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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 month

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The Perfect Life || CL16 {4}

Summary: The plan is set and it's time to get things into motion. Warnings: angst, swearing, sarcasm, abusive parents WC: 2k

One || Two || Three || Four || Five

Two Weeks Later

You were barely through the ornate arch that separated the foyer entrance from the dining room when a fist of razor sharp fingernails cut into your upper arm.

“Hi,” you greeted your mother as she dragged you into the room lit by a gilded chandelier. You were late to the regular Friday night dinner but time had slipped away from you at Arthur’s apartment. Charles had picked you up after flying in from Maranello and taken you to Monaco to finalise the plan after officially signing a contract his lawyers had drafted. The risk of exposure was too great to be an employee through his Ferrari team so everything had gone through his personal solicitor.

“Don’t ‘hi’ me you ungrateful little-sweetheart, you didn’t tell me you would be bringing a guest.” Your mother’s eyes widened as Charles stepped in behind you, his palm warming the small of your back. “I’ll have one of the maids set a place for you, Charles.”

You had coached Charles through the cutlery he could be expected to use, even in an informal setting such as a family dinner. The variations of forks would no doubt be a test that your mother would use to judge the latest guest. In return, he had posted cleverly taken photos throughout the week to ‘soft launch’ the relationship.

“Madame Florence told me that you missed your piano session this afternoon,” your mother said sweetly, but her nails dug deeper into your skin.

“That was today? It must have slipped my mind, you know what a ditz I can be.” Your aloof tone only set to anger her more but you knew she wouldn’t lash out while Charles was around. She always had to maintain the perfect image, like how her bruising grip was hidden by the sleeve of your shirt.

“You play piano?” Charles asked as your mother turned on her stiletto heel and took her place beside your father at the head of the table.

“Not by choice,” you muttered.

“Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and others have greatness thrust upon them,” you mother quoted Shakespear like the actress she had failed to become. “She might not be the first, but my daughter could achieve greatness if she applied herself and actually attended the lessons.”

“That must be the nicest thing you have ever said,” you commented as you took a seat opposite them. Charles pushed your chair in before taking his beside you where Alicia had placed a setting for him, an appetiser already waiting. “Charles is staying over so perhaps I can have some greatness thrust upon me tonight.”

Your mother choked on her negroni and the oyster fork slipped from your father’s hand, clattering to the fine china plate. Even Charles looked a little shocked but he quickly recovered.

“If that is alright with you of course, not the uh thrusting, but staying the night,” he said after clearing his throat.

“This isn’t a hotel,” your father stated. “Or a brothel.”

“Not sure about that since everything around here is completely fucked,” you whispered to Charles and caught the hint of a smile before turning to the head of the table. “Father, Charles is my boyfriend - get used to having him around.”

Charles’ fingers laced with yours and he kissed your knuckles. “At least until you move in with me.”

“Let’s just take a step back,” your father chuckled. “Boyfriend?”

You nodded and watched the amusement fade.

“You are dating the boy you spent weeks, months, crying over?” your mother asked with a laugh.

“Really?” Charles asked behind the napkin that he patted along his clammy upper lip.

“I was an emotional teenager, but I grew out of it - don’t take it personally,” you lied.

The dishes were swiftly taken away and replaced with the main course and Charles frowned when he saw the child size portion on your plate. “We can share,” he offered, thinking that his sudden arrival for dinner meant the kitchen was short of food.

“She’s on a diet,” your mother tutted. “It’s Social Season and we can’t have all those lovely gowns ill fitting.”

You stabbed the salad fork into a sweet cherry tomato and watched the seeds and juice splatter over the lettuce, morbidly imagining it was a certain someone across the table. You didn’t bother to even finish the plate of rabbit food before you excused yourself.

“You can stay,” you said to Charles when he rose to follow. “They’ll let you have dessert.”

“I’d rather your company,” he replied before turning to your parents. “Enjoy your evening.”

You felt his presence following closely up the stairs and you knew he was biting his tongue from the waves of discontent that seemed to physically roll off him. The second floor of the mansion was quiet as you walked the hallway and turned a corner to see Alicia step out of the staff stairwell.

“Rough night,” she said with a sad smile and held out the tray of food Chef Alain had prepared. This time there were two portions of dessert. Her eyes darted to Charles and she started to speak before closing her lips. Finally, she worked up the courage and asked, “Are you alright? I can call Franco.”

You smiled genuinely at her concern and placed a hand on her shoulder to reassure her that Charles was a welcome guest. “I’m fine, thank you, no need for the big guy. But, could you please let him know we’ll be heading out the south entrance tonight?”

Alicia nodded and relaxed slightly. Unable to fight the habit, she bobbed sedately and ducked back into the shadows of the stairwell. Your parents may have acted like the house staff didn’t exist but they were always around, and they always saw what the outside world didn’t. You would have lost your sanity long ago if it weren’t for their help, even if it meant risking their jobs.

Charles took the tray from your hand and you opened the plain white door that looked just like the others down the hall. He remained silent as he cast his eyes around the room that dripped lux from every surface. The plush carpet absorbed his footsteps as he stepped into the sitting room and the sheer curtains wavered in the breeze coming in from the sea beyond the wide balcony. In one adjoining room a large canopy bed spread across a wall decorated with blue and silver hand painted damask designs while an equally large desk sat in another connected by open glass doors.

“Hmm,” he hummed as he placed the tray on the coffee table and continued his quiet judgement walking around the rooms.

“Still not up to your standards?” you asked as you followed him to the bed that he sat comfortably on, toeing his shoes off before kicking them up and reclining back among the pillows.

Charles smirked and shrugged his shoulders. “I think I like the dump better, at least it has some personality. You don’t even have any photos on the wall.”

You thought about correcting him again for calling your sanctuary a dump, but gave up on the idea. Instead, you reached under your bed for the duffle bag you kept there and disappeared inside your wardrobe to pack. “You’re in luck, that’s exactly where we are crashing tonight.”

You dumped the bag on the floor in your spacious closet and dropped to your knees before rummaging around the bottom shelves. You pushed aside a box of Prada pumps you hadn’t yet worn and found what you were looking for as a shadow dimmed your light.

“Why aren’t we staying here?”

You looked up to find Charles towering over you and sat back on your heels, pulling the gym gear onto your lap. “It’s Friday, I have a fight.”

You stuffed a sports bra and shorts into the duffle bag before adding a pair of sneakers, knuckle tape and Vaseline in too. Lastly, you grabbed the hoodie Charles had given you and tossed it on top.

“You don’t have to fight anymore,” Charles said, blocking your exit from the small room.

“I’ve never been forced, the whole point is that it is my choice. Now move aside.”

He ignored your request and stayed planted in the doorway as you stepped closer. “Your mother said you cried over me. Why?”

Your back stiffened and you swallowed at the memory. “You’ve seen my family, I had plenty to cry about. Maybe I blamed you one day when she caught me.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“Believe what you want, I don’t care.” You tried to duck under his arm and escape but he was quicker and dropped it, catching you around the waist and tugging you against his body. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your cheek and just how strong his body was as his arms tightened their hold.

“I think you’re lying and I want to know why.”

“What good would the truth do?” You craned your neck to look him in the eyes and wondered when he had grown so tall. “Do you enjoy feeling guilty?”

Charles’ eyes bored into yours and you noticed the little crinkles around them as his frustration grew. “Just tell me, please.”

Your resolve broke and you shoved against Charles until you had the space to breathe. “I never got to say goodbye to him.”

His brows pinched together in confusion. “Who, Jules?”

“God, I hated you,” you laughed humorlessly as you sat on the edge of your bed and looked at your hands fidgeting on your lap. “Things were great before you came around, not here, obviously, but with the Bianchi’s. We would go karting on the weekends, Mélanie would let me help her bake. I didn’t know what a home felt like before then.”

The bed dipped as Charles sat beside you and took your hand. It was one thing to act as if there was a relationship but your heart stammered a little when he brushed his thumb over your knuckles. “I’m sorry.”

