmosphere of the garage.

One evening, after a particularly long day, you found yourselves alone in the garage. You were finishing up some data analysis when Lewis wandered over, two bottles of water in hand. You got dejavu, as your mind flashed to when Charles would get you coffee and drive you home whenever you had long days.

“Thought you might need this.” He said, handing you one.

“Thanks, Lewis, you’re a lifesaver.”

He took a seat next to her, watching her work. “You know, you’ve got this incredible focus. It’s impressive.”

You smiled, a little flustered by the compliment. “It’s part of the job.”

“Still, it’s something, I’ve been meaning to ask, how did you end up here? With Ferrari, I mean.”

You paused, considering how to condense years of passion and hard work into a few sentences. “I’ve always loved racing. Grew up watching it with my family. I studied engineering because I wanted to be part of this world, and Ferrari… well, it’s the dream, isn’t it?”

“It really is, and you’re amazing at what you do. The team’s lucky to have you.” Lewis nodded, genuinely believing his words.

“Thanks, Lewis. That means a lot.” You felt a blush creep up your cheeks.

As the days turned into weeks and the weeks turned to months, you noticed more about Lewis. His dedication to his craft, the way he treated everyone on the team with respect, and his infectious enthusiasm. He was different from what you had expected, and you found yourself drawn to him in ways you hadn’t anticipated.

There was a particular day that stood out. You had a meeting scheduled and as you waited for it to begin, you were both early. Lewis started telling a story about an adventure he had on a race weekend in Japan.

“So there I was, completely lost in Tokyo, and none of my apps were working. I couldn’t read the signs, and I was pretty sure I was going to end up on the news as the driver who went missing in the middle of a city. Then, out of nowhere, this old lady comes up to me and starts speaking perfect English, asking if I needed help. Turns out she used to live in London. She got me back to my hotel, and we still exchange Christmas cards.”

“Only you, Lewis. Only you.” You laughed, shaking your head.

“What can I say? Adventure finds me.” He said with a wink.

It was in these moments that you started to notice his attractiveness, not just physically, though he was undeniably handsome, but in the way he carried himself, the kindness in his eyes, and the warmth of his smile. He made you laugh, made you feel seen and appreciated. It was a stark contrast to the complicated, often unspoken dynamics you had with Charles.

As time went on the lines between her professional and personal life began to blur once more, but with a new Ferrari driver. You and Lewis continued to grow closer, your bond solidifying with each shared laugh and meaningful conversation. Yet, with each passing day, the tension between you and Charles grew more.

One morning, as you arrived at the garage, Charles was waiting for you, his usual easygoing demeanour replaced with a more serious expression. Something that you picked on instantly, you can read Charles easily.

“Hey.” He greeted, handing you a cup of your favourite coffee. “Got a minute?”

“Sure, thanks for the coffee” You replied, knowing that something big is about to drop. “What’s up?”

He led her to a quieter corner of the garage, away from the prying eyes and ears of your colleagues. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something. It’s... about Lewis.”

You sighed inwardly, bracing yourself. “What about him?”

“I’ve noticed you two have been spending a lot of time together.” Charles ran a hand through his hair, a habit you knew indicated he was stressed.

“Yes, we have. He’s new and has a lot of questions. We’ve become friends.” You nodded, keeping your voice steady.

“Friends?” Charles echoed, a hint of scepticism in his voice. “It seems like more than that.”

“Charles, we are friends.” You looked him in the eye, his stare was unwavering, you’ve never hidden anything from Charles, it wasn’t in your nature. You blinked a few times before you continued, your voice dropping a little. “I may have feelings for him and I’m pretty sure he feels the same.

His jaw tightened, and he looked away for a moment before speaking again. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt. He’s got a reputation, you know.”

“Lewis has been nothing but kind and respectful to me.” You countered. “I appreciate your concern, Charles, but I can handle this.”

“Alright. Just... be careful, okay?” He sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly.

“I will.” You promised, feeling a mix of relief and guilt as you walked away.

That evening, after another successful session, Lewis invited you out for dinner. As you sat in a cosy restaurant, the conversation flowed easily, and you found yourself relaxing in his presence.

“You look like you’ve got a lot on your mind,” Lewis observed, his eyes searching your face.

“Just the usual stress of the job.” You smiled, waving him off. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Anything I can help with?” It takes you a moment to answer before you decide to confide in him,

“It’s Charles. He’s... concerned about us spending time together, he thinks I might get hurt.”

Lewis’s expression softened. “I understand where he’s coming from, but I want you to know, I’m serious about this. About us.”

“I know.” You said, reaching out to squeeze his hand, fighting the blush from forming on your cheeks. “I just need to figure out how to manage everything.”

Charles sat alone in his hotel room, the dim light casting long shadows on the walls. The conversation with you earlier played over and over in his mind. He had always thought your friendship was special, but seeing you with Lewis had stirred something deep within him, something he couldn’t ignore any longer.

His phone buzzed on the nightstand, a new message from you: “Thank you for understanding, Charles. It means a lot to me.”

He stared at the words, feeling a pang of longing and regret. How had he not seen it before? The way his heart quickened whenever you laughed, the comfort he felt in your presence, the jealousy that gnawed at him every time he saw you with Lewis, it all pointed to one undeniable truth. He was in love with you.

Memories flooded his mind: the late-night conversations, the shared glances across the garage, the way you always seemed to know what he needed without him having to ask. He had taken it all for granted, thinking it was simply the bond of close friendship. But now, faced with the reality of losing you to someone else, he realised just how much you meant to him.

Charles leaned back against the headboard, running a hand through his hair. How could he have been so blind? He had always been there for you, and you for him, but he had never allowed himself to consider the possibility of something more. Now, it seems, it might be too late.

On track after that, Charles found it hard to focus. His mind was clouded with thoughts of you, of what he needed to do. He watched you from a distance, your interactions with Lewis emphasising the urgency of his situation. He couldn’t stand by and watch you slip away without at least telling you how he felt. And from then on tension between him and Lewis started to mount.

One afternoon, as the team prepared for a crucial race weekend, the tension between Charles and Lewis came to a head. They were in the garage, going over the final preparations, when Charles finally voiced his frustration.

“Lewis, can we talk?” Charles asked, his tone clipped.

“Sure.” Lewis replied, sensing the underlying tension, and he had a pretty good idea why Charles wanted to talk to him.

They stepped outside, away from the hustle of the garage. Charles turned to face him, his eyes blazing. “What are your intentions with y/n?”

“My intentions? I care about her, Charles.” Lewis raised an eyebrow, taken aback by the directness. “Isn’t that obvious?”

“She means a lot to me.” Charles clenched his fists, struggling to keep his emotions in check. “I don’t want to see her hurt.”

“And you think I do?” Lewis shot back, his voice rising. “I’ve been nothing but honest with her. What about you, Charles? Have you told her how you feel?”

Charles was silent, the truth hanging heavily between them. He hadn’t, and now he feared it might be too late. It seemed that even Lewis knew about his feelings even before he did. Charles gave Lewis a nod and left him abruptly.

His feelings weren’t just affecting his relationship with you, and with Lewis but it started to be felt by the team as well, and it wouldn’t be long before the fans started to spot it as well.

Inside the garage, you could sense the growing tension between the two men. It was affecting the team’s morale, and you knew you had to do something. So you approached Charles.

“Charles, we need to talk.” You nodded to the side for him to follow her.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked once you stood in a quiet corner.

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. “This... thing between you and Lewis, it needs to stop. It’s affecting the team.”

“I know.” He admitted, his voice unsteady. “I just... I can’t stand the thought of losing you.”

“You’re not losing me,” You said gently, giving him one of your smiles that always calmed him down, but it seemed like it wasn’t working at this moment. “But you need to understand that I have feelings for Lewis. And I need you to respect that.”

“I’m trying. But it’s hard.” Charles looked at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of pain and longing.

“I know it is.” You replied, placing a hand on his arm and his heart skipped a beat. “But we’ll get through this. We always do, as friends.”

This sent a bang to his heart, how many times he’s called you a friend not knowing the effect it had on you, it seemed like now he knows.

”What?” You asked, seeing the look on his face. “You have something you want to tell me.”

”I-uh…” Charles trailed off, his confidence suddenly gone.

”Charles, just say it.”

Charles took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and there’s something I need to tell you. Something I should have said a long time ago, and maybe this is not the right time but I can’t hold it in any longer.”

“Okay. What is it?” Your heart started beating fast in your chest.

“I’m in love with you.” He blurted out, the words rushing out in a torrent of emotion. “I have been for a long time. I just... I didn’t realise it until now. Seeing you with Lewis made me see what I’ve been too afraid to acknowledge. I don’t want to lose you, not like this.”

“Charles... I...” Your eyes widened in shock and confusion, those words you’ve longed to hear for years, and here he is saying them to you, but… it’s a bit late. This just complicated everything.

“I know this is sudden,” He continued, his voice trembling slightly. “And I know you have feelings for Lewis. But I had to tell you. I couldn’t keep it to myself any longer. You mean everything to me, and I can’t stand the thought of not trying.”

You were silent for a long moment, your gaze dropping to the ground as you processed his words. When you finally looked up, your eyes were filled with a mix of sadness and uncertainty.

“Charles, I... I don’t know what to say.” You admitted. “This is a lot to take in. I care about you so much, but I also have feelings for Lewis. I’m- I'm just so confused right now.”

“I understand.” He said softly. “I’m not asking for an answer right now. I just needed you to know how I feel. Whatever you decide, I’ll respect it. But I couldn’t let you go without telling you the truth.”

“I need some time to figure this out.” Your emotions were everywhere and you couldn’t make sense of them.

“Take all the time you need.” He replied, his voice gentle. “I’ll be here, no matter what.”

As you walked away, Charles felt a strange sense of relief mingled with apprehension. He had laid his heart bare, and now the rest was up to you. All he could do was hope that, in the end, you would see that he was the one who truly loved her, that with all your shared memories spent together you’d choose him, and that it wasn’t too late.

As you walked away, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of the situation pressing down on you. Your mind is spinning, the weight of his confession pressing heavily on your heart. As much as you had longed to hear those words from him, the timing felt like a cruel twist of fate. You needed clarity, and the only person who could help you find it was Lewis.

So that evening, you went to Lewis’s hotel room. The city lights outside cast a warm glow, creating an intimate atmosphere. Lewis welcomed you in with a gentle smile, sensing the turmoil in your eyes.

“Hey.” He said softly, leading you to the sofa. “You look like you’ve had a rough day.”

You nodded, your emotions still raw from your earlier conversation with Charles. “I need to talk to you about something important.”

“What’s going on?” Lewis sat beside you, frowning.

“Charles confessed his feelings to me today.” You took a deep breath. “He told me he’s in love with me.”

“I see.” He knew about his feelings, but he didn’t think Charles actually had it in him to confess. “ And how do you feel about that?”

“It’s complicated.” You admitted, your voice trembling. “I’ve had feelings for Charles for a long time. I thought he only saw me as a friend, so I never said anything. But now...”

“I understand.” Lewis nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. “This must be really confusing for you.”

“It is.” Your voice barely above a whisper. “But the thing is, I’ve been waiting for Charles to notice me for years. And while I was waiting, I met you. You’ve been so kind, so genuine, and… I couldn’t help but start to have feelings for you.”

“I care about you a lot.” Lewis reached out, taking your hand in his. “More than I’ve cared about anyone in a long time. But I don’t want to be with you if your heart is somewhere else. You deserve to be happy, whatever that means for you.”

“I know. And that’s why I need to be honest with you.” Tears welled up in your eyes as you squeezed his hand, it’s all too much for you. “I’ve spent so much time waiting for Charles to return my feelings, and it’s cost me a lot of happiness. I don’t want to waste any more time. I want to give us a chance, Lewis. I want to see where this can go.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel pressured.” Lewis’s eyes softened with relief and warmth.

“I’m sure.” You nodded firmly, your decision made. “You’ve shown me what it feels like to be appreciated and cared for. I don’t want to let that go.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” He smiled, a genuine, heartfelt smile that made your heart flutter. “I promise, I’ll do everything I can to make you happy.”

You sat in silence for a moment, the weight of your decision settling between you both. You felt a sense of peace, knowing you had made the right choice for yourself. The future was uncertain, but with Lewis by your side, you felt ready to face it.

After your talk with Lewis, and your decision being made, you were filled with a mix of excitement and apprehension. Being with Lewis felt right, it was easy and your bond just grew stronger every day. He made you laugh, supported your ambitions and treated you with a level of respect and affection, you hadn’t realised you were missing.

But your past with Charles still haunted you, you saw him every day for work and there was a subtle tension over you and it affected the team dynamic. Charles was professional, as always, but there was a distance and coldness to his demeanour that hadn’t been there before. It hurt you to see him struggling, but you knew you had made the right choice. For yourself.

After a race weekend, that was hard and gruelling on you and Lewis and the rest of the team, Lewis took you out to a quiet restaurant. The conversation was light and filled with laughter, a welcome respite from the pressure that is their work.

“Can you believe how many laps we ran today?” Lewis joked, shaking his head. “I thought my arms were going to fall off.”

You laughed, enjoying the ease of your banter. “I was beginning to think they’d made you a permanent fixture on the track.”

As you continued to talk, you felt a warmth spreading through your chest. This was what you had been missing—genuine connection, unburdened by years of unspoken feelings and what-ifs.

Meanwhile, back at the hotel, Charles sat alone in his room once more, he was staring at his phone. He had been avoiding you, unsure of how to navigate your new reality. The thought of you with Lewis was a constant ache in his heart, but he couldn’t deny that you seemed happier. Unable to bear the silence any longer, Charles decided to reach out. He typed out a message, his fingers hovering over the send button before finally pressing it.

Can we talk? I miss our friendship.

Your phone buzzed just as you and Lewis were finishing dessert. You glanced at the screen, your heart sinking slightly at the sight of Charles’s name. Lewis noticed your expression and raised an eyebrow.

“Everything okay?” he asked gently.

You nodded, showing him the message. “It’s from Charles. He wants to talk.”