“I know now that my father already had plans for Jules before you met him, but that was when I noticed things started to change. Whenever I went to their house he would disappear, then there were no more karting days. Whenever I asked, he was busy karting with you. I thought you stole him from me.”

“That wasn’t your fault.”

“But it made you cry.”

Your shoulders jumped with a clipped laugh and you shook your head. “You know, I never went back to the hospital after that day.”

“What day?” Realisation dawned on his face and his hand slipped out of yours as he covered his mouth.

“I never got to finish the story. I never got to say goodbye,” you whispered as your voice broke and fresh tears burned your eyes. “And that is why I need to fight. There is so much anger inside me that I don’t know what else to do. It’s just sitting here,” you beat your fist against your hallow chest, “burning a fucking hole through me.”

A sob cracked the room as you admitted aloud for the first time something even Arthur didn’t know. You let Charles see just how close to the edge you really were and how little it would take for you to break. Strong arms enveloped you and pulled you onto his lap as you fell apart. You tried desperately to shut yourself off from the emotions but you had let too many through that it was impossible.

“I hate you,” you rasped as you hit his chest. The punches were weak without the space to swing your body behind it, but somehow it served to hurt him more. He knew you were stronger and seeing your feeble attempts crumble cleaved his chest apart more than your words. “I hate you, Charles. I fucking hate you.”

“I know,” he whispered as he held you closer and took each hit he more than deserved. “I hate me too.”

Part Five.

#charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #formula one imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you

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jjklvr9 · 3 months

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𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮

⇢ " 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘥 𝘯𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨; 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴, 𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘥 "

18+ minors dni !!

pairing: heeseung x older fem!reader (by a year)

genre: smut, slight romance

warnings: slight praising, mentions of blood, fingering, cursing, unprotected sex, do let me know if i missed anything!

wc: 5.3k

a/n: my first ever heeseung fic !! i have not been writing in a very long time so i'm kinda rusty and i'm trying a little different style of writing ;_; but! i still hope you all enjoy it <3

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

You often wondered if there was more out there for you. Something that would make your mind and nerves twist in excitement, something that’d make you yearn for more. Something that would never make you think twice about, something that wouldn’t obscure your thoughts with uncertainty and ‘what ifs’.

A deep sigh escapes your lips as you shake your head, aiming to clear your mind. It's time to focus on getting that pending work done so you can relish in the relief of passing in bed. It was a Friday night after all.

It’s been a year since you graduated from university and the momentary happiness of completing a goal you’ve set flushed away when you began your first new job. The pay wasn’t too bad and it was the only way you’ve been guided to headstart on a career. Head start your life more so. You were beyond glee when you read the acceptance email, calling around your family members and best friends to tell them the good news. Yay! You’re finally earning money and doing something. The excitement didn’t last long, for the first two weeks on the job already took a heavy toll on you. The countless meetings, paperwork, overtime. Not to mention the commute home on the bus was dreadful after a late night. It became a routine you despised, slowly killing you from the insides and sometimes it showed on your face.

Your life beyond the confines of work bore a striking resemblance. The majority of your friends were entangled in their own busy lives and careers, leaving little room for regular meetups. Furthermore, your family resided inconveniently in an entirely different city, making it impractical for you to freely come and go as you pleased. Not that you’d have the energy to do so anyway. On most of your days off, you found yourself indoors, indulging in the solace of leisurely idleness. There was nothing better than being able to sleep without the expectation of an alarm blaring to wake you up too early in the morning for your liking.

But it was also getting dull. You couldn’t deny that life was pretty dull. You were grateful most times, having the security of a job and home was everything that was enough. Though occasionally, you longed for more. More to feel what life and this world could present. Even for the tiniest second, you desired to feel something different.

9:30 pm. Finally, you turn your laptop off for the night and raise your arms to stretch the extremely tautened muscles straining your shoulders. You’ve been working non-stop since your lunch break ended, dinner didn’t even occur to you till small growls churned in your stomach. Packing up your things, you decided to head down to the convenience store in the building before leaving to catch your bus ride home. Maybe some onigiri or a bento box would suffice.

Treading into the well-lit store, the cashier welcomes you with a smile along with the rush of the cold draft from the air conditioner hitting your skin at once. That woke you up a bit, forgetting how cold it would be in actuality outside of this building. It was winter after all. Your eyes survey through the food section, set on that last tuna mayo-flavoured rice ball before extending your hand to pick it off the shelves; when another hand seemed to beat you to it. This interaction caused you to jolt a little on your feet, waking you up fully now as your eyes dilated slightly at the man standing beside you. His hand was still next to yours by the shelves, only his successfully holding onto the onigiri.

“Oh, sorry. Did you want this?” he asks softly, or rather he seemed, apologetic with his eyes staring back into yours. “It’s fine...I’ll just..” you trail on, glancing back at the array of rice balls before aimlessly picking another. “take this one.” The man blinks instantly in surprise, you can tell, but what about you weren’t sure. “Y/n?” with your name slipping out of his voice, your eyes widened once again and this time you were surprised. What?

“You are..?” Not wanting to confirm straight off the bat just in case it was a stalker danger situation or something, you crease your eyebrows in question. “It’s me, Heeseung. From the basketball team.” Heeseung…Heeseung? Oh. Right. Heeseung. Once his facial features registered in your fatigued brain, recollections of university life played in your mind like a movie trailer. Were you truly this depleted that you didn't recognize this earlier? Unbelievable.

You knew him briefly through your group of friends who were also part of the basketball team, glimpsing him in the socials and games you attended, merely ever acknowledging each other with “heys” and greeting smiles. Heeseung was a year younger than you but it was hard to tell with his domineering height and build. Despite his rapport with your closest friends, you two never seemed to escalate the acquaintanceship. Yet, there was always a subtle exchange of prolonged glances between you two. You often notice his gaze and you'd find yourself looking back at him. His captivating charm and attractive features were no secret to anyone, and you were well aware of the magnetic allure he possessed around people. Well, those glances held no deeper meaning; they were just moments, fleeting and devoid of any significance, or so you believed.

“Ah…Heeseung. I didn’t realise it was you with your hair all black now. Sorry, my brain is kind of fried..” you convey with a slight smile, mixed with comfort and apology. It had only been a full year and a half since you last saw him, at one of the parties the basketball team threw before a big game. It was apparent he changed; grew a few more inches and his shoulders looked larger too. Black strands covered some of his eyes now, which differed the most drastically from the blonde he used to have. He looked really good even sporting in just a hoodie and sweatpants, you couldn’t refute that. Heeseung lets out a chuckle, taking the onigiri from your hand and strides his way to the cashier without another word. “Oh?” was all you could say, flickering your eyes in surprise as you followed him. “You don’t have to! I should be the one buying.” He chuckles once again; never realised his voice sounded temperate either. As he thanks the cashier and hands you the plastic bag filled with the tuna-flavoured rice ball you wanted initially and an extra orange juice, a smile curves up his lips. You thanked him quietly and showed a smile back, both of you now walking out of the store into the cold air of the night.

The darkness encompassed your surroundings, yet the glow of the streetlights and moon shine compensated for the lack of clear sight. “Hey, you didn’t have to..you know. But thank you again Heeseung. I should pay you back though..” The man looks at you with the same smile still plastered on his face, his hand pushing back his hair slightly. “Instead of paying me back, why don’t we grab a bite sometime?” Did he just ask me out? No, he’s just being friendly.

You weren’t certain if you were more exhausted than you thought, but you sensed a slight leap in your heart. You weren't exactly unnerved by the inquiry, but it certainly deviated from the norm for you, especially now that you're fully engrossed in the corporate grind. Work accumulated on too much of your life and mind, as well as on people around you that nobody ever had any time to do such things. Sure, you’ve been asked out for lunch and coffee, sometimes even dinner with a colleague but this felt different.