“Do you want to go see him? It’s okay if you do.” Lewis took your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“I think I should.” You said softly. “We need to clear the air.”

Later that evening, you found herself outside Charles’s hotel room, your heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and resolve. You knocked gently, and a moment later, the door opened to reveal Charles’s weary face.

“Hey,” he greeted, stepping aside to let you in.

“Hey.” You replied, taking a seat on the edge of the sofa. “You wanted to talk?”

“I did.” He nodded, closing the door and sitting opposite you. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what I said to you, and I realised I was being unfair. I shouldn’t have put you in that position.”

“Charles, it’s okay.” You said softly. “I’m glad you told me how you feel. But I also needed to be honest with myself. Waiting for you for so long, it was hard. And in that time, I found something real with Lewis.”

“I understand.” He looked down, his expression pained but accepting. “It just took me too long to see what was right in front of me. I don’t want to lose you as a friend, though. You mean too much to me.”

Your heart ached for him, for the years of missed opportunities and unspoken words.

“You won’t lose me, Charles. Our friendship is important to me too. It’ll take some time, but we can find a way to move forward.”

He nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I’d like that.”

And so the tension began to ease, it took time, but you and Charles found a new rhythm. Your friendship slowly mending as you navigated this new phase of thier relationship. Lewis was a constant source of support, his presence a steady anchor in the shifting tides of her emotions.

And so one race weekend, as the team prepared for another race, you found yourself standing between Lewis and Charles, the three of you chatting easily. There is a new understanding between you.

“Ready for this weekend?” Lewis asked, grinning at you.

You smiled, feeling a sense of contentment you hadn’t felt in a long time. “More than ever.”

Charles chimed in, his eyes warm with genuine affection. “We’ve got this.”

In that moment, surrounded by the people who meant the most to you, you knew you had made the right choices. Your relationships weren’t perfect but it was close to it. Most importantly you are happy.

Maintaglist:

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @mysticalpenguinarbiter

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facioleeknow · 2 days

Text

The art of pleasure ch.1

Caress ° Bang Chan

When one girl in your class makes fun of you for being a virgin at a party, you are left distraught. It's only natural that you decide to whine about it to your best friend, Bang Chan; but he does more than lending a shoulder to cry on, he comes up with a solution. He and his 7 friends will help you and teach you all about the pleasure of the flesh. What could go wrong?

Genre: College AU, SMUT 18+ ONLY wc: 1431

Warnings: fraternity skz, inexperienced reader, experienced chan and stray kids, kissing, frat party, a bitch, insecurities

The art of pleasure masterlist

A/N: Hello, thank you so much for the support on this series!! This chapter is pretty tame BUT IT IS THE FIRST, so don't worry about it!! Channie girls don't worry he's gonna get some later ;)

Another semester. Another party at the only frat house on campus, it was nothing out of the ordinary. The usual room filled with flowing alcohol and the usual people, dancing to the usual songs. You’re sure it might be the idea of fun of some of the people that surrounded you but not yours, obviously not yours. That was why you were the only unusual thing in there. You weren’t a party animal, you weren’t so extroverted as to go to a party to have fun. Unfortunately it was also your best friend’s birthday who happened to be the president of the fraternity, so you really couldn’t have said no to his invitation.

The scene in front of you shifted. A drunk girl started approaching you.

“Oh my god, Y/N! You’re here, I’m so happy to see you,” the girl, from one of your classes, threw her arms around you and squeezed tightly. The feeling of her foreign body pressed against yours made you shiver uncomfortably.

“Oh, c’mon Y/Nnie, loosen up a little!” Alice said with a sly slime. Before you could commit murder in cold blood in front of your whole year, your two (out of three) friends pulled you away into a more secluded area of the room. In front of you laid a messy circle of people, intently focused on a spinning bottle.

‘Yuck’

“I can't believe people still play spin the bottle at their old age,” Shuhua mumbled as disgusted as you.

“You read my mind,Shu.”

“Omg Y/Nnie! You want to play spin the bottle? Wouldn't it be embarrassing tho? Since you're a virgin at your big age,” Alice fell into a fit of giggles, soon followed by her friends.

“God, she cannot be serious,” you whispered to your friends while you all collectively side-eyed the bitch. And that was exactly what she was, nothing other than a bitch. But then why was your face burning in shame and your heart racing? Why were your palms sweating so much? You shouldn't have been that affected but you were.

For the whole night you couldn’t help but think about Alice's words, because no matter how spiteful they were and how much of a bitch she was, they were also true. You were a virgin “at your big age”, but that had never bothered you until you had entered college. Never in your life had you seen so many people get involved with each other and in some ways you felt pushed aside and in the dark about this magical new world that everybody had already discovered, everybody but you.

The red solo cup in your hands wrinkled slightly under your fingertips as you squeezed it. You shouldn’t have been thinking about those things, why were you hyperfocusing right now?

“You’re supposed to collect the cups, babygirl, not strangle them,”a masculine voice pulled you out of your train of thoughts. Bang Chan, the birthday boy and your best friend. You and Chan had known each other since your first year of college, he had saved you from making a fool out of yourself the first day and walked you to your lecture hall. Since then he had stuck by your side and helped you make some new friends even if you were extremely picky with people.

“Ew, Christopher, I told you not to call me that,” you grimaced at the cringey name. He just giggled.

“I know, but I like annoying you too much,” another giggle. A small smile threatened to break your “angry” facade, this carefree side of him was a rare sight and the fact that he was showing it to you was making you giddy.

His warm hands snatched the trash bag away from you before clasping around your smaller ones.

“Seriously, what is going on?”

Lying wasn’t an option, he was way too observant for his own good, he always knew when you lied even when you didn’t yourself. You scoffed.

“Just something Alice said,'' and with that you tried to grab the bag from behind him to resume your job. No movement, he had an iron grip on you.

“What did she say?”

“Just her usual nagging, you know how she is,” you tugged and tried to get away from his grip to no avail.

“Tell me,” he wasn’t asking and that was obvious to the both of you.

“She said that it’s embarrassing to be a virgin at my big age.”

Chan finally let your hands fall to your sides and in exchange wrapped his arms around you and squished you against his chest.

“Bitch, she shouldn’t have been here, she wasn’t invited,” his chest rumbled with his words, “I’m sorry Y/N, I hope you know she’s in the wrong.”

With your arms wrapped around Chan and your face squished against his chest, with the gentleness of his voice caressing you, you found it hard to lie so you just stayed silent.

“Oh baby, don’t think about it, okay? She’s wrong and there is nothing wrong with you. Let’s go to bed, I can clean up tomorrow morning.”

For the whole night you tossed and turned with always the same thought in you mind, hoping not to wake Chan who was sleeping soundly next to you for once.It was no surprise that early in the morning you felt exhausted, your limbs were heavy and your mind was foggy, but you still couldn’t fall asleep.

“Did you sleep at all? I heard you move around a lot,” Christopher groaned next to you, his arm lazily draped over your middle.

“Sorry,” you tried to utter in your half dead state.

“I had an idea while I was sleeping,” he dragged your body against his and started to gently rub your arm to ease you to sleep. You only hummed in response.

“You should let me and the kids teach you about sex, you know us and we’re good people, we would never push you to do anything. We can take anything at your own pace, we’ll teach you well,” he spoke like he was saying the most natural thing in the world and not suggesting you get passed between him and his other seven friends. Sensing your confusion, Chan gently shushed you and started rubbing your arm again.

“Think about it, we can talk about it when you wake up.”

A witty response was about to come out of your mouth but darkness enveloped you like a hug. Chan hugged you tighter to his chest and sighed. ‘That went well’, he thought.

When you woke up, a blinding light was filtering through the window. Damn Christopher who never closed the blinds.

“Good morning,” the said man chirped happily from next to you. The moment you laid your eyes on him, the conversation from that morning resurfaced to your mind. The frantic beating of your heart sent a shot of adrenaline through you.

“I take it you remember what I asked you,” he put his phone back on his nightstand to fully give you his attention.

“Chris..” you started but he swiftly interrupted you.

“We’re not doing it out of pity, we are all attracted to you, we wouldn’t make it awkward and if you refuse it’s gonna be like it never happened,” Chris answered all of your questions like he could read your mind. You were confused, your heart (and your vagina) wanted to say yes but your head told you to refuse.

‘Fuck it, stop thinking.’

“Okay, let’s do it.” Chris stayed silent, only your synced breaths could be heard in the room. The tension was thick and full of desire.

“Can I kiss you, pretty girl? Just a kiss and you can stop me anytime you want.”

“Yes, please.” With that Chris pulled you in his lap in mere seconds and attached your lips together. He wasted no time and pushed his tongue in your mouth, still his movements were gentle and slow just like yours were slow and hesitant. His whole persona dripped in gentle dominance, it made you hot and sweat and made your pussy throb. His hands roamed your body and tentatively groped around, testing your limits. Your lips moved more and more confidently the more time they were attached to Chan’s.

Your lungs burned from the lack of air but you didn’t care, you were drunk on his touch, his taste, you were drunk on him.

Chan was the first to break the kiss and immediately giggled when you tried to kiss him again.

“Patience baby, we have a lot of time.”

Taglist:

@kflixnet @hann1bee @bahng-chrizz @staysinbloom @laylasbunbunny @caitlyn98s

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starbop · 2 days

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How SMELLY all the Honkai Boys are...

Here's my ranking of HSR boys based on how much I think they smell. Explanations + headcanons below the cut!

The Top Stinkers

Caelus literally digs through garbage for fun. I don't think I need to defend their spot as the #1 stinkiest mf in this whole game. 11/10 on the stink scale.

Sampo also has the energy of someone who enjoys garbage. I, for one, have no idea where that thing has been and I don't think I want to know. He is also known to hide in piles of snow when need be, meaning he's just out there rolling around on the ground sometimes. 10/10 would not sniff again.

Luka is the sweatiest man alive. But he looks SO good doing it. The sparks and smoke his arm produces, while very cool to look at, do not help his smelliness rating. 8/10 because he at least has good reasons for smelling funky.

I do not think Blade has ever taken a shower. You could fry a whole chicken with the oil from his hair. 9/10.

Boothill smells like a mixture of motor oil, grease, and sweat. Not a smell I would personally hate, but objectively not a good one. Yeehaw/10.

The Smelly

I feel like, in theory, you could smell like anything in the Dreamscape. I just also feel like Gallagher would not choose to smell good. 7/10.

I really want to believe that he'd smell good, but the second he finishes his magical girl transformation sequence, Imbibitor Lunae reeks with the smell of seaweed. I will deduct a stinky point from my initial rating because some people may think this smells good. They are wrong. 7/10.

Neutral Smelling

Yanqing should reek from all the time he spends fighting and training, but Jing Yuan is not letting that boy leave the house without taking a bath. 6/10.

Arlan bathes regularly, but I can't imagine him having a particularly strong smell. Asta will occasionally gift him some lightly scented soaps, though. If anything, he smells vaguely like Peppy. 5/10.

Gepard might get a little sweaty under all those layers, but he doesn't have a strong scent one way or the other. 4/10.

I Am Sniffing Respectfully

I just KNOW that the Astral Express has the nicest bathrooms in the universe. Dan Heng and Welt stay smelling FRESH. 3/10.

(Though Dan Heng has ended up smelling like bubblegum on a few occasions after borrowing March's shampoo...)

Misha smells like a sweet dream. I don't know what dreams smell like, but that's the only way to describe Misha's scent. Vaguely like cotton candy, perhaps. Ethereal/10.

Jing Yuan takes bubble baths with Mimi and you can NOT change my mind. I can totally picture him dozing off peacefully after a nice, warm bath. I-can-overlook-the-cat-hair/10.

We've seen Ratio take SO many baths at this point that I don't think you could find a single speck of dirt on that man's perfect body if you tried. How are his fingers not just permanently pruney? I hate him so much. 1/10.

I AM SNIFFING DISRESPECTFULLY

Argenti smells like roses and sunshine. 0/10 smelliness can I please bottle your sweat sir

Luocha has to smell great with all those flowers he summons. I would grind him down to make potpourri. Not sure about the coffin, though. -2/10.

And as for Aventurine? Cologne. SO much cologne. Whether this is a good or bad thing is up to you, but he certainly has A Smell. Subjective/10.

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flamingpudding · 3 days

Note

I now have ideas for Klarion is like Robin au

Batman was caught trying to make a contingency plan for Vlad after Tim said that he was like Ra al Ghul

Something happened were Dr. Fate need the help of Vlad and Klarion but all of them right now are and they're civilian identities so they can't help all but one

Cowboy Lassie

So Vlad takes the JLD puts Red Robin he's there to help cuz they need to get Nanda Parbat

Where are the Justice Dark League get to see Lassie in her cowgirl attire I'm talking standard western shirts boots jeans cowboy hat sunglasses I'm talking country

Along with the large horse made out of Lazarus pit be the biggest hater ever to her father as she literally explains that she hates him so much that she started a cult just to hate him

Vlad was just begging for her to help the only reason she does is cuz he brought up her ma

Dan was too busy to help because of the fact he's the head of the theater committee and had about it Danny has incredibly important meeting that he couldn't leave no matter what

And the rest of his kids definitely not going to help him

I should start feeling sorry for Vlad but this AU is just to funny to do so...

Good I love your ideas!

Also sorry if this is not up to how I usually write, I am kind of stuck in a bit of a writers block again thanks to my work....

Anyway! Here we go!

------------------------------

Red Robin, aka Tim, wasn't entirely sure how to go about this at first. Dr Fate had come by saying something about a threat for which they needed the help of 'Chaos' for a change and ranting about how 'Balance' was ignoring him currently because of something that apparently had happened a little while after their last encounter. Now normally this probably wouldn't be to much of a hurdle, if he hadn't tried to be a bit of a smart ass.

Because when he had heard about it Tim in the disguise of paying Dukes school a visit hat looked for Dan Master-Nightingale. Because obviously that was Klarion or rather the current Klarion and the 'Chaos' that could help them out, right? Yeah right...

Before Tim could even approach the other boy the teen had turned around sharply and glared with red eyes at him like he had personally offended him. Which he didn't by the way. Tim was pretty sure he hadn't insulted Klarion errr Dan recently.

"Screw off I got something to do here if we want the next school festival to be a hit. Tell you precious 'Order' to F off unless he apologises to Mom."

That had thrown Tim off a while lot. Because one, that meant Klarion knew who he was behind the Mask too and two, that brat was not going to be helpful or civil with him even out of masks. Not like any of the Klarions every had been but the current one definitely was the rudest among them. But that also meant no help from this agent of 'Chaos'.

Of course Tim wasn't one of the bats and birds for nothing. Bruce had contingency plans for Vlad since he had mentioned his suspicion of the man being like Ra's, so Tim when with the next possible option. If Dr. Fate meant with 'Balance' the Ghost King then they had a way of contacting them. Well not directly them but a contact that could, so he grabbed one of the plans, or part of it at least, and paid a certain millionaire a visit, as Red Robin of course.

It had taken a bit of back and forth, slight arguing in which the man was apparently very insistent in pointing out the time. Which fair it was close to midnight but it was important! In the end Tim had gotten the man to agree to lend them some help but after a phone call that apparently ended with the one on the other side hanging up on Masters themselves the man gave him a peeved look.

"We will have to change plans. Little Badger is not available at the moment and the other kids won't take my calls."

Tim didn't like the sound of that, not because of what Masters sort said about changing plans but the way he used the term 'Little Badger'. For now he would file that back into the back of his mind as his attention went to a map Masters pulled out and spread across his table. The man pointed at a specific place and Tim wanted to face palm. Because of course that man had more connection than just that questionable one between him, the Ghost King and the Klarions.

Masters was pointing at Nanda Parbat.

Good Bruce was going to love this. NOT.

So here he was now Red Robin, dragging a civilian Millionaire and a couple of the Justice League Dark members through the halls of Nanda Parbat as the man directed him where to go while dodging Assassins. For a brief moment he wondered why he hadn't dragged one of his siblings along before he remembered that at least two of them would be grating his nerves even thinner and Batman was busy helping the rest of the JLD containing whatever threat Dr. Fate found until he got the additional help.

A part of him was cursing as he dragged Masters by the cuff of his suit, (who the hell wears a suit when going into an Assassin cult base?!?!), to pull him out of harms way of another trained killer ready to strike the man down. Funnily enough these people all ignored Red Robins presence, like their leader didn't have a sick obsession with him and focused their strikes solely on Masters. That was good and bad, mostly bad but surprisingly the man was somewhat nimble for a civilian. Or there was even more to Masters than they were aware of which Tim also filed way into the back of his mind.

In the end after more or less fighting through half the hide out Masters lead him to a room, that oh great wonder who had thought it, contain the good damn Lazarus Pits! Red Robin wanted to hit that millionaire right now. He wasn't sure how the others present were taking this but he slowly was having enough of that Man.

Red Robin was really contemplating making good on his impulsive thought as a girl in full on cowboy style rose from the Pit waters.

They all, but Masters, blinked at her sudden and dramatic appearance. Masters took a step forward apparently wanting to speak to the girl and Tim only half heartedly because of his sense as hero tried to stop the man.

"Are you done with your cult nonsense, dear little Lassie?"

Red Robin in that moment felt a shiver go down his back when he saw the glare the girl directed at Vlad Masters as well as the room becoming several degrees colder. Mentally, this too, Tim filed back for later.

"No." Red Robin blinked under his mask as the girl snapped with her fingers and the Pit waters around her swirled a green horse appearing out of no where matching her style and he gaped even more the girl unapologetically pointed at Masers who apparently for once got a hint about dodging and ran away as the horse began chasing him.

A part of Red Robin felt like he had to do something to stop this and he caught one of the JLD members with them attempting to step in but the horse completely ignored them. The girl catching his look only waved them off dismissively. "Don't bother. Let Larus have some fun with him, before I sent the entire League after him again for stepping into my turf."

"Isn't Ra's Al Ghul...." He trailed off a little unsure how to proceed here.

"Oh he is sort of the Leader of my merry band of followers of hatred." Red Robin was about to speak again but didn't get a chance as the girl started to ramble on about the logistics of hating someone so much that you raise a cult just for that and the cult just so happens to still have a goal of its own but also are brainwashed to attack on side whenever Vlad Master is involved.

No Red Robin wasn't getting worried. Some of these statements definitely weren't worrying. That the League of Assassins originally was cult to hate just one man in particular was not a shocking revelation. Nor that the Lazarus Pits apparently were alive and also had a hate for Masters. Nor that this girl, Lassie apparently also was a daughter of the Ghost King. And it was definitely not worrying that she apologised for what her cult had done to her family and asked that maybe his older brother should see Vlad Master anytime soon.

Okay everything about that was worrying.

But for now they needed help with a bigger problem. But Red Robin did make a note of breaking back in into Nanda Parbat to have a enlightening talk with Lassie at a later time.

Thankfully after having listened to her rand and mentioning the Ghost King to the girl she did agree to help them. So original goal reached... but several new questions acquired...

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multiversefanfics · 3 days

Text

You left

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader(Past relationship)- Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader(not a full on relationship but friends with benefits type thing with hidden feelings?) Warning: SMUT 18+‼️Oral (F receiving p in v) ,cussing, mention of sex, angst Summary: After Thanos snapped half of humanity out of existence, then fighting like hell to get them back just for him to leave anyway. A/N: It still irritates me that Steve left everyone behind for Peggy, this fic is for people who are also irritated about Steve leaving, but that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy it too. this is a short one, well my opinion of short😂 Past in Italics

"Steve, you promised. You told me there was nothing to worry about and that you loved me and only me." He sighed and placed his hand on your shoulder "I do love you, but I love her too. I can't just ignore it; she is the love of my life." By now tears were streaming down your face, you couldn't believe what you were hearing you thought Steve was someone you could trust. You took a step back, staring deep into his eyes. "Steve..." Was all you could manage to get out between sobs, and you shrugged his hand off your shoulder "I can't believe you right now, after everything you are willing to just throw away 6 years together." Steve rubbed his face and when he removed his hands you could see his facial expression was different "I have to! When I saw her again, it brought back everything I missed out on.” His sudden change of volume made you flinch, he apologized and told you he loved you, but his words meant nothing because he still went back to Peggy leaving you behind to try and move on while he lived out his dream.

You and Steve were in love, even though in the back of your mind the same name kept popping up Peggy Carter. Although he tells you every chance, he can that he loves you and only you, you can’t help but feel like a consolation prize. You loved Steve he was your favorite person in the world, you would be lost without him, but you don't know if he felt the same way about you sometimes. He told you over and over that he loved you and he would never do anything to hurt you, and then he did it. He left. He left you to go back to Peggy. After all the fighting to bring everyone back, all the moments you shared, everything. He just left like it was nothing. It took a while for you to move on and find your happiness, it wasn't easy, but you did it and you were successful. Something unexpected happened that caused you to rethink everything.

It's been 3 years since Steve left and you're single and still not ready to mingle and that's fine no one is rushing, and you're not really interested in anyone, you're just having some fun. You and Bucky were sitting on the couch, your legs over his lap while he rubbed your calf after you pretended to have a cramp "Is your cramp gone?" You giggled a bit "I never had a cramp I just wanted you to rub my legs" Bucky groaned and smacked your shin, leaning back and looking at the TV. "Why did you stop" You whined rubbing your leg against his hand "Because you tricked me" He looked over at you while you made puppy dog eyes at him, he rolled his eyes and started rubbing your legs again, you smiled to yourself and started watching TV again. Sam strolled into the living room, plopping down beside you "Well aren't you two cozy" You hit him with a pillow not taking your eyes off the screen "Why don't you mind your business." Bucky retorted earning a deep chuckle from Sam "It's cute that's all." You saw Sam shift awkwardly out of the corner of your eye, you sat up and looked at him "What's wrong?" Sam looked over at you and raised an eyebrow "What are you talking about?" You studied his face "You never adjust yourself. unless you're nervous about something. Out with it."

Sam sighed and just as he was about to answer you heard the front door open, everyone turned their attention to the door, and in walks Steve. You sat there frozen unable to utter a single word, Bucky got up and did one of those man hugs with him and Sam followed suit, while you sat there still frozen trying to figure out if he was real or if you were dreaming. It was real, no matter how many times you told yourself it wasn’t. He was standing right in front of you staring deep into your eyes waiting for you to say something. Anything. You cleared your throat and stood up joining the group “Hi...” Steve smiled at you, God you missed that smile, but then you remembered that smile belonged to Peggy. "Hey, Y/N how are you?" Is he really going to pretend that everything is, okay? Like he didn’t just leave you behind “I’m good, how are you here?” He sighed and looked around “Why don’t we sit down, and I can explain.”

Everyone nodded and went to sit on the couch, you sat closest to Bucky laying your head on his shoulder, you weren't doing it to spite Steve or anything, Bucky was your only source of comfort, but you could see in Steve's eyes he didn't like that. His best friend and his ex-girlfriend? Together? The thing is you guys weren't really together you two just leaned on each other when one of you needed it, or when aggression or stress needed to be released. Maybe you had feelings for Bucky but never expressed them.

Steve took a deep breath trying to compose himself "Stark visited me and said there was much to be done here so, he and Scott pulled me back, and I'm here to help." Bucky felt you tense up and although he knew what he was about to do would rub Steve the wrong way, he needed to comfort you instead of having to deal with Steve's feelings when he was the one who left. He rested his hand on your knee rubbing his thumb over your kneecap, it was hard for Steve to concentrate let alone talk so he cut it short "I'm here to stay and help with whatever you guys need help with." Everyone nodded and started to go their separate ways. "Hey, Y/N can I speak with you?" You looked back at Steve and nodded "Sure, what's up?" You stood in front of Steve who was awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck "So are you and Bucky... Like together?" You shook your head "No, but when you left, he was the only one there for me and provided comfort when I needed it. We weren't trying to hurt you earlier; he just knew I was tense and tried to calm me down."

Steve crossed his arms over his chest and took a deep breath "Do you have feelings for him?" You were taken aback, why is he asking these questions, was he judging you for how you repaired yourself? "I don't think that's any of your business anymore." You rolled your eyes and went to walk away. “Wait, Y/N there’s more I need to tell you. I figured it would be easier coming from me.” You turned to face him again, he took a deep breath. You’ve never seen Steve so nervous before “Peggy is here too.” Your breath hitched and you nodded slowly “Is that all?” He nodded and you walked away. You wish you could be happy for him but he left you behind. ‘He left’ kept echoing in your head

You and Bucky were lying on your bed, his head lying between your legs on top of your stomach, you aimlessly played with his hair while he talked about something Sam did, you weren't really paying attention you were too busy thinking about the questions Steve was asking. "So, I was thinking of shaving my head and getting a skull tattoo." Your head snapped in his direction "What?!" He chuckled "What's on your mind?" You sighed and stared at the ceiling "Is it Steve?" You heard the sadness in his voice, it wasn't what he thought, you didn't want to get back with Steve it was just the questions he asked. You took a deep breath "It's not that I want to get back with him, he was just asking questions about us and asked if I had feelings for you." Bucky turned on his side and looked up at you "And you told him that it was none of his business, right?"

You nodded and looked down at him "Does he know we had sex?" You shook your head and sat up "No, I didn't tell him we had sex I didn't think he would want to hear 'Hey Steve, I'm having sex with your best friend, welcome back.' Kinda sounds a little messed up." Bucky let out a hearty laugh "You got a point." Bucky looked down between your legs then back at you “Speaking of sex.” He leaned down and gently kissed your thigh, you looked down at Bucky as he left several soft kisses up and down your thighs. You shutter under his touch “Bucky, is now really a good time?” He dragged the tip of his tongue down the inside of your thigh not breaking eye contact with you. “If you want, I’ll stop.” You wanted nothing more than for him to devour you and help you relieve your stress.

You bit your bottom lip and nodded slightly at him; he pulled your underwear to the side and instantly latched onto your clit sucking gently. Over the years Bucky learned what your body wanted, how you wanted, and especially what drove you crazy and that was his tongue. To him, it was just a tongue but to you, it was the best thing in the world. Bucky moaned against your skin sending vibrations straight to your clit, which made you moan out his name. Bucky knew the effect he had on you and used it to his advantage. Your fingers found their way to his hair tugging slightly as he swirled his tongue all around your throbbing wet pussy, you arched your back and spread your legs farther to give him more access. You felt your orgasm creeping up, you began rolling your hips against his face “B-Buck, I’m close.” As soon as he heard those words he latched onto your clit this time sucking a little harder than before, you cried out in pleasure before releasing all of your juices onto his face.

You laid there breathless as he sucked up all the juice until every last drop was gone. “Y/N, you okay?” You lazily nodded and watched as he crawled up beside you, you kicked off your underwear and got on your knees while pulling his boxers down, you wanted nothing more than to climb on top and feel his dick stretch you out. You watched his dick bounce back from his waistband, you licked your lips and took his dick in your hand slowly pumping up and down. As much as you love to tease him you really didn’t want to waste any time, you took his entire length in your mouth, choking a bit until you started to breathe through your nose, you bobbed your head up and down earning a low growl from Bucky, you looked up and saw him watching you. You smirked and pulled back swirling your tongue around his tip.

Bucky reached down and grabbed you by the throat pulling you up to his face so he could kiss you, there was something different about the kiss but you didn’t care you kissed him back. You reached down between his legs and slowly sat down on his dick, as soon as it entered he flipped you on your back and started thrusting roughly into you. Bucky was always rough with you and you loved every minute of it mainly because it was him. His hand still on your throat, he used his vibranium hand to make small circles on your clit, this sent you into overdrive. “B-Bucky” You managed to moan out between gasps, Bucky’s thrusts got sloppier and slower as he tried not to cum so fast, he wanted to savor the moment, just then there was a knock at the door “Uh, just a minute.”