“Oh, yeah, okay.” you weren’t sure on how to react, nodding your head along with your words. You were shy. Heeseung chortles once again, noting this obvious expression from you. “Tomorrow sound good? Here, give me your number.” He says, passing you his phone. Was he always this straightforward? He did seem the type to be but encountering it first-hand was heating your ears and cheeks. You hope he doesn’t realise this, assuming it was from the cold. Nodding slowly in agreement with his suggestion, you take the phone from his hand and fill in your contact information. For some reason, your phone number seemed scrambled up in your head, causing you to doubt if you're even keying in the right digits. Saving it and handing the phone back to him, you retained your eyes on his. The sound of the bus huffing to a stop nearby broke your gaze, realising it was your ride home for the night. “Okay well I um, I have to catch that.” you tried not to sound awkward, pointing at the bus a few steps away as you took some in that direction slowly. “Ah, alright, I’ll text you!” Heeseung graced you with yet another warm smile, this time radiating even more brightness than before. He watches as you get on the bus and settle on a seat in the back, waving slightly when your eyes look out the window to him. You wave back as the bus drives off, his silhouette gently fading away into the obscurity of the night. It had been quite a memorable evening for you, as the sight of an old familiar face reignited something within you, much like the gradual lustre of a dried-out candle; and indeed, the flames do begin to flicker and glow anew.

As sunlight sifts through the curtains and gently tickles your face, its warmth prompts a soft, contented whirr to escape your lips as you continue to slumber peacefully. If that wasn’t enough to wake you, the buzzing sound of your phone sure did. It was a quiet Saturday morning, or rather, afternoon, considering the clock struck 12 pm. At this hour, the stillness persisted, and you were expecting a respite from incoming messages. Everybody was either too occupied catching up on their sleep and lives, but you’d forgotten there was a new number soon to be added to your contacts. Seizing it from the side table, you open one eye to take a peek at the notification illustrated on the screen before opening both in surprise. Perhaps even excitement, reading the words out loud in your head.

“Good morning Y/N :) Heeseung here.”

A bashful smile began to play on the corners of your lips, and your cheeks blushed once more at the mere thought of the text. The fact that he probably just woken up too to text you ‘Good morning’ at this hour; the fact texting you was the first thing he did when he woke up. You swiftly replied, not forgetting to replicate the smiley face he added to his good morning text. Within a few minutes, your phone buzzed again, leaving you no space to bask in the joy of having received that initial message.

“I hope you rested well :) What are your plans for the day?”

There's that smiley face again. Why did he have to message you like that? Such simple words yet they made your smile grow bigger. You turned your body to the other side, back facing the window now with your legs wrapped around the bolster. It felt like reliving high-school days being a young girl in love, smiling and giggling as you read the exchanged messages between you and your crush. You weren't entirely certain if your feelings for this boy amounted to a crush just yet, but there was an undeniable sense of something growing within you.

Heeseung was sweet, and he was really funny. It’s around 5 pm now, having been texting each other the whole day with a dinner plan for the night, you found yourself giggling once again as you read the joke he made this time. All you managed to do today was eat lunch and take a shower, with half the other time spent typing your fingers away on your phone. Over the course of a few hours, the bond between you two clicked instantly and deepened, ease and comfort settling enough for Heeseung to have flirted a little bit here and there. You did appreciate his gestures, noting his flirtatious manner, which leaned more towards showering you with compliments and engaging in innocent teasing. Glancing at the time once more, you figured it was time to get ready for the dinner he had planned for the both of you.

Gazing at your reflection one final time in the mirror, a smile graces your lips as you adjust your flared-sleeve top and skirt to perfection. The sound of your phone ringing caught you off guard, stumbling a little as you hurriedly put on your jacket and picked it up. “Hey, I’m outside.” Heeseung sounded like he was smiling over the phone, the hint of excitement couldn’t be missed from his tone. An involuntary smile finds its way to your lips, peeking through the window to see him standing outside with his back resting against his car; dressed handsomely in a pair of loose black pants, matching it with a black collared shirt and jacket. God, even in simple clothing or dressed up, Heeseung always looked good. Despite hours of conversation, a flutter of nervousness still lingered within you. Heart beating louder and quicker with every step closer you took to him, the sight of his glinting eyes seemed to relax you.

Breathe. It’s just Heeseung.

“You’re so pretty.” He blurts out as you become clearer in his line of sight; and with the subtle reddening of his cheeks, you discern that he hadn't intended to express it so candidly. He blinks slowly as if he was coming back from a daze, clearing his throat. “Come on, let's go.” the boy says, opening the car door with one hand and the other leading you to get in. What a gentleman.

“Y-you look really good too.” Did you just stutter? Pursing your lips in embarrassment, you tried to save face by giving a small smile. Cute, he thought and as usual he chuckled in response. The ride to the restaurant turned out to be less awkward than anticipated, and as the night unfolded, you discovered yourself becoming more and more comfortable in his company, easing into the evening with each passing moment. Engaging in conversation, you delve into the recounting of shared experiences in university and reminisce about mutual friends, weaving a tapestry of memories and connections. Diving deeper, you navigate through a multitude of topics, slipping past the surface to explore more facets of each other's lives. Amidst soft laughter that punctuates the conversation, you discover that there's an inexhaustible well of things to talk about with each other.

In that fleeting time, everything felt perfect and your heart did the leap once more. Whenever there was a minute of silence between the two of you, Heeseung would look up to you with a smile, reaching his hand out across the table to hold onto yours. You found yourself pondering whether he might be experiencing the same nervousness as you, despite his outwardly composed and confident demeanor. Yet, every now and then, you caught a slight flush creeping up to the tips of his ears, offering a glimpse into his inner thoughts.

Nothing could’ve beat the night you had, if you had to compare it with all the others you spent rotting alone at home in your bed. With everything running smoothly, what could go wrong? It felt like you two grew closer not just emotionally but physically as well, being cosy enough to hold hands as you walk out of the restaurant together now.

“Oh shit, I think I left my phone on the table.” Heeseung says, patting down his jacket and pant pockets a few times, apologising to you as he hurriedly walks back in. You giggle a little at his clumsiness, standing at the side of the restaurant waiting for him to come back. It was getting later in the night now, the cold air tingling down your skin making goosebumps rise. No amount of clothing or jackets was enough for the temperature that drops at night.

Bits of the evening kept replaying in your head and you couldn’t help but smile a little to yourself. It was yet to end until Heeseung sent you home but you were already reminiscing the time you shared. He surprised you in a way; with how effortless it was to talk to him, to share with him the things you’ve always had in mind. He made you feel accommodated and heard; like he really wanted to know you. Like he really wanted you to know him. There undoubtedly was a paradoxical sense that you and he had an enduring connection as if your souls had been intertwined for eternity. What took you so long to finally talk to him? It made you excited, knowing there would potentially be more of him in your life after this.

“You alone?” a slurred-out voice pulls you out of your thoughts, surprising you, even more, was the tall man standing in front of you now. He didn’t look too old, nor did he look too young, but he did look wasted. You were seemingly scared and decided not to pay any mind to the stranger, hoping he’d just walk away and stop bothering you; but to no luck, the man remained there. Pestering and being persistent in having a conversation, he started to annoy you. Annoy more than how scared you felt before. Annoyed about what's taking Heeseung so goddamn long to come back. Before you could muster the words to dismiss the man, he unexpectedly takes hold of your wrist, as if intending to lead you away. “Come, let's go get some drinks!”

“Let her go.” Tone harsh and low, Heeseung was evidently angry at the stranger bothering you. He made sure to be delicate, grabbing your waist to pull you off from the man’s grip and fall back close to his chest. “Who the fuck are you?” The stranger retaliates, puffing up his chest as if he were trying to scare Heeseung off. It would take more than just a little show to get him to back down from guarding you, not even a mere attempt at a punch in the face could. Heeseung scoffs in spite, unfazed at the hit; his own fist curling up to show the man how it was actually done. You gasp softly, being pushed to the sidelines as Heeseung lands his hard knuckles on the man’s face. It clearly did the damage he meant to, seeing how the man was now wincing and scurrying off in pain and curses. You felt a wave of relief wash over you as the dispute came to an abrupt end. “Heeseung, are you okay? Y-you’re bleeding!” A small red hue illuminates from the corner of his lips, quickly being licked off by his swift tongue. Though the bleeding continued to slowly seep through. “I’m fine if you’re fine. Let’s get you home.”

You weren’t going to lie, besides the worry you felt for Heeseung getting into a physical altercation, the sight of him all strong and protective like that kind of made your insides turn. In a good way. Never mind that he was younger, the fact he was protective towards you and even took out a hit for you; ten folds attractive in your eyes. The whole ride home remained shrouded in silence, with a subtle tension lingering in the air. His hand held yours firmly as he drove, a silent reassurance amidst the quiet unease. Caressing your hand with his thumb, indicating he was worried for your well-being and this soothed you immensely. Pulling up to your driveway, Heeseung turns to face you, hand still firmly clasped with yours.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that. I just didn’t want you to get hurt.” He starts, hanging his head down low as if he was ashamed to meet your eyes.

You give his hand a little tug, signalling him to ease up. “It’s okay. You’re the one who got hurt though..” unconsciously (or not, you weren’t even sure yourself anymore) your lips form a small pout, eyes wide focused on Heeseung’s face with slight glances at his bleeding lips. He notices this, and instead of wiping them off, Heeseung slowly leans his face closer to yours till your noses brush against each other and he pauses there. His breath wandered around the air near you, the warmth emanating from his body exuding into your skin and creating a calming closeness. His scent was undeniably pleasing and so close, the black strands of his hair softly poking on your own cheeks. Electrifying, both heartbeats getting louder and louder you could almost feel it claw its way out. You held your breath at that moment, fearful that any wrong move might cause the enchantment to disperse. You’ve never felt like this before, and you’d do whatever it takes to keep feeling it.

Your thighs seemed to rub against each other, warmth burgeoning in your stomach and extending downward. In one brisk second, Heeseung plants his lips onto yours and immediately you reciprocate. It felt tender and pacifying, radiating sincerity and solace.

You could feel the speck of passion pouring into your heart, flowers blooming as the garden grows. It grows, wilder with a pinch of fire now, as Heeseung pushes for more with how deep and harsher his lips felt. Your sanity erupts into a chaotic symphony, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all. His hands had seemed to find themselves on your bare thighs, gripping them like his life depended on it. Fingers tracing up your skin till it reaches the hem of your skirt, you feel it daringly push the fabric away and climb higher. With the soft touch of his finger on your now-soaked underwear, a soft moan escapes your lips. Your hands encircled his neck, drawing him nearer, the desire for more amplifying with each lingering touch of his piers. Heeseung pushes his tongue in at the brief parting of your lips, licking your cavern wet and continues to weave both of your tongues together, sucking on them ever so roughly.

Breaking the kiss, now messy and sloppy with saliva running down your jaw, you somehow felt your lips still parched. As if it were insufficient, leaving an unquenched longing for his flavour. Tracing your tongue on the edges of his crimson-covered lips, you sniffle a moan at the taste of him. Despite the tempting urge to nibble more onto them, you resisted, mindful of not wanting to inflict any more hurt upon him than he had already endured.

Inclining into him again, his finger resting on your underwear has started to make its movements; nice and slow. He rubs them in a circular motion; wanting to tease you a little bit more. You moan in between kisses, your own hands now gripping onto his shirt to tug and pull him closer, bodies pressing against each other. With that eagerness coming from you, Heeseung holds your underwear to the side with his thumb, pushing two fingers into your folds without breaking the kiss. You gasped at this, unconsciously biting onto his lower lip a little bit too hard than you intended. It created a little bloody mess, but nothing you couldn’t fix.

You tenderly murmur a soft apology, delicately licking away every trace of red left on his lips, seeking to soothe any discomfort.

“You’re such a good girl, cleaning up after your mess. My good girl.” the man coos under his breath, fingers pushing themselves further into you, accelerating the pace as the seconds go by. My good girl. There's that heart leap again. A fleeting moment of uncertainty crosses your mind as you ponder whether he expressed those words in the heat of the moment

or if he meant it, but the way he handled you and kissed you earlier seemed to pivot the pendulum towards it being honest. At least, that's what you wanted to believe.

The muffled sounds escaping you grow more pronounced, escalating in intensity with the hold on his shirt tightening within the grasp of your fingers shortly before they sneak downwards to the growing mound in his pants; gently but firmly grasping its contours. This prompted a hiss from him, his lips pressing even deeper into the yours than before.

You've never encountered such an exhilarating feeling like this, as Heeseung's firm fingers gradually heighten the vigour of euphoria seeping up your senses. "Ah, more..more."

The man smirks in response to your desperate plea, forcefully pushing his fingers deeper before withdrawing them completely. Dismayed at his retraction, your eyes fluttered as you leaned back from him, gasping for the breath you had momentarily lost.

"More what? What is it that you want, baby?"

With a raised eyebrow, he questions, attempting to suppress a grin that you catch in his expression. Ignoring the blush taking shape on the apples of your cheeks, you briefly scrutinise him; his shirt bore a charming dishevelment, his tousled hair adding a touch of allure, making him exceptionally more attractive in sight. The burgeoning bulge beneath your clammy palm subtly twitches, drawing your focus to its presence; making it known to you of his equal excitement at what you're about to say.

"I want you to fuck me, Heeseung. Please."

A groan escapes his lips in response to your words. Without uttering another sound, he withdraws from you and begins lowering his pants and boxers down to his thighs; springing out his ever-so-eager cock free. Damn, what a sight. Heeseung clearly overpacked on your anticipations in this department.

How much more pleasure could he bring you now, considering the sensations his fingers alone prompted? Your insides ignite further at this view, body flushing with heat and throat drying at the mere thought of how he would taste and feel inside of you.

"Like what you see?" With his grin no longer concealed, the man wastes no time in pushing his seat back to create space, pulling you up to straddle his lap, facing him. A loud grunt breaks free past his lips at the pressure, sending a thrill of giddiness through you. Each time his subtle noises reached your ears, it professed that you were doing something right, eliciting a sense of satisfaction for the pleasure you were giving him. "It's not even in yet." you giggle softly, pulling your own underwear down to your thighs. "Someone's impatient." Though he started with the tip of his erection gently brushing against your clitoris, he swiftly proceeded to thrust himself inside your entrance.

"Fuck."

Both of you utter the same word, yet in two distinct tones – yours emerging as a whine of pleasure, and his as a gratifying groan. The folds of your clit envelope him completely, with every quickening thrust he pushes in constricting yourself around his cock.

The strands of his hair, once framing his face, now clung damply to his forehead, hooded eyes barely peering through them yet intensely staring into your orbs. Countless thoughts inundated your mind under the weight of his intimate gaze, leaving you unable to focus on any single one. In this moment, concentration eluded you entirely; even the disbelief that Heeseung was pounding you out in his car right now. This is crazy. I'm crazy.

"Damn, you feel so fucking amazing." his hands wander underneath the back of your skirt, grabbing the flesh of your ass ever so roughly as it bounces up and down his stripped thighs. “Oh fuck me-faster please..!” you squirmed in painful ecstasy as the wetness of your gushing clit slides his erection in and out of your tightness with ease. Heeseung accelerates his pace even further, seemingly preempting your unspoken demands. With your hands wrapped around his neck, you pull his chest closer to brush the tip of your hardened nipples beneath your top, and that causes you to moan out his name. The heated boy buries his face in the crook of your neck now, leaving soft brushes of his tongue against your skin and sinks his teeth into them rough enough to leave distinct marks.

"You taste so fucking good too. You're just perfect." You hear his raspy voice mutter under his breath, face still grazing on the skin of your neck as if he was savouring your scent. Feeling the tip of his cock pushing itself exactly into your right spot, you whine out his name repeatedly. The back of your body arches, your toes curling at how hot the air stands; all sorts of emotions strike you at once as your sight goes blurry, mind growing hazier by the second.