But they didn’t listen and walked in anyway. It was Steve “Buck, I have to- Woah, uh I’m sorry… Y/N?” You mentally smacked yourself putting your hands over your face, mumbling ‘fuck’. Bucky looked down at you then back at Steve “Uh, Steve, could you give me a minute.” Steve was so angry that it literally looked like steam was coming out of his ears, he nodded and slammed the door behind him, Bucky looked down at you “So, where were we?” You rolled your eyes and pushed him off of you “Are you kidding me right now? We just got caught by your best friend and my ex. Do you not realize how that looks?” Bucky stood up putting sweatpants on “It looks like his ex girlfriend moved on after he left her for someone else.” As much as the comment hurt he was right. Steve has no right to be mad when he left you, you sighed and mumbled “You’re right…” Bucky looked at you wide eyed “I’m what?” A smile spread across your lips “I’m not saying it again.”

You felt so bad but at the same time, he left you and he has Peggy, he has no right to be mad. You finished getting dressed and headed to meet Bucky and Sam in the living room, you stopped in your tracks when you heard Sam tell them to calm down “Calm down? I just walked in on Bucky and Y/N having sex!” You peeked your head around the corner and saw Steve pacing in front of Bucky, fuming. “You can’t be mad at how she decided to repair what you broke.” Steve stopped in his tracks and looked at Bucky “What I broke? You are my best friend!” You don’t have to see Bucky’s face to know how red it was “You left us! You went back for Peggy you didn’t think about your ‘best friend’ or ‘girlfriend’ when you decided to go back to her.” You leaned your back against the wall sighing quietly maybe it was time to defend yourself. “Hi, you must be Y/N” You flinched and looked at where the voice was coming from and there she was, Peggy Carter.

She was even more gorgeous than you imagined, more than the picture Steve carried around when you two were together “Uh, yeah hi I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.” She smiled sweetly at you and shook your hand “What are they yelling about?” You pointed to yourself “Steve walked in on Bucky and I being… intimate” She cocked her head and raised an eyebrow “Let’s go be a part of this conversation, shall we.” You nodded and walked into the living room with her. Steve’s eyes widened as you both came around the couch and sat on it “Please, gentlemen continue. Pretend like we’re not even here.” You couldn’t tell if she was pissed off or not her calm tone threw you off. You looked at Bucky and frowned, he leaned over and whispered in your ear “It’s okay, doll.” You heard Steve scoff which caused everyone to look at him “I can’t believe you two.” Peggy chuckled and looked Steve in his eyes "I can't believe you, why do you care what she does?" The next words out of Steve's mouth shocked everyone.

"Because I am still in love with her!"

Main Masterlist - Steve Rogers Masterlist - Bucky Barnes Masterlist

A/N: I dont know if there will be a part 2. I haven't thought that far yet but, I hope you like it. feedback is much appreciated if anyone wants to be tagged in future fics please message me or leave and ask on what you want to be tagged in or if you want to be tagged in everything.

Tags: @megamindsecretlair @kandis-mom

Divider credit: @firefly-graphics

#avengers #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x you #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fic

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jakesangel · 3 days

Text

jealous jake ꣑୧

as a scorpion man, jake would often be jealous to you, his possessiveness showing up when the members look at you a little too much for his liking or at random men on the street. he can act cocky when he can trust the other man, meaning his member but if he doesn't know him, there would be a hint of insecurity in him.

as you guys went shopping, jake will always be following you like the puppy he is, holding the clothes you want to try or just your hand bag. you could send him to change one piece of clothing size, he would automatically agree and go straight to wear he should go without forgetting to kiss your temple. but when he sees you chatting with another man, he would come back fast to you. hi baby, i found your size, he'd say staring at the unknown man in front of you, who is this ? he would then add with faux honesty. and even if you reassure him in telling him you were telling the unknown man that you have a boyfriend but that wouldn't stop his scorpio feelings to come out, so she told you she has a boyfriend and you're still here ? finally showing his true color. as the other man leaves you guys be he would finally look back at you w a pout and whine that's why i can't let you alone a single second out or you're too pretty to stay alone baby, he would say as he hugs you. after that incidence, he wouldn't let you alone for a second nor his small pout would go away : he doesn't know how to ask for reassurance n his body can't help but show it. so if you tell him what he needs to hear, in an other shop, he would abruptly ask you baby, you love me and only me right ? or you'll never leave me, right ?

as you come at the door unnoticed to surprise jake, his member heesung open you the door with a welcoming hug. as you guys start to chat, jakes wouldn't miss to hear your voice, n would come out of his bedroom, your sudden venue making his imaginary tail waving, only seeing you so happily greet his fellow member w a hug. usually he wouldn't mind as he loves you also because you're nice n sweet but as you are currently dressed up specially for him, wearing his fav mini skirt w a more or less revealing top, he can't help but question why would ou let another man touch you that way. he would be even more baffled as he see you interact w him instead of coming straight to him. hi babe, he would say coming close to you, one hand on your waist the other on holding your cheek before finally kissing you deeply wanting to disgust heesung away from the both of you. he would even out the tongue in it, kissing you for minutes if that means he will leave you alone. as the public is finally gone, he wouldn't ask your question wether on why he is suddenly kissing you like this, but would lead you the his room. why were you hugging him ? or what were you doing ? would be asked his jealousy barely hidden. you'd obviously finally get why he is being like this, as it's not the first time jake likes to claim you in front of other people, and if you tease him about it, he'd act obvious jealous ? me ? pfft no, why would i be jealous for. and he would take him few minutes for him to admit, yes i am jealous, so horribly jealous, he would finally admit coming closer to you, you know i cant have all of these people all over you, specially when you look like that baby, he would murmur, his hands coming to your waist strongly pulling you closer to him. and i don't like sharing, he'd add as he would bend down to your height so what if i'm jealous, you're mine, he would barely whisper right in top of your lips before kissing you again.

notes : who else want jake to claim them @___@

@imaluckygirl @luvj4key @stwrjvke @amouriu @neos127 @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby @jaeyunpinkyring @pockettwinzz @jwsdoll @heeheeswifey @sjylouvre @txnwvc @oopshee

#enhablr #jake soft hours #sim jake fluff #sim jaeyun fluff #sim jake #sim jaeyun #jake sim #jake sim x reader #jake fluff #jake x reader #jake headcanons #enhypen jake fluff #jake sim x y/n #jake x y/n #enha fluff #enhypen fluff #jake enhypen #enhypen

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nnight-dances · 2 days

Text

EVERYTHING

PAIRING: yoon jeonghan x f!reader (ft. wonbin)

GENRE: angst, fluff toward the end

TROPES: established relationship, model!jeonghan, singer-songwriter!reader, jealousy, paparazzi interference and rumors, and so on.

NOTE: this was hard to write so bear with me and let me know if there's anything that absolutely sucks about this lol... i love jeonghan but he's so hard to write (maybe it's because i'm the most not normal about him)... anyway this plot is kinda inspired by a real life fight i had with a friend who i have ambiguous feelings so do with that what u will :) enjoy!!!!

"thanks, love," jeonghan mumbles into your cheek when you hand him the wallet he'd forgotten at home this morning. even in the dim moody lighting of the room, you can see he's genuinely happy to see you when he pecks your cheek. you smile and press your hand into his, "how bad was today?"

he hums, "not too bad if i don't think about it too hard."

it's not out of the ordinary for a successful model like jeonghan to have the mind-numbing schedule he has but you can't help hurting for him anyway. "i'm sorry, babe," you squeeze his fingers and he nods in acknowledgement. he's too tired to say much most days so you've gotten accustomed to interpreting his silences.

you were part of a band known for its jazzy music and you were its lead singer and song-writer, which meant it couldn't be helped that you had written more than a few love songs dedicated to yoon jeonghan, your lover of over two years now. in that time, you'd found a good beat with jeonghan, spending a good four months with both your heads' deep in work and only the nighttime spent in each other's arms. sometimes, jeonghan's international presence meant a few weeks of not even that. and as your band got bigger, you took on tours that only took you further from jeonghan. but after a rocky summer, came the breeze of fall.

fall meant downtime for both your jobs, a time you could easily retreat and while the rest of the world turned vacation mode off, you would travel with jeonghan, whether it be across the world or just along his skin on a rainy weekend. it was easy with him, even when it wasn't.

but recently, you'd found yourself wondering if it really was that easy still. tonight you're performing at this club, a local presence known for its hosting of musical influences, and jeonghan managed to escape his impossible day to watch you. you should feel loved, grateful for him, but when it's your turn to perform, you feel yourself drift away from him.

onstage, even as you introduce yourself and your band members, your eyes are on him. but he seems so far away. he watches you, not a smile on his face, just familiarity. as if he'd memorized all that you had to say, as if this was another box to tick on his long day. you clear your throat to steady your mind and open the first song, "this one's called heavy." it was an old song, perhaps one you'd only performed before you met jeonghan. which would explain how hopeless the melody was, how uncertain your voice got throughout, and scarily enough, how much you found yourself relating to it now, so many years later.

after the song's over, you glance at jeonghan and he seems as stoic as ever, clapping in encouragement but without any mirth. you sigh, "woah, sorry to bring the mood down like that," you chuckle a little when the crowd laughs, "um, anyway, this next one's much happier, i promise. it's called loverboy… after my one and only, well, boy." you laugh again and spot jeonghan smile, too, all the way at the bar and your heart thaws a little, allowing you to get through the song without thinking again about how cold it felt in the room.

you get through the next two songs without a hitch, perhaps because you let yourself go on autopilot mode and restrict yourself from even looking at jeonghan for your own sake, and come down with a heavy sigh. your bandmate, yves, touches you on the shoulder with a frown, "you good, y/n?" you nod, "yeah… i'm just tired. or something." she pats you on the head, "don't think too hard about things, dove. just let go. or something." you laugh at her witty piece of advice and thank her as you head for jeonghan, naturally.

he wraps you in his arms when you find him, plenty kisses on your neck, "my girl did so well."

you let out an uneasy groan, "i don't know, han, i feel like i was lame."

jeonghan pulls away with a frown, "no, you weren't. you were amazing. although that first song caught me off guard. it's been a while since you performed it."

"yeah… it was my decision but it felt right," you shrug. jeonghan's eyes take on a gravity you don't like when you say that so you avert your gaze, "but more importantly, when can we go home so i can get out of this dress and sleep?"

a year ago, jeonghan would've gone, "i'll help you take it off right now, love," but now he agrees solemnly, "i think we go as soon as everyone's focused on the next set."

–

you know it's stupid, you do, to dwell over the details of your relationship this obsessively. but honestly, once you start there's just so much to pick at. to start, you felt more distant from jeonghan than ever, as if there was something unsaid in your way just keeping you from getting back close to him. and you hate it when things go unsaid. but you also knew jeonghan didn't care for spelling every little thing out, he could settle for a little discomfort till ignoring it was enough to make it go away.

but that was just it, you couldn't take it anymore. you'd had a few fights with jeonghan in the past and they'd all come down to the fundamental differences in your natures. you liked for everything to be said and thought out, especially if either of you felt hurt or unheard. jeonghan liked silence, just simple gestures speaking a million words and routines in place to reaffirm your love. you knew it was better his way, simpler and easier, but you'd lived his way and now, you find yourself suffocating in the same bed as him.

you stir away from him, rolling off the bed and onto your feet, and make your way to your makeshift studio, closing the door off incase jeonghan gets curious. you can just say you were working on a new song. once in, you throw yourself against a bean bag, head heavy in hands.

"god, this is stupid," you mumble as the tears roll out. you spiral almost immediately, thinking back to everything that went wrong in the past few months. for one, jeonghan was away for your 25th birthday, for the whole week, and though you'd spent it surrounded by your friends and his apologetic gifts, you couldn't talk the bitterness away. then, he'd been mad at you when you told him your tour started during the week he had off, calling you a "workaholic" because you'd rather work than go with him on the beach trip he'd planned. it was unfair, he'd admitted later, but not after you'd spent the whole week of your tour crying yourself to sleep.

to add to it all, were the recent rumors in the news about jeonghan's brand new 'mistress', a japanese model called nana. even before the first article came out, he'd called you outright, telling you his agency had caught a reporter in japan pestering nana if she was anything to jeonghan. that had only dullled the pain you felt when you read it, pictures of jeonghan and nana posing for a cover shoot. and it wasn't the first time jeonghan had looked absolutely stunning beside another person, far better than you'd looked with him in all the paparazzi snaps that circulated the net when questioning if you were still in the running for the attractive model.

it wasn't the first time and yet, thanks to your already strained relationship, you felt more hurt than usual. this was also the longest scandal yet, ongoing past four weeks, perhaps because of jeonghan's frequent visits to japan. it really got you thinking how there were so many reasons for the two of them to be in the same room.

–

jeonghan, alone in your shared bed, inevitably wakes up, confused when he doesn't feel you. "y/n?" he calls out, hoping you might just be using the washroom, but the lights are off and there's no sound in the bedroom. "my love?" he calls out louder, propping himself up on his elbows. when he hears no response, he falls onto his back with a weary sigh.

there was something up with you. you'd been acting… distant since the past two weeks. you'd pull away from his kisses a few beats too soon and wake up long before you had to. he wondered if he should ask you because he knows that's what you'd want but whenever he got to sit down next to in full seriousness, he'd go weak, missing your presence when he was away.

he pulls out his phone, skimming throught the texts that had accumulated over the few hours he was asleep. there's a few from nana, the model he was rumored to be having an affair with.

nana: another stupid article :(

jeonghan sighs at the link she'd forwarded him. in full honesty, he'd all but developed a good friendship with nana while in japan, where he'd been previously lost without a good guide telling him where to go. given all his staff was korean, they could only be as useful as a google search. nana, however, had taken up to herself to show him the local spots, the shopping district where he'd been able to secure gifts for you, anticipating your needs before you'd known them.

you know all this, of course. jeonghan had offered to break all ties with nana if it bothered you but you'd been insistent that he keep his relationship with her, especially when it kept him sane abroad.

you'd said you were fine, so how come you weren't next to him, mumbling sweet nothings into his chest like you always loved to? when you couldn't sleep, you would wake him up with your persistent kisses, apologizing when he did finally come to, but then talking about everything in the world from your outfit tomorrow to your plans in the next five years.