"Mmhm..faster Heeseung. Your cock feels so good in me.” this time, you moan even louder, indicating that you were on the brink of reaching the climax of your high very soon. Heeseung took notice of this, quickening his thrusts as he was about to reach the same destination.

"Cum with me, baby. Together."

Hoarse, low groans escaped from his lips with each accelerated movement; the cry of pleasure lamented out both your breaths the moment he blew in one final deepened jab at your spot. A surge of warm fluid cascaded through you, blending seamlessly with your own essence, propelled by the sheer bliss you've just shared. The air was filled with the sounds of heavy, hurried breaths, your lungs working overtime. Your eyes remained fixed on Heeseung's face as you endeavoured to recover composure and catch your breath. Finally, a sense of clarity returned to you as your thoughts regained focus. Did that really just happen? Everything seemed surreal, as if plucked from a dream.

Somehow it appeared like he could read your mind when he laughed at your countenance, his hands now accommodating on your waist to pull himself out of you slowly. As you lean in, finding comfort by resting your head on his chest, the rhythmic thumping of his heart surrounds your ear. The sound was loud and hastened, almost palpably carrying the nervous anticipation in its rapid beat, reminiscent of your very first kiss together. Well, you've done so much more than that now. Freeing his hands from your waist, Heeseung tenderly cradles you with one arm while the other softly strokes your head, radiating care and affection in his touch. He showers your forehead with soft pecks, each one a tender expression of adoration, accompanied by whispered sweet confessions that linger in the air.

"You're really beautiful, I've always thought that."

You both stay like that for a while, reluctant to disrupt the intimacy you shared. However, the reality of your semi-nude state in the confines of a car eventually nudged you both to acknowledge that the moment couldn't last forever. Not right there. The unexpected series of events that unfolded tonight, stemming from your fateful meeting just the day before, had taken a turn you hadn't even considered viable with him. In retrospect, those exchanged glances at the parties and games back then seemed to carry a newfound meaning now. Life wasn't so dull anymore.

Gently disentangling yourself from his embrace, you meet his eyes once again before placing a tender kiss on his cheek. "Let's go inside." you chuckle, sliding off his lap and back to the passenger seat while fixing your clothes. In sync with your decision, Heeseung follows suit, concurring with the idea of heading back inside your house; as the rest of the night evolved with an abundance of conversation and lots and lots and lots of cuddles.

#enhypen #heeseung #lee heeseung #lee heesung x reader #heeseung smut #lee heeseung smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen x reader #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen smut #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #heeseung x reader

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copperbadge · 24 days

Text

Lately, it's felt like every time I've started to work on writing, I'll just be getting into the rhythm of it when I get interrupted, either by work or the cats or because the time I'd booked in the library study room is up (you can only do two hours at a time, and only four hours a week total). It was getting to the point where I kept re-reading the same chapter or so of previous work but never managing to add to it.

So I tried an experiment this past weekend -- I found a really cheap rate on a local hotel room, and on Friday I took an overnight bag and a very old laptop with limited processing power and checked into a room about a mile from home for a quasi "staycation". I unpacked and had a quiet night on Friday, as prelude to working Saturday-Sunday. The idea was to write uninterrupted by other people, pets, the presence of all my Stuff around me at home, et cetera.

I had snacks but I also bought meals out, which was nice; I don't often order in or buy out when I'm at home. The way I set up was that I would do fifty minutes of writing with do-not-disturb engaged on my phone and then ten minutes of checking email, texts, etc. since often what pulls me out of writing is a text or an email that needs answering, or the anxiety that I'm missing one that would. If I set it so that every hour I check, well, nobody's going to die if something doesn't get answered in an hour, so the anxiety isn't there, and neither is the distraction. (I found a nice app for this, review later depending on how functional it continues to be for me, but it's a like $4 app called Forest.)

It worked pretty well -- writing for an uninterrupted hour, as long as I know what I'm working on, is very functional for me. I average about two thousand words, that way, though there is a limit to the number of hours I can put in. I ended up doing two hours in the morning and one hour in the afternoon, then switched from fiction writing to clearing out my tumblr drafts and some correspondence for the fourth hour. So it went something like

Go out and get breakfast, bring back and eat in room

Change into lounging clothes and do two one-hour sessions

Go out and get lunch, eat lunch out

Bit of a rest break back in the room

Two one-hour sessions, one of writing; when tired, switch to something that requires less creativity

Go out and get dinner, bring back and eat in room

And then in the evening the plan was to watch movies or catch up on reading, but I ended up being mentally weary, so instead I did some simple tarot reading. It was less divination or even meditation than just messing around, keeping the creativity stimulated; I did a couple of Creative Writing spreads, some very brief divination spreads (I nicked a nice three-card spread here that I mentally call He To Hecuba, and just used it in general rather than for a specific question) and then invented a spread when I was starting to get irritated that the same like, five cards kept coming up, more on this in its own post.

Sunday I did one more writing session but it was less successful, I think partly because what I was writing required a lot of research and partly because the previous day I'd dumped eight thousand words into the file. (Research took longer because I brought the most garbage laptop known to man, and the browsers crash if you try to open Google Maps, but in other ways it was ideal since there wasn't much I could do on it other than write.) But I had a good breakfast, got some rest, packed up easily enough, and headed home just ahead of the rain storm.

I don't think it's something I'll be able to do in that format especially often, since the deal I got on the hotel was an anomaly and Chicago lodging, even just AirBNB stuff, is stupid expensive. But in addition to helping get some work done it was a nice break, so I'm going to look into ways I could swing it on a perhaps monthly basis, or some other way to cheaply spend an entire day alone with decent access to a bathroom/snacks and a way to come and go easily. I've looked into coworking spaces before but they tend to be prohibitively expensive and don't really have the setup I'd prefer; there's a hostel on the north side with private rooms that I might try out but it doesn't seem significantly cheaper than a hotel. I might just have to pick one weekend a month and watch last-minute hotel price cuts where they simply want to fill a room for a day or two.

Anyway, functionally I wrote almost a fifth of a novel this weekend, and one that I wasn't feeling super on fire about; I'm feeling much better about it now that I've got some established plot going and I feel like I "know" the newer characters a bit better. (Also I'm enjoying writing Simon as someone who is absolutely entranced by his love interest and clueless that what he's feeling isn't mild antipathy because they met while fighting over ricotta.) So it was a big help, although if I were to put a budget line item in the Extribulum Press ledger for "writing staycation" it would wipe out my royalties surplus very quickly.

#writing #shivadhverse

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blue-jisungs · 7 months

Text

childish honesty

author's note. okay phew this has been rotting in my drafts since JULY??? the main reason of not posting was literally no idea for the title bye. anyways i hope you enjoy, esp you @l3visbby since this is the chan work i’ve been talking about 💀

big shout out to my beloved @planetkiimchi for proofreading, ilysm and thank you so so much <3 i really appreciate it 🥹

summary. there’s a cute guy who’s literally perfect. everything starts to work out when your little secret comes out // or in which you always adored children’s honesty but fail to do the same

summary. 7894

warnings. swearing, alcohol consumption + one scene in a club but nothing too wild, mention of cheating. a bit angsty :) chan is a bit of an ass but then again, he kind of has a reason….. + some cameos <3

biting the inside of your cheek deep in thought, your friend – jeongyeon – noticed you’re drifting away. tapping the back of your hand gently, warm smile on her lips. your other friend, jihyo, scoffed.

“and you’re gone again… don’t tell me he’s on your mind” she sighed dramatically. a blush crept on your face since you were caught.

“girl, you were supposed to relax! clear your head! go wild!” jeongyeon grunted and broke into a mischievous giggle “well, the last one is for later”

“we know you love him but please, stop thinking about him. for once…” jihyo pouted “i’ll get jealous!”

“okay, you know i love you both” you smiled, grabbing their hands “i’m sorry. you know how it is”

“well… we don’t. but we understand, we know what you’ve been through. that’s why you need a break” jeongyeon said and jihyo nodded in agreement “aaaand we need to find you a new man”

“huh?” you blinked, reaching for your coffee cup.

“oh come on, don’t act like you don’t understand” jihyo winked and you almost choked on the hot beverage. the action made your friends laugh “what?! that’s not what i meant…” you grunted but your reaction spoke for yourself.

“now that i think about it… jihyo, do you remember chan? from our company? he’s in another department but he’s the manager, you should know him” jeongyeon hummed, tapping her fingers against her coffee cup. you stole a glance at your phone. no one texted you.

“of course i do! i love chan, he’s so cute and good in what he does… wait” the corners of jihyo’s lips curled into a mischievous smile “oh…”

“oh indeed” jeongyeon smirked, both of them slowly looking at you.

“what?” you asked and your attention was quickly dismissed when your phone buzzed. the girls in front of you exchanged sly looks with each other and nodded in agreement.

“okay! let’s go to my place and change up, hm? it’s friday night, i already thought of a party plan” jihyo smacked the table energetically and stood up from the seat, going over to pay for the coffee.

“where does she get this energy from…” you murmured as you texted back. jeongyeon smiled and stood up too, waiting for you.

“yeah… no…” you grunted, swirling the drink in your hand. squeezing your phone between your cheek and your arm, you looked for your lipgloss hidden somewhere in the bag.

you wanted to finish talking before your friends come back with even more drinks. it was hard to hear jooyeon’s rambles due to the loud music booming in the club.

“‘m sorry, can you speak a bit louder?” you asked and managed to find your lipgloss “or just…”

“y/n!” you heard jihyo’s shouts

“sorry, baby, i need to go!” you said

“but…” jooyeon whined and you sighed apologetically.

“i’ll call you in the morning, okay?” you hummed and were met with a soft, sad hmpf. quickly hanging up, you pretended to use your phone as a mirror while holding the lipgloss.

“we’re back, ta-dam!” jeongyeon put the drinks on the table and shot you a suspicious glance “do you even see anything?”

“no… not really” you giggled and put your phone down, gulping down your previous drink “i’ll be right back!”

entering the bathroom you felt a sinking feeling in your stomach. you really shouldn’t have hung up so early. what if it was important? what if he needed help… what if he needed you?

quickly fixing your lipgloss, you shook your head. you shouldn’t think about it so much. the girls went out with you to have fun so just for a night you could forget about him, right?

after hiding the lipgloss in your mini bag; zipping it so the small electric guitar keychain dingled gently, you left the bathroom.

right away you felt your legs tripping or just the impact of someone bumping into you, you weren’t sure. before you could fall, a surprised yelp reached your ears and two hands held you sturdily by your waist.

“i’m sorry, i should have watched where i was going” a male voice rung in your ears, causing you to squirm away from his hold. he let go, shaking his head “sorry”

“that’s okay, it was my fault too” you nodded and looked at his face. the red neon lights in the club didn’t help you in analysing his features but from what you saw now, he was handsome. his mouth opened and you could sense he’d apologise again but suddenly jihyo’s favourite song came on.

you just nodded for the second time and turned around, the man’s gaze following you – unbeknownst to you.

quickly joining your friends you went to the dance floor, finally starting to relax and temporarily forget about your worries.

arriving at your place, head pumping like crazy, you slowly opened the front door. it was around 10am, saturday morning. quietly entering the kitchen and painfully slowly opening the upper cabinet so it doesn’t creak—

“mom is back!”

you sighed. mission failed.

turning around with a smile you were met with jooyeon’s body launching at you.

“easy there” you giggled and last minute kneeled down, so he could hug you properly. his small hands wrapped around your neck, lips smooching your cheek “missed me that much?”

“duh! it’s boring without you!” jooyeon grinned cheekily and leaned away. then you registered someone leaning over the kitchen counter.

“jooyeonnie, could you maybe pick up the toys in the living room? quick, so mom won’t see the mess” the feminine voice was gentle and soft, as always.

“oh shoot, the toys!” jooyeon yelled out, causing you to scrunch your face. as he ran out of the room, you stood up and sent yuna a warm smile.

“thank you…” you sighed, grabbing a glass of water

“i can see the party was nice” she giggled, observing you “do you need me to stay longer? it’s not…”

“no, absolutely not. i already asked you for too much… but thank you so much” you shook your head as a no, putting the mini bag on the countertop.

yuna was jooyeon’s babysitter. she was a first year university student so the deal was great for three of you: jooyeon loved her (and vice versa), she got to earn some money and you had the opportunity to spend your time with friends or stay overtime without any stress. but hey! it was friday, today it’s saturday and yuna, such a young and lovely girl, definitely shouldn’t miss out on her free time on you two. plus your hangover.

“i’ve got this” you nodded and handed her the cash. she looked at you worried, then stealing a glance at jooyeon who already got distracted with something else.

“if you need anything please let me know…” yuna smiled politely.

“i need you to rest now” you chuckled and patted her arm “i’ve got this, really. have a nice day, yuna. jooyeon, say bye to aunt yuna!”

“bye bye!” he yelled out and ran up to her, grinning and reaching his hand out. they did a high five and yuna left, a sweet smile on her lips. to think she was one year younger than you when jooyeon— “where were you?” jooyeon crossed his hands and cocked an eyebrow, watching you. finishing your water you started looking for some medicine.

“with auntie jihyo and jeongyeon…” you started slowly, trying to focus and figure out what to say “… having a fun time. girls’ night out, you know?”

“mhm…” he hummed, dark irises glued to you “then why do you smell so… gross?”

you scoffed, the package with painkillers dropping from some hidden spot behind glasses.

“we were dancing and having drinks… and when i left, aunties were still sleeping so i didn’t want to wake them up with the loud shower” you explained, taking the meds “is it that bad?”

“yeah. take a shower, you stink” jooyeon ordered and turned around, happily going back to the living room and whatever he was doing with the play-dooh. kids are so honest, don’t you just love them?

following his orders you showered, fighting your eyelids. oh a nap… nap would be great right now.

leaving the bathroom, already in your comfy clothes, you shuffled slowly to find jooyeon. he was scribbling something in a colouring book.

“i think i’ll take a nap, joo. wanna go with me?” you asked quietly. his eyes lit up and he dropped the crayons, grabbing your hand instead

“of course, let’s go!” he exclaimed, leading you to your bedroom. jooyeon was old enough to sleep in his own bed but if he had the chance to sleep with you… on the biiiig bed… there’s no way he’d miss it for the world.

soon enough you were falling asleep with mr wolfy, jooyeon’s plushie, by your side.. and nugget, his another plushie. and five other plushies. and, above all, with your son snuggled comfortably next to you.

chan typed furiously, engrossed in his task. he didn’t even realise when felix walked into the room.

“hey, chan?”

he looked up, taken aback.

“what’s up?” chan asked, smiling softly. his features softened, looking at felix’s pensive face.

“see, i was talking to jihyo… you know, the other manager…” felix started. chan nodded — obviously he knew her. they meet once a month at the monthly evaluation “do you happen to be willing to go on a blind date?”

chan froze, eyes widening. he let out a nervous laugh, scratching his head.

“what is this about?” he asked, felix breaking into a smile.

“well you’re single, right? and apparently jihyo has a friend… so we just thought…” felix drifted off and took a deep breath “listen, i know i’m in no place to say it. but you’re my friend, we’ve known each other for years. and i feel like you should give it a shot. just once”

“but…” chan started, still not fully realising what’s going on

“don’t worry about it, i’m sure you’ll do well. literally everyone likes you, you know? me and jihyo can set up the date, just let me know if… that’s okay” felix breathed out, smiling softly. chan looked down and shook his head, shrugging.

“okay. just this once and only because you’re so kind about it” he scoffed. felix’s face lit up, eyes sparkling with joy.