"are we…" you'd started one night but then stopped, going hot and hiding your face into the pillow.

"are we what, love?" jeonghan pried you off the pillow and onto his arm, pushing his face close to yours so you couldn't run.

"are we serious, han?" you finally asked, quietly. "you know, like, long-term serious?"

"hmm, let me think… i don't know we've only been dating for 20 months so i wouldn't get your hopes–"

you hit his chest with a muffled giggle, "you know what i meant!"

"i don't, really?"

you avert your gaze, "are we ever gonna, you know, be married? have kids? that kind of thing…"

jeonghan's heartbeat had sped up despite all his nonchalant facades and his face disclosed his flustered state causing you to go redder. "it's- forget about it if it's not something you've thought about–"

"of course i've thought about marrying you, doll," jeonghan asserts, arm around your waist to stop you from flailing around, his fingers draw circles on your exposed stomach. "of course i want to be committed to you for life, y/n. and don't even get me started on kids. i know it doesn't seem like it because i'm such a cool guy but i'm crazy for kids–"

"no, it's pretty obvious, you basically lose your head everytime we see a couple with a newborn baby–"

"okay, well, there you have it. i want kids with you, y/n."

you mull over his words in silence for a moment and then, "not now though, right?" you say, "we're both too succesful in our careers to… start a home."

jeonghan palms your cheek lovingly, "i think what we have right now is already home. but you're right, i think we ought to wait some more time. till it feels right."

till it feels right, he'd told you and now he kind of regrets it. he should've asked you to marry you right there so you'd never have a reason to doubt your relationship ever again. but again, that too was just a dream.

–

jeonghan was off to japan for a week. yet again, you think, holding your tears back on a sunday afternoon when you wake up to a resounding silence in your home. you need to find a way to make things right, you know. you need to talk to jeonghan but honestly, your head hurts so much you'd rather just forget all about him.

that's why you find yourself crashing at yves' place for the next few days, her house known to be a hub for lost souls and good music. you spend your afternoons working on new music, inspired by your new surroundings, writing about everything but jeonghan and as soon as it hit seven, you'd be helping yourself to martinis, thanks to yves' well-equipped bar.

you were amid making yourself a drink while yves went over some notes and recordings you'd made this afternoon when she sat up with a weird look in her eyes. "y/n?"

"what is it? is it horrible?"

"no, it's not that. it's just… this feels like a different person," she comments, finger scrolling through your lyrics. "like a younger version of you? it has the same lonely vibe to it. i'm a fan of it to be honest, but i'm just wondering… is everything good?"

you chuckle, "yves, you ought to have known that if i'm here for an extended period of time, nothing is good… but i appreciatey you asking. i'll be fine, eventually."

your friend is lost in thought for a while and you sip your drink when her phone pings with a message. she reads it and turns to you with a glint in her eye.

"so… does that mean you'll go clubbing with me tonight?"

–

if you were gonna embrace a younger self, you might as well do it all, you thought, putting on a dress you'd loaned from yves. it was shorter than anything you'd worn recently and a light pink you never naturally gravitated towards. but you had to admit, it did look quite good on your figure when you looked in the mirror. you embellished your eyes with glitter, lining your eyes with mascara and a thin wing at the ends.

the club itself is nicer than you'd expected and you're glad you'd dressed up as much as you did, pursing your lips to make sure the lip gloss you'd applied was still intact. yves pulls you to a table with her friends, some of them mutual to you, others complete strangers to you. either way, they're all fun, welcoming you without a question.

one of the familiar faces is wonbin from a contemporary band known for its unique take on house music. he immediately materializes by your side when you've downed your first shot of the night, large grin overtaking his face. "you're here?"

you tilt your head at his question, "i am! it's weird, isn't it?"

"a little," he shrugs, "you stopped coming out with us after you got swept up with that pretty model boy of yours."

you grow a little uneasy at the mention of jeonghan's name, "yeah, well, i thought it would be good for my music if i reconnected to my past a little. let myself live a little."

wonbin smiles, "that's nice, i love that. and to that," he brings out two more shots, handing you one, "cheers!" you hesitate for a moment but then catch yves looking at you encouragingly, and clink glasses with him, downing the drink in a go.

that's all it really takes for you to let go. your body finds the music's rhythm faster than anyone else in the group so you take to the dance floor, and wonbin follows you, telling yves he'd look out for you. not that you need it.

it's been a few songs that you've been dancing around, with wonbin's body getting closer to you with each time. you blink when his hand is at your waist, and you clear your throat, "i'm gonna go get some water!" wonbin grabs a hold of your wrist, "i'll come with!"

it's a little uncomfortable, the way he's following you around, but you reassure yourself it was only for good intentions. a few more songs you keep yourself close to yves and her friends, feeling wonbin's presence heavily on your shoulder, but then you're a few more shots in and it doesn't really matter.

it's only when you return from the bathroom when things go awry. it starts with your phone blowing up with texts and a call from jeonghan. in the loud music of the club, you can barely think, let alone talk to your boyfriend who you'd been ignoring for a week so you decline. when you make back to your table, your phone goes off again. jeonghan again.

before you can register how odd it is of him to double-call you without good reason, wonbin's pulling you over next to him. you sit with a groan, "wonbin, i need to take this call–"

"y/n, you need to look at this. it's about jeonghan and that japanese model–"

yves cuts wonbin, "wonbin, get the fuck off her!" she tries to pry his arm off you but you find yourself unmoving when you catch jeonghan's figure on screen. he's laughing next to someone, a girl– oh, it's nana. she leans in close, a little too close, and you're not sure if it's your spinning head, but she keeps on getting closer, close until her lips are on jeonghan's and–

"i feel sick," you exclaim suddenly, clutching your stomach. wonbin's strong arms are around you in a moment and yves can't fight him off when he leads you through to crowd, weaving through the impossibly long line to the bathrooms. despite everything, you're thankful for him when he holds your hair up when you throw your guts up, tears mixing with the alcohol in your system.

when you're done, you ask yves if she can take you home and she's already ready with your bag over her shoulder.

"y/n, wait!" wonbin stops you, hand on your elbow, "can i talk to you for a sec–"

"wonbin, please, you've done enough, she needs to go home–"

"go home to what exactly?" he questions and you have to physically restrain yourself from falling to your knees with the sobs that wreck your body, "i'm here for you, y/n, if you ever need–"

down in your bones you know jeonghan better than anyone, know he would never be the kind to cheat on you, to ever leave you for the wolves like this. but honestly, the news ring out louder than anything in your head. "yoon jeonghan with ito nana, confirmed? was his little singer-songwriter girlfriend just a joke?"

that's how you feel right now. little. and like a joke. you simply nod at wonbin and turn around to leave the club before the music can suffocate you any more.

"i'm sorry, y/n, i didn't think he'd act up like that–"

"it's okay, yves, you didn't do anything," you tell her and look down at your phone at the photo of jeonghan that shows up every time he calls you. it was one you'd taken on your very first dates, of him sitting prettily across the table with a chopstick in each hand.

"you should talk to him, y/n," yves pats your back, "you don't have to go back to him but you have to hear him out, right?"

you sigh, "you're right."

you accept the call as yves leads you to a silent corner and gives you some space as she goes off for a smoke. you hold your breath when you hear jeonghan's voice. he sounds distraught.

"y/n? love?"

all you can do is sigh to delay your tears. "hey," you say coarsely and jeonghan's losing his mind.

"baby, can you stay where you are? i'm on my way, okay? i… i don't know what you've seen but you know it's not the truth. okay? just," you hear him run into someone and apologize. was he running to you? that would be crazy. "just let me talk to you."

you take a deep breath, "i'm waiting here."

you don't question how he found you, it's likely your location on life360, a feature you'd added a year into your relationship just to know where the other was. just in case.

you hadn't opened the app in a while, there hadn't been a reason. even if you knew where he was, he'd be far enough that it didn't mean enough.

it takes a few more minutes before you hear jeonghan's voice on the sidewalk outside the club. he's in a white shirt that's been untucked from his pants. he's disheveled, and you can only wonder why.

"y/n," he says, out of breath, sweat beading his forehead.

"did you run here?"

"the car was stuck in the traffic so i told my driver to catch up," he inhales deeply, "i had to see you."

"and why is that exactly?"

jeonghan sighs, "love, i think we both know why. that clip of nana kissing me probably found you by now?"

you look at your feet, "i saw it. i thought you guys were just friends?" you pause and before jeonghan can speak, you continue, "or was that just a lie silly little me believed?"

jeonghan's hands find your shoulders, "there is absolutely nothing between me and her. i thought my platonic feelings were reciprocated because we'd been normal for so long. but then today, she… she kissed me and i realized that was me being stupid."

"of course she was into you," you mumble.

"i'm sorry, i really am. not just for this but for the past few weeks. or more than at. i don't know how long it's been but i feel like i haven't been putting you first."

"jeonghan, you have to know that it just sounds like you're overcompensating so i forget about the nana stuff."

"there is no nana stuff," he tells you, "and if you must know, i was always planning to come home a few days earlier. you've been so cold lately and i thought i could surprise you. but then you stopped responding to my texts and i found out through your bandmates you hadn't been home in a week. i got worried and in my head."

"i admit, i let nana distract me, but as nothing more than a friend. because when you're gone, i also lose my closest friend. i have no one but you to talk to you, love, i can't trust anyone, not after today. and i'm so sorry that i don't talk to you more, that i don't address problems as they come up."

you feel weaker than ever, head still down as tears roll down. "y/n? are you crying? baby, look at me, please."

"han, i really don't know what to do anymore," you finally break out, letting him take you into his arms, "i've been so miserable without you. i… i can't do it anymore." you take a deep breath to gather your thoughts.

"you're so good at accepting changes and moving on from little fights. but i'm crazy. i get stuck in a spiral for days over the little things and after your scandal started, i… i can't help but think they're right."

you pull away to look jeonghan in the eyes, "maybe i'm not the right one–"

"no," jeonghan cuts you off with a hiss that surprises both of you, "i will not have you think the stupid crap they're writing in the news, okay? you're my love, y/n, you're my everything. seriously, did you not hear me? i don't care about anyone else like i care about you. god, i'm stupid for not having married you when i had the chance."

"han, i don't know, i'm so tired," you rest your head against his. "can we go home for now?"

later that night, you sit side by side with jeonghan on your side of the bed. you've taken your shoes off but not your dress. "is that a new dress?" he asks lowly.

"i borrowed it from yves," you reply, adjusting the straps to sit right, "does it look fine?"

you feel like you're in a liminal space with jeonghan right now. you haven't broken up but you're not sure if everything's back to normal just yet. funnily, it feels like the first few months of getting to know him. he has the same boyish nervousness about him as his hand reaches out to brush your hair out of your face.

"you look so good i'm mad i didn't buy you this dress," he says, "or that i didn't get to dance with you in it."

you sniff, "i wish you'd been there tonight." and after a moment, "i wish we weren't so different."

and then again, "i wish we were the same person so i could know your thoughts inside and out without having to bother you."

"it's not a bother, i'm just bad at it," jeonghan says, "and i don't wish we were the same person. because i love how different we are. i have so much fun with you, learning your ways and fighting with you."

"fighting is fun?" you ridicule him.

"only in retrospect, of course. i never want to see you look as hurt as you did tonight."

he reaches out for your hand and you let him, intertwining your fingers. he places your joined hands against his lips and then back into his lap. "i love you, y/n. i love you more than everything."

"i thought i was everything?" you ask through a half-concealed giggle.

"don't tease me when i'm being vulnerable, love," he whines, "i'm serious. i'm sorry for making you feel so ignored all this while. it was never my intention. everything i did, i did because i'm stupid and still learning. but i always want to be with you. i want to spend everyday with you."

"i love you too, han," you kiss his shoulder, "i'm sorry, too, for being so closed off. you don't have to feel so bad, it was partially my fault too."

jeonghan stands up, pulling you up after him. before you can ask him what's wrong, he hugs you tight, breath soft on your exposed back. your arms find his waist, rubbing his back in a reminder of how much you love him. slowly, you're not sure who starts it, you both start swaying to no song in particular, just to the rhythm of your heartbeats. he twirls you around with a smile and kisses your forehead.

"on that note, my love," jeonghan stills you, tiptoeing across the room to his bag, ruffling through before finding what he was looking for. it's only when he gets on a knee that you comprehend what's happening, "i know i haven't been the most promising husband material but i promise, it will only get better from here. i've made the mistake of not doing this earlier and i can't wait to make you mine forever. so, y/n, will you marry me?"

with that, he opens the black box in his hands, revealing the precious diamond ring inside.

you've never fallen to your knees faster, taking his hands in yours, "yes, of course, i'll marry you, han! i–" you fall short of words when you look at the ring in his hands, "i had no idea you were planning on– god, i'm– i love you, han."

"part of the reason i wanted to come back faster was to do this," he tells you softly, slipping the ring onto your finger, "to finally propose to you."

"finally?" you question, sensing some hidden meaning behind his words.

"well, i have had this ring for a year now. i considered getting a newer model but this one was just too gorgeous." he takes your left hand in his, "and it looks prettier on you than i could have ever imagined."

"a year?" you ask in disbelief, "han! you– why didn't you tell me?" you feel stupid really, knowing how long he'd planned on marrying you for real. his love for you looms over you and you can't help but feel lightheaded.

"because i didn't think it was the right time yet. i was wrong about that, of course. any time is right with you. i just needed to make you mine."

you throw your arms around him, tearing up again, "yoon jeonghan, god, you make me crazy."

"so is that a good crazy, as in you'll write happy love songs about me again or… as in i make you want to scream and shout?"

"honestly, a bit of both," you laugh against his shoulder, "and about the happy love songs… i think you should know but i wrote some really depressing songs while you were away. yves loves them so they'll end up on the next album but i know you don't necessarily like them so–"

"what are you talking about? i love all of your songs."

"han," you kiss his cheek with a smile, "you don't have to lie. i know you feel weird about them. and that's okay. but i hope you know, i'm in a different space when i write those, and i will continue to write those. but they don't reflect the truth in any way, okay?"

he narrows his eyes, his lips pouty, "you mean to say i'm not good enough for you to make you happy for the rest of you life?"