“really?” he asked in shock. chan looked back at him and smiled

“really. but while you’re so euphoric, don’t forget to send me those audio files of the songs, okay?” chan dead serious. his friend nodded enthusiastically, leaving the room.

what the hell did he just agree to…?

fidgeting with his fingers chan stared at the people in the café. it was cozy, cutely decorated and full of plants. it’s not like he wasn’t here before, it was his friend’s cafe – seungmin’s. he knew all the staff, he was there to help with the decor and all. hell, he often worked there on his laptop with headphones in, in his own world (even though seungmin hated when he did that, apparently he scared the customers away)

he took a deep sigh and looked over at the counter. seungmin along with his two workers, momo and minho sent him thumbs up. of course, they knew about the date, felix had told them.

the door opened and he looked up, excited and nervous at the same time. his features dropped once he noticed it was an elder lady. letting out a scoff he checked the time. well, he was the one who was a bit earlier. would you be on time? or show up at all? he was thinking about–

“excuse me? are you chan?”

he looked up, blinking slowly. oh wow. you… you looked stunning.

“oh. yeah. yeah, that’s me” he nodded and stood up, reaching his hand out “y/n, i assume? jihyo’s friend?”

“yes” you smiled and shook his hand, sitting down “did you wait long?”

“oh, no… not really” he scratched his neck, glancing at his friends. they all sent him thumbs up “here’s the menu…”

“thank you. oh wow, the choices are…” you giggled nervously, reading all the drink and dessert descriptions. jooyeon would definitely like strawberry boom, whatever that was.

“i know, right?” chan tilted his head and adored your features. when jihyo said you’re pretty, he didn’t give it a much thought. he’d say the same thing about felix or his other friends too. but you… you were really angelic. and your smile was so sweet, he never wanted to see it disappear– “hm?”

“i’ll just go for an americano for now” you said and looked up “what about you?”

“i’ll get the strawberry cake, it’s really good. well, actually my friend owns the cafe so…” chan mumbled “… um, yeah. depends what you like, the lemon muffin is good too!”

“okay, if you recommend it then i’ll take it” you shot him a smile and before you could walk up to the counter, someone arrived at the table. your eyes widened upon seeing momo, a friend of jeongyeon’s. you talked a couple of times, she’s really nice but you didn’t know she worked here. in fact, didn’t she work at some dance studio…?

“hi, can i take your order?” she asked sweetly. chan’s gaze was focused on you. it warmed your heart because, well… momo was gorgeous. and he chose to look at you? a small thing but still…

“yes, i’ll take the strawberry cake and espresso. and for this beautiful lady, americano and lemon muffin” chan said, sending you a boyish smile. momo nodded

“iced or warm?” she asked you, winking.

“iced, please” you hummed and realised you still have your purse hung over your arm. momo walked away and you took the purse off, hanging it on the back of the chair.

“sorry if i’m awkward, i haven’t been on a date in a while” you chuckled and noticed chan’s gazed glued to your purse.

“the keychain” he hummed, pointing at it. you grabbed your purse and showed him the electric guitar keychain that was attached to the zipper “it’s cute”

“thank you. it’s a gift from a family member, i carry it everywhere” you hummed and watched chan’s eyes widen.

“were you perhaps at a party last week?” he asked, giggling when your face turned into shock while nodding “oh! so this is the mystery person i bumped into”

“what?!” you laughed loudly, uncontrollable grin plastered on your face “no way! i didn’t see your face then…”

“well me too but i remembered the guitar chain. i’m kind of a music freak… well, i do music for passion and work so it just… it just caught my eye” chan hummed, pointing at the item again “do you play?”

“oh, i used to when i was younger. and then boom, adult life, work, uni… i had to sell it to make ends meet. so, sadly, not anymore” you explained and nodded your head slowly. it was true.

however, a fact was that jooyeon gave it to you. well, he bought it somewhere when he was on a trip with his kindergarten. music ran in his veins ever since he was little. you still have those cute videos when he was younger and used pot lids as drum plates–

“–for a living?” chan’s question brought you back to life. momo arrived and placed your orders. letting out a small, amazed gasp you took out your phone to snap a picture. you’d show it later to jooyeon. maybe one day you could visit the café with him.

“i work in corpo. numbers, numbers and numbers. i wanna change my job but eh… is it worth the risk?” you answer and your life flashes in front of your eyes when your wallpaper appears on your phone.

obviously, it’s your son but you hoped chan didn’t see it. so you try to act like nothing happened: “this muffin is so cute i need to take a picture”

“honestly, understandable. if it wasn’t my millionth time here, i’d snap pics too” he hummed and realised that ever since you exchanged greetings, he would not stop smiling.

“done! ah, yours looks appetising too” you nod, the big strawberry on his cake as red as the guitar on your keychain.

as you two dive into the desserts, you continue your conversation. you’re surprised to come to a conclusion that after such a long time of not having dates, you weren’t stressed. and… you’re having fun?

jooyeon was doodling something next to you with his tongue stuck out while you were in the phone with jihyo and jeongyeon.

“so?! how was it?!” the former practically yelled, causing your son to look up curiously. he twirled his small pointer finger next to his temple and muttered “she’s crazy”, causing you to scoff and pat his head.

“weeell… it was nice. chan himself is veery handsome but also, so kind? it is a little suspicious now that i think about it” you hummed, subconsciously smiling at your son

“noo, please! we’ve known him for a while and trust me, this man doesn’t have a single bad bone in his body. a green flag, if you will” jengyeon whined “tell us more though!”

“well, we talked… had a nice dessert… and talked more. oh and also, we were at the café momo works at!” you said and stood up, going somewhere distant so jooyeon wouldn’t hear your next words

“we know, we did this on purpose so she could tell us the truth in case you ran away or something…” jihyo laughed, causing you to scoff “and girl! she told us you two just wouldn’t shut up! she said she could feel the chemistry from all the way over there”

a blush crept at your cheeks. was is that visible? he’s just… so cute. and smart. and funny. and–

“did you tell him?” jeongyeon cut in, long silence meeting her question. you could hear the heavy sigh she left “y/n–“

“i know but i panicked! it’s like a biggest turn off for a guy, no? like personally, i’d run away” you mumbled looking over at joo engrossed in his task, swinging his feet and humming happily “i’ll tell him next time, i promise”

“you better. WAIT, NEXT TIME?!” jihyo yelled out and all you could hear were squeals and screams. jooyeon jumped off the chair and grabbed the paper sheet he was drawing on

“yes, next time. we’re having a second date next week and he gave me his number” you squealed too, unable to control the excitement. jooyeon grinned and run up to you, handing you the paper with anticipation.

he drew both of you with guitars in your hands. well, you were also holding hands. a lot of hearts and something that looked like a wolf in the corner. there was also a big, crooked but colourful ‘for my beatifull mommy’.

you leaned down and pressed a kiss onto his forehead.

“thank you, my little rockstar. i love you” you hummed, deciding to ignore the typo he made. it’s the gesture that counts.

the next date was a surprise. chan texted you to meet at their company, and because you work close, you agreed. he told you you two would drive for an hour, but he promised it’d be worth the wait.

leaving jooyeon with yuna (who complimented your outfit from head to toe, as if she was the one taking you on said date), you were off.

you arrived at the jyp building, almost pretty sure that jeongyeon and jihyo were watching you somewhere from their offices.

chan was standing there, in his suit and tie loosened a bit with a bouquet of fresh flowers in his hand. you gasped and that caught his attention, turning around.