"that is not what i said, babe, and you know it," you laugh again, letting him pull you onto his lap. he kisses you once and then twice. "if you say so, love."

you spend your first night engaged to jeonghan the best way possible: talking to him. you lay down next to him, in your pyjamas, feeling fuller than ever. he tells you everything he'd thought or done in the past few months, scrolling through his camera roll for reference and kissing you whenever you'd have a giggling reaction. when it was your turn, you pulled up your notes app with lyrics from the past few months and read some select ones out for him.

"oh, oh, and the way i was gonna introduce this one was like this," you clear your throat as if taking on your stage persona, "this one's called no one's prettier because no one's prettier than my boy."

you fall into a laughing fit with jeonghan, a slight blush on his cheeks when he pulls you close, "someone's down bad for me, huh?"

"yes, sir, i am," you say back, smugly, "i love my boy, sorry, my fiancé so much and i just can't shut the fuck about him."

"god, say that again."

"what? that i can't shut the fuck up about my pretty fiancé? my adorable loverboy? my honest and reliable husband?" the last word feels so right on your tongue when uttered for jeonghan, even though you'd never said it before.

"you're my everything, love," mumbles jeonghan with a big smile, kissing you sqaure on the mouth.

–

"...so the past few months have been a rough trek for the band," you speak into the microphone, looking onto the solemn crowd with a soft smile, "and when i say the band, i really just mean me. i think i aged by like ten years." the crowd laughs.

"but i came out stronger, and more engaged than ever," you wiggle your left hand at the crowd, throwing a smile at jeonghan at the front, watching with a smitten grin. "so here's a new song i wrote. it's called everything because my love is everything to me."

when your set ends, you rush to jeonghan's arms and before you can ask him he'd liked the new song, he kisses your hands. "that was perfect, love. i've never felt more seen by a song."

you let him shower you with kisses as you walk him through the lyrics a little. you're in the middle of explaining the bridge when you're interrupted by a call of your name.

"y/n?"

you turn around to find wonbin standing before with a rose in his hand. "oh, hi, wonbin!"

jeonghan doesn't do anything to hide the dislike on his face for the man. after all, you'd told him about everything that happened that night at the club and had barely managed to calm him down after. "hey," he nods at jeonghan who simply raises his brows at him.

wonbin glances at jeonghan's arm around your waist and sighs. "congratulations on your engagement, y/n," he holds out the rose, "and i'm sorry about everything that happened with us. i hope you know it's only because i have nothing but admiration for you. and maybe one day–"

"thank you for your kind words, wonbin," jeonghan cuts him off, taking the rose and handing it to you with a small smile. "but we need to be going somewhere. sorry. see you around. maybe at the wedding?"

as you walk away from wonbin, you chuckle at jeonghan, "didn't know you were still worked up about that guy?"

"of course i am! he tried to take advantage of you in a hard time! i'm just too pretty to get into a fight or i would've thrown hands long ago."

you laugh as you kiss him on the cheek, "right, of course. my baby, let's go home."

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satowooo · 16 hours

Text

ii. down bad

Satoru was so sure that he finally got over you, but why does he feel his heart beating again whenever he sees you walking down the room as if you own the place, the way you own his heart? Reminiscing the past feels like voluntarily falling down the edge of a high mountain, except Gojo Satoru was more than willing to welcome the pain that he thought was long gone and buried in the depths of the sea.

contents. angst, fluff, maid!reader x gojo satoru, difference in social class, past events, flashbacks, modern au, not proofread.

‘Cause fuck it I was in love, so fuck you if I can't have us.

previous chapter → next chapter

JANUARY 2009

It was probably love at first sight for Gojo Satoru. Or maybe just a small interest. Maybe he just wanted to be friends with you. Or maybe you really just caught his attention.

It was probably because it's the first time for Satoru to see a maid the same age as him, which makes it more intriguing because he usually has old ones who are at least 10 years older, most of them who raised him since he was just a child. And then there's you walking in with your chin up, eyes set in front, your moves calculated, and you're not sparing him a glance every time he walks by, your head always lowered in a polite bow.

It felt like you were a robot. A cold demeanour of a woman who seems to be dolled up and built to be a servant who will obediently obey any orders from its master. To Gojo Satoru, you were an emotionless, uninteresting, boring woman.

So why is he so drawn to you?

There's something about you that makes you feel different. Sure, he has met other girls too. They were all lively and admired him like he's the prettiest person in the whole world. Quirky and cheerful girls unlike you who were… nothing.

He wants to know what's this force pulling him to come to you. And he needs to be at a near distance, he needs to get to know you, to talk to you, just so he could answer these questions in his head.

It's been exactly two weeks since the first time he saw you back in the garden, and he still hasn't talked to you even once. He's been watching from afar, call him a stalker or a creep, but those are none of his intentions. You caught his eye, that's for sure.

It was one of those leisurely days wherein Satoru was just taking a walk around the estate, breathing in the fresh air of his palace-like home. Everyone who walked by bowed down to greet their master, whispering amongst themselves and putting up their best behaviours.

“The tea is ready, Young Master.” A maid approached him, eyes down on the floor. “Do you want us to set it up on the tables at the pavilion?”

Satoru raised his hand as if to wave them off, motioning the maid to raise her head. “No need for that. Take it to my chambers. I'll follow shortly.”

The maid nodded before she took her leave, until Satoru was left alone in the gardens once again. His eyes roamed around for a presence, hoping to see the familiar silhouette of a lady that he longed to see. Days of observing you, he had noticed well enough that you spent a lot of your time here, where all the flowers bloomed in the softest colours that pleased the eyes. And he wanted to see you here, perhaps make a small talk if he was lucky enough for you to grace him with your presence.

But to no avail. Satoru let out a sigh after a few minutes of waiting around, his head darting from left to right one last time to see if you're coming or not, and you still didn't. His chest heaves as he tucks his hands in his pockets, walking back to his chambers to have his tea.

The silence around the estate had always been deafening, hearing only footsteps from the servants or the clinks of cups. Every step he took made quite a sound that reached the walls, his aura alone could startle even the small ants that roamed around the corner of his house as he dragged the door open, revealing his neatly cleaned bedroom.

He sat cross legged on the soft mattress on the floor before his tea table, grabbing a book as he waited for the maids to bring his afternoon snacks.

And oh is it his lucky day?

“Young Master…”

A voice so soft and unfamiliar came by the door, knocking three times. Despite how Satoru didn't know the owner of the voice behind his door, his heartbeat suddenly started to rise from his chest.

He cleared his throat, straightening his posture. “Come in.”

He felt like he caught his breath when the doors opened, revealing the woman he had been looking for quite some time now. Your hair up in a ponytail, your kimono hanging on your body as your small hands carry the tray of tea cups and a kettle. Right before him stands the most beautiful woman he had seen his whole life.

He gulped, sweat forming in his forehead. For a second, he didn't know what to do or say.

Satoru felt stupid. Crazy. Bewildered. And astonished. And enthralled. By you. For you.

He didn't realise his mouth was gape open for a few seconds, a faint shade of pink flushed on his cheek. He gulped once more before he finally had the courage to talk.

“Come in. Place them on the table” He patted the empty table, waiting for you to take the tea to him. You kept your head lowered, not looking him in the eye again.

You swiftly placed the tray on his table, kneeling down on the opposite side in front of him. You took the kettle, pouring down the tea skillfully on his cup. You almost felt yourself spill the tea when you heard his voice that seemed to echo around the room.

“I heard, you're new here?”

Obviously, you are. He knew it for quite some time now. But what else does he have to say? He wants a conversation and that's what he's doing to get your attention. Even though it made him sound like he's stupid.

“Yes, Young Master.” Your answer was short and precise, leaving no room to keep the conversation afloat. But it's Gojo Satoru talking, you can't expect him to shut up with just one question.

“As from what I know, you're here to take your mother's place while she's receiving medical treatments as of the moment. How is she?” He takes a sip from his cup, his eyes never leaving yours as he watches your every movement.

“She's recovering well.”

He raised an eyebrow, nodding his head. Your short answers made him dumbfounded for quite a reason, unable to think of another question that might keep you talking.

He clenched his jaw, tilting his head to the side as he said, “Lift your head.”

You gulped, hands falling down on your thighs as you slowly looked up. Oceanic blue eyes beneath his snowy lashes met with yours as if a light was shining directly at your face for how blinding his gaze felt like. Your breath hitched for a moment. His beauty was nothing like a normal man you see on televisions. Neither artists nor models.

He was breathtaking. Gojo Satoru was the epitome of beauty. A piece of art that never fades even as centuries pass.

“What's your name, Miss?” He asked, cocking an eyebrow at her. “As your master, I should know at least the names of who I associate myself with inside our home, no?”

You blinked a few times before you uttered your name out of your mouth, feeling out of breath all of a sudden. Despite how calm his gaze looked into you, you felt like he was trying to freeze you with his eyes alone. “Y/N…”

His lips curled into a delightful smile. There was a satisfaction laced in his eyes as he nodded his head, his fingers circling on the edge of his teacup. “A beautiful name, Miss Y/N. You probably know me already, but I'm Satoru Gojo. Pleasure to meet you.”

You smiled politely, your eyes looking anywhere but his. While Satoru Gojo basked himself in your beauty, looking directly into your appearance as if you'd be gone any moment now if he tears his eyes away from you. It took Satoru quite awhile before he finally came back to his senses to finally let you take your leave.

“Now, I'm sure you have other things to do. You may go now.” Satoru raised his cup like he was doing a toast before he took another sip. “I'll let you know if I need anything.”

He somehow made a good first impression, he thought. You didn't talk much yet your presence alone filled the silence as he stared at you for quite some time and Satoru is just glad he didn't embarrass himself.

It was more than enough. At least for now. He'll make sure to take all the chances he gets to talk to you and climb the walls you've built around yourself. He doesn't mind.

FEBRUARY 2009

“It's nice to see you again.”

You jolted in shock when a presence suddenly came beside you while you were picking some flowers. A low manly voice of a man that you're now familiar with ever since you worked here.

You stayed calm, facing him so you could properly greet him as you bowed your head. “Young Master, is there anything you need?”

“Your presence, if I may.”

Now, Satoru Gojo was definitely playing with fire. His words shooting out of his mouth before he could think about how it could affect this so-called relationship you two had that hasn't even started yet. But then, he still felt cool about it. Biting his lip as he shrugs smugly as you look at him confused.

“My presence?”

“Indeed. I hope you don't mind if I… stay around with you while you do your tasks.” He looks down at the basket you're holding filled with different types of flowers, smiling to himself at the thought of you might make a bouquet of it. “But of course, if you don't want me to, I will leave.”

“No, Sir. How can I refuse?” You laughed nervously, waving your hands to say no. “Stay if you must. I don't mind at all.”

Satoru chuckled and nodded his head. “Well then…”

He looked down the basket, his gaze locked on the extra scissors. Without further ado, he took them by his hands, proceeding to help you pick the same flowers that you were collecting.

“Do you have any flowers that you like here?” He asks, his eyes focused on the plant that he was cutting.

Your eyes quickly caught what he was trying to do, your mouth flying open as he cut the stem of a flower. “Young Master, please let me do the work. You're not supposed to–”

“Relax, Miss.” He turned to you with a chuckle, pushing his hand in the air in front of you where he was holding the flower that he picked. “I want to help. And don't worry, you won't get into trouble for this.”

You hesitated at first, but seeing him pushing his hands forward where he offered you the flower made you relent. You sigh in defeat, nodding your head as you take the flower from him, putting it down the basket. “Then I shall oblige.”

“So are you going to answer my question?” He asked as he continued his work.

“Question?”

“Flowers. Any flowers in here that you had taken a liking to?”

You purse your lips together, looking over at the other side of the garden, where different colours of tulips are starting to bloom. “That one.”

“The tulips?”

“Mhmm…”

Satoru smiled to himself, taking a mental note to give you one some of these days. “Nice choice. They're beautiful, aren't they?”

“They are. My brother loves them.” You blurted, starting to open up into the conversation with him.

“You have a brother?” Satoru asked in curiosity as he plucked another flower, then tossed it down the basket. “How old is he?”

“Yes, I have an eight-year-old brother.” Your heart warms at the thought of your sibling, a person who's probably waiting for you to come home during the weekend.

He glances at you, noticing the warm smile that crossed your lips, feeling something tugging at his chest at this sight of you. Relaxed and comfortable in his presence, it made him confident that you were somehow warming up a bit with him.

“You should take him here some time.”

Your eyes widened at his invitation, quickly looking over at him only to find that he was already staring at you, his eyes showing that he was serious. You take a sharp breath, feeling his gaze burning into you as he waits for your answer.

“I cannot… I'm here to work–”

“I insist.” Satoru cutted her off, before he went back to plucking some more flowers. “I enjoy company once in a while. He can have as many tulips as he wants. I promise you won't get into trouble for it, I'm the master in here after all, aren't I?”

Did he easily sway you like that? You hoped he didn't.

“Right…” You looked down, your fingers fidgeting. “I'll let him know.”

There was a moment of silence. Only the sounds of the scissors trimming and leaves falling down the ground could be heard. You focused on your work as Satoru helps you, and minutes passed until the basket was already overflowing because your mind was too preoccupied with your conversation with him.

You sighed, bidding him farewell as the work was done. You left as soon as he dismissed you, your heart racing the same way as your steps quickly travelled back to your room.

Your chest was heaving, and you don't know if you're breathing this heavy because of the way you hurriedly ran to your abode or was it because of the way he made you feel. Nonetheless, you don't want to know the answer just yet.

MARCH 2009

That wasn't the last time that you saw Gojo Satoru. After that interaction, you seem to cross paths with him more frequently than before. And everytime it happens, he always engages in conversations with you. His advances didn't bother you so much, in fact, it made you comfortable enough ever since you started working as a maid and he made you feel less lonely. Gradually, you became casual with him, yet still remaining professional.

Satoru liked it. The company. Your presence. The casualty. And the friendship that's starting to bloom between the two of you. It wasn't easy at first, but he got the hang of your personality.

He notices how you seem to not be close with anyone among the maids, since they're either older than you by a few years or… simply old enough to be your mother. He watched you talk to them at some point, asking about things that you're not yet familiar with in the estate, and following their orders if you're needed. You were perfect and obedient and he never saw you complaining about any task laid in front of you.

As a sound came from the front door, Satoru jerked his head up from where he sat on the grass. He saw you walking out in more casual clothes, piquing his interest immediately as he stood to go to you.

“Are you going somewhere?” Satoru curiously asked as soon as he got to your side. He noticed the way you jumped back a bit, clearly not expecting his sudden appearance.

“Uh, yeah… I'm going out a bit.” You answered shortly.

“Where?” Satoru glanced in front of the two of you where a familiar face was waiting at the car, their family driver, waiting for you.

“The grocery store.”

“Right. I'll take you.”

“What?”

You both stopped on your tracks as you looked at him confused. You tried to read his expression, but Satoru only offered you a cheeky smile. He walked ahead so he could talk to the driver before taking the keys from him. He strode to the passenger seat and opened the door for you without a word.

“Aren't you coming?”

And that's simply how you found yourself at the grocery store, with a tall man tailing behind you.

From the way he talks, and the way he carries himself into the room, every other woman that you two would walk past will sneak a glance at him. You'd hear teenage girls shrieking, even mothers with their child seated in a cart will look over at him. Satoru Gojo was just so majestic that everyone couldn't take their eyes away from him.

You felt awkward from the attention, even though you know that it's not for you, but they were still glancing over at your direction. You don't even know how you handled his little conversations all throughout the ride and even now at the store.

“Y/N! You should get some of this for yourself!” Satoru held up a bar of chocolate, practically shaking it in front of your face. “You know, so you can have some sweetness in your body. You always looked salty in the face.”

“Is that a joke?” You watched as he snickered at himself. You took the chocolate and put it back on the shelf. “Young Master, I strictly have to follow what's on the list that they gave me, so I'm sorry but I can't just rashly take something for myself.”

Satoru’s lips formed into a pout, crossing his arms at you like a child. “You're no fun.”

He follows you as you start to push the cart again, walking over another aisle. “And why the sudden formality? We're in public, Y/N.”

“That does not change the dynamics.” You replied shortly, not even entertaining the thought of informally calling him by his name.

“Why? We can't act like normal people outside?” He argues, taking the cart from you as he nudges you to the side. He pushed the cart instead, having you walk next to him instead.

His eyes narrowed intently while his eyes were looking over ahead. An unsettling feeling was tugging on his chest, his hands gripping on the cart while he pushed it forward. He let out an exasperated sigh.

“We are acting like normal people.”

“No. You're acting like we're not even friends. Like I'm just a business partner to you.” He scoffs, stopping to look at you. “Like you're a lowly servant and I'm the bad boss. I don't like it.”

You gazed back at his eyes and you don't understand why he looked so upset. You were just acting normal, like how you usually do when you're working around the estate, so what's got him so worked up?

But anyhow, you didn't want him to feel this way. So the best thing you could do was to talk calmly, trying to make him explain more.

“Why? I mean, am I not the servant and you the boss? Except the bad part.”

“We're not just that.”

Satoru gritted his teeth, and you noticed the way his jaw clenched which took you aback. You blinked a few times at him as you tried to read his expression, but all you could just see was him struggling to even find the right words to say.

You sighed, looking away from his face. “I’m sorry if I made you feel–”

“We're friends, aren't we?” Satoru cuts you off, his neck flushing red in embarrassment over the emotions stirring in his mind. His heart thumped off his chest and he hoped you couldn't hear it. “I mean… to me, we're friends. We've been talking for quite awhile now. So maybe… I thought you might feel the same… Don't you?”

You looked stunned by his words as he left you with a question that you were also asking yourself for quite some time now. He's right. You did feel the same. But worry gnaws on your skin that maybe you might've been just assuming his kindness for friendship, because you know all too well that a friendship between a low class woman like you and someone high standard like him would be impossible.

He's out of your league. Way too out of your league. And you always thought of him. Always hoped for him. Because you can't grasp him with your hands. The way he was always so close yet still so far.

But here he is. The beautiful man pouting his lips at you as he anticipates your answer. Because all Satoru wants is just for you to feel the same way as him.

You nodded reluctantly, turning your body away from him so you could continue your stroll in the store. “Okay… Sure…”

A smile finally etched on his lips. There was a small glint of happiness tainted on his blue eyes, shining brightly while he followed you from behind, pushing the cart with him. “Sure, what? I want to hear it!”

And there he was, back again to his usual personality. He nudges and bothers you like a child the whole time, trying to pull tricks on how he'll get you to say the words he wants to hear.

In the end, he simply just gave up when you showed no signs of relenting over to him. He knew you wouldn't, but the moment made him smile. He was satisfied and happy enough that at least you admitted it, even not directly. But to Gojo Satoru, small things still mattered and he wouldn't ask for anything more as long as it's you.

PRESENT

Satoru Gojo still remembers how vulnerable he had been. Well, can he blame himself? He was young, and naive.

He doesn't understand why he wanted you so much to notice him. He didn't understand how you made him feel that way… and he didn't want to feel the same anymore.

Satoru looks at you from afar painfully. His eyes shutting tightly at all the memories that still haunted his already tired heart, haunting the heart that still threatens to beat for you.

He was so mad. Still mad at you for leaving. Mad at you for making him feel so hopeless and weak. Mad at you for leaving him alone to deal with the consequences of falling in love.

But he's so… desperately… utterly… helplessly in love. His heart always ached and longed for you. The woman who swept him off his feet, the woman with gentle smiles and soft hands that touched his heart, the woman who used to utter her words of affection right before his ears. Why? Why did you even leave?

He's so, so mad at you. Because even until now, he still longs for the day that you might have looked at him the same way that you used to before.

He watched as you slowly poured him his tea, your hands still graciously performing the move.

But your hands were shaking, your eyes trembling as you tried to get a hold of yourself. Pouring tea for him like you used to do seemed to be the hardest task now that everything has changed between you. You gulped, focusing on the cup that was about to be full.

You didn't expect your hands to fail you just then. Your hand suddenly moves in nervousness causing you to nudge the cup and spill the tea right over the table. You jolted in shock as you shakily put the kettle down and quickly muttered apologies.

Satoru stared you down. And for a moment he wanted to pity the woman before him who seemed to have lost herself. But no, he can't just be weak for you again after all these years.

“How bothersome.” He scoffs at you, making you stop. The air was thick with tension and Satoru’s irritation was evident in his expression while you gulped in nervousness. It was the first time that you ever felt so defenceless before him.

“I'm… so sorry…” You muttered slowly, your gaze locked on the mess that you've made.

“I don't need your sorry, Y/N.” The words rolled off his tongue bitterly, and he didn't even think about the way he sounded so harsh. “Clean the mess, and get your face out of my sight.”

he's down bad crying at the gym lol let me know if you want to be added on the taglist !!

tagging: @blankwashed @mshitachin @mumblepingu @mimooyi @makimamybelovedwife @prettylvne @em-asian @tojisworm-5 @numblytemporary @tqd4455 @hyunsuks-beanie @flmdrva @bubera974 @yuuuumii @catobsessedlady

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cosmic-expressions · 1 day

Text

⋮ ♯; ⤷ hypnotized .ᐟ

i can't escape you, i'm hypnotized ―୨୧⋆˚

dan heng x fem!reader; smut, fluff, no plot; first time, emotional, awkward, a bit vanilla(?); multiple rounds, multiple orgasms, missionary, cowgirl; needy & whiney dan heng agenda; unprotected sex (but wrap it up irl); praise, marking, pet names, groping and touching and in general lots of smooching; overstimulation if you squint;

wc: 4.4k

a/n: hello on a new acc and idk what else to say except prepare for lots of nasty thoughts in the future. peace out. and quick taglist: @kuniihoonii @hoonieswhore (sorry if you didn't want to, I thought you'd like some more dan heng content by yours truly)

the night isn't so early, but it's not extremely late either; or at least you think so, since it's kind of hard to tell time while traveling through space.

but despite that, you're not sleepy; it's actually surprising because you're laying on the pile of bedsheets dan heng calls his bed. granted, the pile is comfortable... sometimes too comfortable, but a proper mattress wouldn't hurt... especially wouldn't hurt his back. and yours, by the way.

prepped on your elbows, you're laying on your stomach with legs up in the air, wiggling them back and forth, while you read a random novel you found in the pits of the archives. you had no idea the bookshelves would contain normal books, let alone such a genre: erotica.

despite its lack of logic or laws of physics, the plot is surprisingly good... or at least good enough to kill the boredom that's washing over you. the silence, at first calming and comforting, soon became too loud, as loud as silence can get. especially when one misses their beloved.

sighing, you close the book and look around the room again. dimly lit, enough to read comfortably, seems... empty. well, no wonder why, because there's only you in there. but usually... usually, even at such hour, dan heng is back, rummaging through the piles of sacred and not texts, books, and other papers he sorts. even if he's quiet, no music is playing, it's still not complete silence. the sheets of paper sweetly swoosh over each other, the pen smoothly traces letters, and the overall atmosphere is... comforting. but without him, no matter how many books you'll go through just to make some noise, it's still empty.

"here you are..."

when dan heng sees you on his... so-called bed, he can't help but sigh in relief. something about seeing you so comfortable in his room makes his heart flutter, even if it's him who had to get comfortable with this. when he lets you in in his little cave, you're a part of it; it's not his room without you around.

"where else should i be?" you frown slightly, confused by his words, features softening the second you hear his melodic voice.

"in my arms, obviously."

you laugh in disbelief, not expecting such a cheesy line from him. but when you see how one corner of his lips curves millimeters up in a snug expression, you can guess he was taking lessons from march and caelus.

"then come here. i've been waiting for you..." you throw the book aside and roll on your side with open arms. that smile of yours, one who could fight the sun with its brightness and warmth, is enough for him to cave in.

but he stops when he notices the title of the book you were reading.

he averts his gaze immediately, but the way his ears redden tell you everything. it wasn't a book from the express's archives. it was from his own collection.

you say nothing; instead, you cuddle with dan heng, limbs tangled and bodies squeezed together in a tight embrace. the moment is serene for a second, with your bodies tangled together and warming each other, being vulnerable and protective at the same time. with closed eyes, both of you relish in this moment of silence; not the empty one, but loud, loud, and intense with all the feelings you two have for each other.

dan heng tries, he really does; he doesn't want to put silent pressure on you, so he bottles up all the need for you. it gets to the point where every single one of his nerves is on fire, every muscle gets tense, and his body gets really warm. warm to the point that even you can feel it.

"is it about that book?"

"what?" he's doomed. he's so over. he's so-

"i know it's a book from your collection. but i don't know why you read such stuff... do you gather intel for... our first time?"

your giggle is cute and innocent, but dan heng can't take it anymore. he's intoxicated by you, swooned over you... straight-up horny for you and he can't keep it in his pants any longer.

"yes." he breathes out, heart thumping in his chest like a ticking bomb. taking a deep breath doesn't help him one bit, and when you look at him with lustful sparkles in your big, lovely eyes while you speak... he feels physical pain.

"are you ready, then? i know i am."

apparently, dan heng wasn't the brightest one, because all the signs, all the teasing you treated him with, were not enough for him to notice. but now it's the time. and both of you know that.

maybe he is horny to the point where he's like a ticking bomb, but he's still a clueless gentleman. his lips clash with yours, intertwining in a slow yet passionate manner while he lays you down on the sheets. your hands cupping his face, the soft skin of your palms, and the sweet taste of your lips make dan heng breath even heavier, coming in ragged pants.

he wants you so bad; to taste you, explore you, praise and worship you, just like you deserve. dan heng never caught feelings that caliber for anyone but you, and this? this is testing his limits. he's so close to cumming in his pants at the mere thought of your naked body, and yet here he is, hands under your t-shirt, reaching for the hem to take it off. he's excited, he's needy, he's so eager; aeons, he loves you so much. and he wants to show you how much he loves you.

"d-dan heng... give me a second."

your voice rips him out of his thoughts. then he realizes your top is off; you're left in a bra and shorts, while he's still fully dressed. that is not fair, he thinks.

"i'll- i'll take mine off, too-" he trails off, reaching for the zippers, quickly getting out of the upper part of his clothing.

"that's not- that wasn't the matter, but- thank you nonetheless," you chuckle and breathe heavily, the sight of your boyfriend's torso, making you only more aroused. trying to reassure yourself, you smile at him softly, hesitating a little to say anything.

"i love you. i love you so much. you know that, right? there's no one else for me but you."

you almost tear up; it's the first time he said it out loud. he told you at the beginning that it's hard for him, and yet... here he is. vulnerable with his emotions, ready to be vulnerable with you.

dan heng is fully aware of how this moment affects you; how it must be hard to feel so... exposed after years of trying to cover up. yes, he's in literal pain still, but he's ready to take it slow and eventually fuck his fist rather than hurt you in any way.

the way his eyes glimmer in the dim light, how they sparkle and glow with nothing but love and devotion while he speaks... that's it. you know he's not lying. you know he's genuine with you, and that he's ready to sacrifice himself for you...

you unclasp your bra and put it aside, getting rid of your shorts too. and when he notices the confidence, love, and commitment, he unzips his pants in seconds.

"may i- kiss you again?" dan heng breathes out, looking you in the eyes and getting lost in them immediately. when you grab his face in your palms and kiss him with urgency he never felt from you, he gives in.

"touch me. everywhere you want, but not there, yet."

"your wish is my command, princess," he mutters back, kissing you again and moving one of his hands to your waist, caressing the soft skin and curves of your body.

you feel his leaking cock against your thigh and by aeons, is it intoxicating. the thoughts to jump on him and fuck him until you pass out are loud, but, surprisingly, you can compose yourself for now. just savor this moment, feel it, and prepare by the way, you say to yourself.

and aeons, do you feel things.

his hands, big yet calloused, touch you so gently, almost as if it's a little fluffy cloud tickling your skin. he continues to spread his warmth across your body, placing his hands everywhere he can; waist, hips, thighs, belly – you name it, he touches it. but he doesn't dare to even think about touching your pussy yet, even if he feels how wet it already is.

dan heng growls quietly, breaking the kiss and resting his forehead on yours with eyes closed, trying to compose himself again. it's hard, with his thoughts racing and spiraling down to his cock, he can't do this anymore, the battles persists and he's not the bravest soldier...

"dan heng? dan heng, can you look at-"

"no, i- i can't. i'm losing control already and- admiring your beauty like that is too much- i'll go to the bathroom and-"

"dan heng!"

the slight bonk you give his head with your hand gets him out of his thoughts, and he finally looks at you with the pain he's trying to suppress. you reassure him with a soft smile before continuing what you wanted to say.

"you can put it in... but slowly. you're- you're quite big and i'm not sure if it fits-"

"i'll make it fit, baby. it'll fit and it'll feel so good- but that's for another time."

the eagerness audible in his voice is adorable, making you chuckle and flustered. he kisses you lips again, exchanging saliva in such a needy and sloppy way. all you can do in such sudden moment is gasp and melt, letting his tongue explore your mouth.

you can feel how his cock is twitching in anticipation and need against your thigh, and the thought of finally feeling it inside makes you dizzy and wet; not in your wettest dreams you imagined his cock to be so... delightful.

"ready?" dan heng suddenly pulls away and breaks the kiss, looking into your eyes for consent. the way you stare at him with excitement, lust, and trust sends him into overdrive. he's not going bonkers thanks to the last thin strings of self-control.

"ready."

he almost drools and cums on the spot when he feels your dripping wet pussy. smearing the precum and your arousal over your entrance, dan heng lets out a few moans and whimpers; his cock is already so sensitive and the warmth of your folds inviting him almost make him cry.

"i love you so much, baby." he's mumbling into your ear while pushing his cock into your pussy, slowly but surely filling you up. the whimpers you two make mingle in the air, making a new sonata that's meant only for you, for this moment, never played again. this is it, this is the moment of pure bliss, where the usually closed heart of your boyfriend is pouring out all the love he has for you. only for you.

dan heng groans and whimpers in suffering, trying his best not to push himself all in at once. he breathes in and out, warm air getting out of his lungs is tickling your neck and ear, making you even more aroused.

"more."

he stops existing for a second, taking in your word. it's only one word and yet it's like a spark to the dynamite of need inside him.

"i need- more of you, you feel so- good," you start babbling, also getting lost in the pleasure. the soft yet demanding stare you give him says a lot; you're sure of what you say, you're sure what you want, and you're sure you want him.

"just a second, baby- i want to stretch you, not rip you in two."

the quiet whine you let out makes him whimper and throb inside you. he's so close to cumming, so close to giving it up... but he needs to wait a little more.

he can't do that when you suddenly cup his face and place a set of sloppy kisses all over his lips and jaw, whimpering and moaning softly.

you relax further, the reactions you get out of him with your little teasing are so cute that you can't help and giggle softly. rolling your hips a little, you help him push his cock further, slowly stretching you in such a delicious way.

"baby, no- i'm gonna-!"

dan heng tries to stop you and your greedy pussy, but he's helpless when his cock is hugged by your tight, velvety walls. with closed eyes, he shudders and rests his forehead on your forehead while he cums, his cock twitching and painting your inner walls already.

"fuck- i'm sorry, baby," he starts, his body still shaking as he speaks. "i couldn't help it- it won't happen again, i promise, baby-"

"you may think i'm crazy or twisted, but i find it hot."

his skin is warm under your palms as you soothe his shoulders and arms, trying to calm him down. with his head still resting on your shoulder, dan heng pants and tries to catch his breath, kissing your skin softly.

"it happens. it's normal and it's fine. i didn't mind it," you continue to comfort him, your soft fingertips brushing over his skin. your breathing is steady, heart beats only a little faster in the excitement as you want him to breathe with you. and he does after a short while, his thoughts also halting to a stop. "if you want, we can stop it here-"

"no. i want to make you feel so good like you never felt before- i want to fuck you so good that you'll get wet when thinking about it again."

such a bold statement makes your eyes widen in surprise, especially when you can hear how determined he is for it to happen. your breath gets stuck in your lungs as you try to pry your inner whore away.

"as long as- as you'll be careful and loving... then i don't- i don't mind."

a consensus has been made between your voice of reason and inner whore, both sides getting what they want; a good and sweet lovemaking session with the only man that there is for you.

dan heng chuckles and lifts his head, looking you in the eyes with undying devotion and utmost adoration as he seeks the confirmation in your stare. seeing your flushed skin, body shivering in anticipation, and lips slightly parted, he doesn't need to be told twice. placing a soft kiss on your forehead, he rests his own on yours and stares right into you eyes, stare piercing right into your soul.

"i'll make you feel so good, baby- you'll feel amazing, i promise-" he continues his ramblings, at this rate getting delirious at the mere thought of how cute you'll look when cumming around him and because of him.

his cock slides out and inside you again with ease, stretching and filling your tight pussy to the brim, knocking the air out of your lungs. gasping and moaning, you reach for his hand, needing to hold it through the whole session.

you two are so needy for each other's body, soul, mind, and heart and it's showing in every little move. dan heng quickly intertwines your hand with his, holding it gently yet in a firm grip. you put your other palm at the back of his head, and with fingers fidgeting with his hair, you pull him closer for a heated and full of devotion kiss.

he's waiting patiently for your walls to adjust to his size, but when they squeeze him so deliciously, it's hard to resist. his kisses and touches get impatient, more needy, and more possessive. taking a handful of one of your breasts, he squeezes the soft flesh and brushes his fingers across you nipple just to tease you and elicit more of those cute sounds from you.

"f-fuck, dan heng-" you whimper softly right into his lips, the stretch being overwhelmingly amazing. your breathing is ragged and shaky, thoughts race out of your mind at the feeling of his cock inside you.

"baby, you're so- so tight, aeons-" he starts grunting and moaning, finally rolling his hips further into your core. "your pussy is so good i- i can't control myself anymore, baby-"

the heated kisses you two exchange while mingled together make you both even more sweaty, smell of sex filling the room, soaking into the walls, bedsheets, everywhere where it can, just to remind you later how fiery and passionate your love is.

dan heng explores your body further with his free hand, the warm palm hovering over your skin sets your senses aflame further. his soft touch is addicting, paired with his throbbing cock thrusting in and out of your pussy makes such a dangerous mix. his hand roams over your breasts, stomach, sides, everywhere he can reach. when he reaches your hips and thighs, you react immediately, making his heart flutter and mind fuzzy with excitement.

"you like being touched here?" he asks softly, fingers brushing over your thighs, from the inner part to the outer, up and down, repeat. you don't say anything, yet he knows the answer to his question right after; the way your pussy flutters around his length, how your legs shake, how you moan louder – all of it makes his head spin and causes a wicked grin to appear on his face.

you squeeze his hand and pull him closer, hand on the back of his head pulling him in for another sloppy kiss. but you trail off your lips to the side, kissing and licking your way from the corner of his lips to his jaw, neck, shoulder, and collarbone, leaving soft marks with almost every kiss. moaning into his skin, you nibble on the sensitive parts of his neck, the need to claim him and show everyone who he belongs to being too alluring to resist.

"oh, fuck-!" dan heng is not prepared for you marking him up but aeons does he love it. tilting his head to the side, he gives you easier access to all the places he wants- no, he needs- to be marked. his breath gets shallow and ragged, cock throbbing and pulsing inside you because of how much he loves this; the marks that he will show with pride, announcing to everyone that he's yours and yours only.

his quiet whimpers and moans sound so pretty, paired with the squelching noises of his cock pumping itself into your pussy give a lovely one-of-a-kind concerto meant only for the two of you; a concerto about desire, love, and trust, a tribute to love you two hold for each other.

"d-dan heng! ah-! you feel- so good- ah!" crying out in pleasure, you arch your back with a loud moan when the tip of his cock nudges at that one sweet spot, having you sob and scream his name further.

it's like the more you scream his name, the more dan heng goes insane. with his eyes closed, he's panting into your neck, sliding inside you with ease and need; he needs you to cream around him, he needs to feel your cum coating his already sensitive length, he needs to hear you more, even if your throat is already dry because of the constant screams.

"mmh- baby, you're doing so good for me, fuck- keep going, moan my name- you're such a good- good fucking girl-"

your thighs shake and squeeze around his waist while your hips stutter, your whole body being lit on fire when you cum, gushing around him and squeezing his cock deeper inside. crying out, your whole body stiffens as you lose control, pussy throbbing, creaming, and milking him with need of his load.

seeing you like this, body flushed, pleasure written all over your face, with one hand holding his and the other one gripping the sheets... dan heng can't take it anymore. he's cumming right after, thick load after load filling your greedy little pussy up to the brim, as it milks his length further.

he rests his head in the crook of your neck, panting and smiling, placing soft and lazy kisses over your neck and shoulder. you still squeeze his hand, placing the other around him, soothing his back with your light and gentle touch. nuzzling your cheeks against his, you try to calm your labored breathing.

"mmm- you did so well, darling," dan heng muses quietly, finally lifting his head and looking at you, eyes full of love and adoration. he grips your hip softly, caressing your skin with his fingers. "are you tired, baby?"

"not that much," you answer, voice quiet and ragged with heavy breaths, as you try to calm down. the intensity of the moment got to you, and now you need a little more time to come back to your senses.

"then- can we go another round?"

you freeze, confused yet... enticed by the offer. you can feel how his cock is still hard, twitching and throbbing, waiting for you. aeons, it feels so good.

with one, swift motion, you pull him closer, kissing him with newly-found intensity, one he never imagined you could even feel for him, boring loser dan heng.

"let's go."

letting out a small chuckle of relief, dan heng looks at you for a second, admiring your sparkling eyes, flushed face, beautiful features. he can't help it; he dives in for another kiss, sloppy and messy, whimpering softly into your lips. the feeling of his breath on your face, how he tries to compose himself further, it's so extremely hot and tempting.

"are you really so needy? for me?" you tease him, knowing smirk glued to your face when dan heng pulls away for a second, his head quickly turning back to you, completely forgetting what he was looking for.

"y-yes..."

chuckling and cooing, you grab his chin, firmly but not strong enough to hurt; turning his red face to yours, lips millimeters away, you smirk again. as you look into his eyes, your fingers graze over his chin.

"do you want me to take care of you, then?"

his heart stops for a second, mind disappearing right after. with lips slightly parted, he's looking you in the eyes, stare hazed with desire devotion, and everything he's holding for you.

"yes, please."

quickly yet clumsily, you switch positions, with you now straddling his lap, dan heng sitting on his pile of blankets, staring at you with his pretty, pleading eyes. his hard cock nestled between your thighs is leaking precum again, the essence bubbling at the tip, smearing over your skin.

dan heng, the usually composed and collected archivist, is now getting putty in your hands, melting under you, mewling and whimpering for you to take care of him and his length that's aching for you. this mess of horny, insatiable, and devoted nerd that wasn't touched by anyone else is for you and you only. and it's an incredible sight.

"baby-" he's whining, quiet moans slipping past his slightly parted, swollen from all the kisses lips, covered in spit and sweat; the glistening and plump lips you love to devour.

"what is it?" your eyes wander from his lips to his slowly teary eyes, eyelashes sweetly batting the tears and sweat away; but it's his lips that's your weakness. in seconds if not less, you press a sweet yet passionate kiss, tongues dancing with each other as dan heng lets you devour his mouth, whimpering and almost cumming at the mere taste of your sweet lips.

"please, baby- i need you- i need you so bad," he's mumbling, whining and losing everything, ready to cry; all he needs is you and your sweet pussy, yet you keep it all away from him, like a big meanie!

he's kissing the corner of your lips, your cheeks, neck, everywhere he can reach, softly pecking your silky skin while maintaining eye contact, his big, puppy eyes pleading for you to ease his needs. "please baby, i need to- i need to be inside- i need your pussy so bad-"

"i got you, i got you-" you mumble out, needy for him as well. it's a rare occasion to have dan heng all for yourself, so you decide to use this opportunity.

slowly, you guide his tip inside your slick entrance, sucking him inside bit by bit. you need to take deep breaths to calm down and not straight-up impale yourself, but aeons, his cock just feels so good...

finally, you take his length all inside, moaning out loud with a little cry, his throbbing cock finally nestled deep where it belongs.

"mmh- fuck! d-dan heng, you feel- so good-" breathing out, you shiver and throw your head back, chest moving up and down rapidly as you try to continue breathing. with hands on his shoulders, you start to bounce on him, his cock easily sliding in and out as you ride both of your brains out.

you can't even focus on how pretty he looks in his fucked-out state, you yourself giving in to the pleasure. eyes rolled back, mouth parted – the stimulation and overall experience being quite intense, lots of emotions, need, and urgency make you two go non-verbal for a while; only deep panting and whimpers audible throughout the room.

"d-darling, oh fuck! so good-" dan heng lets out slurred words, eyes back in his skull as he starts to drool. quickly wiping his lips, he lets out another pretty moan, pulling your face closer to his own, and kissing you with urgency. his big hands, one on the back of your head and the other one on your thigh, hold you with care, not pushing, not pulling that roughly. he's powerless, too vulnerable, and hazy with lust to even think.

with your pussy hugging his cock so tight he's close again, legs shaking and hips jerking up to meet yours mid-way. you're close too, body shaking slightly, jolts of pleasure coursing through you as you pick up your pace. the need washes over you two, mingling your bodies together as you stay nestled in each other's embrace, fucking your brains out and confessing all the pent-up emotions.

your whimpers, his moans, and screams of each other's name echo through the archives for few hours straight, as you two just can't get enough, ready to pass out then stop. the few short breaks you two take are long enough for yearning to build up again, the whole cycle repeating again.

thank aeons the rest of the crew was out, as march and caelus would complain for the next week again.

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@ cosmic-expressions / @ deka-dent 2024, do not repost pls

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