“oh, you’re here!” he smiled brightly. approaching him, you noticed the flowers were probably a picked set; petals mostly white and in pink shades “this is for you~”

“oh… oh wow. i’m… woah, thank you” you smiled widely, warmth spreading across your body. you couldn’t remember the last time a man gave you flowers (except jooyeon, every year on mother’s day… and literally every time he saw a pretty flower and picked it) “they’re are really beautiful”

“i know, right? i thought about you when i saw them but… you’re prettier” chan smiled cheekily and blood rushed to your cheeks. mumbling a quiet, almost incoherent ‘thank you’ he giggled, pointing at something “my car is parked over there. i didn’t think this through though because there’s no water. hopefully the flowers won’t dry out”

“even if they do, i’ll keep them. dried petals really have their own charm” you hummed, smelling them. you followed chan to his car and he opened the door for you with a charming smile. the vehicle itself was way bigger and more expensive than your own. and way more comfortable. and clean. well, chan probably didn’t have a messy five year old to begin with so maybe that’s why. or maybe he’s just a neat man who likes his environment clean and squeaky? that would be nice but then again, with jooyeon nothing ever is clean.

the drive went fast, way too fast. maybe because there was not a moment of dull conversation with chan and you were truly enjoying yourself. in fact, you didn’t even notice when you arrived at a parking. it was surrounded by tall grass, preventing you to see what’s around.

you left the car, leaving the flowers on your seat and chan joined your side.

“so… how’d you meet jihyo and jeongyeon?” he asked, genuinely curious. you followed him and noticed a beach. letting out a small gasp you took off your shoes, grabbing them in your free hand. chan did the same, leaving your left hand and his right one free.

“well… i had a boyfriend in high school. and one day a girl came up to me and gently explained that she thinks my boyfriend is dating someone else. i was surprised, to say at least and i didn’t even want to believe her. but she was like “girl, you need to believe me! let’s talk to his other girlfriend”… so we did. we realised it makes sense, the girl even showed us pictures she took” you giggled at the memory, suddenly – for a brief moment – feeling how his hand brushes against yours “the girl was jihyo, the other girlfriend was jeongyeon. we decided we want to expose him. in the meantime we asked jihyo why she’s helping us and she told us that he asked her out! can you believe it?”

“what a dickhead” chan grunted, amused smile dancing on his lips. he was listening to you, eyes adoring your face.

“i know, right?” you chuckled and when your hands brushed again, you noticed how the tips of his ears turned pink. cute. “so we exposed him, when he was on a ‘date’ with jihyo. we were sixteen so we just, you know… publicly said this and that. i think jihyo told her friends and the word spread he’s a pathetic liar. but our friendship stayed”

“oh woah. i thought it was just like, clicking after working on a project together but this was way more than i could imagine” he laughed and you joined him.

“yeah, it’s an unusual story. how about you? i’m guessing you met her through work stuff?” you tilted your head.

“mhm, exactly. when i was picked as a manager she congratulated me. then we just started meeting at the monthly meetings for managers and chatted during the breaks” he said and then shook his head “with all due respect, enough about jihyo. i wanna know something about you”

“well, what would you like to know?” you hummed.

while you took a walk, chatting about his career, your passions and his travels, the sun set beautifully at the horizon. once the pastel pinks and oranges morphed into navy sky, stars peeking one by one, you decided to return back to the car.

and that’s when you realised chan lost the shoes he was holding. trying to look for it, which was hard not only due to the darkness but also the uncontrollable laughter you two couldn’t contain, you still chatted. that’s when you found out he’s from australia (“oh woah, i always wanted to go there!”) and that he has a dog, berry. just when you said that you were thinking of getting a dog too (well, more like jooyeon wanted a puppy), chan found his shoes.

they were in the sand, waves moving them around. just as he was about to take them, water came. chan yelped, giggling and backing off. you followed him but then realised the shoes were being taken away by the sea. since you had on a sundress and he was in pants, you decided to walk into the water to grab them.

“no, y/n!” chan called but you were already almost knee deep, taking his shoes. you showed them to him and walked up, scratching your head.

“uhm… i don’t think they’ll be useful anymore” you grunted and before you gave him the shoes, chan took off his blazer. placing it slowly on your arms, he took the wet shoes.

“we’ll see. thank you though, you didn’t have to” he laughed.

only when you entered the car, did you realise how late it had gotten. you texted yuna that you’d be back in an hour and offered for her to sleep at your place. she didn’t read the message, so you assumed she might be already asleep.

chan was so kind as to drop you off right at your doorstep. stepping out of the car, he walked you to the door with a shy smile. the flowers in your hand dried a bit but maybe, hopefully, you’d be able to save them.

“thank you for today” you said with a soft smile, slowly walking up to the door “i had a really fun time”

“me too. seriously, i enjoy spending time with you” chan hummed, his hands behind his back. you had a feeling he wanted to say something else

“the beach was really pretty as well. and thank you for the flowers, i’ll try to bring them back to life” a chuckle left your lips and he grinned “if… uhm…”

“we can do this again sometime” he caught on and smiled boyishly “i’m open to suggestions what fo you want to do next time”

“well, i’ll think about it. and… good night, chan. drive safe and sleep well” you said slowly and took a deep breath before quickly pecking his cheek. chan’s ears turned red as you put in the code to the staircase.

“g-good night, y/n!” he stuttered quickly as you walked in. sending him a warm smile before you went to the elevator, off you were.

chan checked if you’re really gone and started giggling like crazy, fingers gently caressing the spot you placed a kiss on.

during your third date with chan, after texting him all the time you decided to go to the cinema. you paid in advance for the tickets when you decided to see oppenheimer (only because you’ve already seen barbie with your friends). laughing at chan’s reaction when he realised, he promised to pay next time.

but in the middle of the movie you got a phone call. you’d decline it but as soon as you noticed it’s jihyo (because she was staying with jooyeon today), you rushed out of the room telling chan you’re going to the bathroom.

“yes? what’s happening?” you asked as soon as you left, going to sit at the nearby bench.

“pfff… one phone call and you already assume something is happening. well, actually right now…” jihyo started and your heart dropped when you heard jooyeon crying in the background.

“jihyo. what happened?” you hissed, anxiously gripping your knee.

“well, i don’t really know. i was watching the news and doing some paperwork while he was jooyeoning in the background, when suddenly he started crying. i checked if he hurt himself, nothing. he won’t tell me why, he won’t hug me… i don’t know what to do. he told me not to call you but i’m getting nervous” jihyo said and you could tell by the speed of her speech. taking a deep breath, you nodded.

“hand the phone to joo, please” you breathed out and soon you heard your son’s choked sobs. “jooyeonnie?”

“mom…” he sniffled and suddenly started yelling “you’re a liar! you’re gonna leave me just like daddy did! you– you–! i hate you–!”

“hey, hey… calm down, joo. what’s going on? mommy is never going to leave you” you whispered, heart shattering. what is going on?

“you will! you’re a liar! and you’ll leave auntie yuna and auntie jihyo and– and auntie jeongyeon too! you’re a bad, ugly liar” jooyeon started hyperventilating, sobs and cries only audible on the other side of the phone

“jooyeonnie… i’d never leave you, i promise! mommy will be back in a second, alright? do you want me to buy you a snack on my way home? anything you want, my precious baby” you cooed, heart thumping in your chest. did someone say something in the kindergarten?

silence. long silence.

“dino nuggets…” jooyeonnie murmured, sniffling again.

“got it. i’ll be back in ten minutes, dear” you gulped, standing up “love you so much. i’ll be back soon, hold on okay?”

you hung up and hid your phone back in your bag. running your hands through your hair as your mind raced. what happened? who made joo think this way? why–

“y/n?”

you looked up and saw chan walking your way. great.

“are you okay? i got worried, you…” he stopped, smile dropping “you’re pale, did something happen?”

yes. your son – about who you didn’t tell him yet – is bawling his eyes out at home, god knows why. and you’re terrified. parenting books didn’t prepare you for any of this.

“i… i don’t feel too good. i’m sorry, i think i’ll go home” you mumbled, sending him a sad look “i’d love to stay but…”

“hey, hey. i understand. absolutely don’t worry. do you want me to drive you home?” he asked, voice genuinely filled with worry. it made your stomach flip, it was something truly heartwarming.

“no, no it’s okay. i’ll take a painkiller and go to sleep but i’ll let you know once i feel better. again, i’m sorry for ruining our date” you mumbled. chan took your hands in his and caressed it with his thumbs.

“please don’t worry about anything, okay?” he hummed and squeezed your hands “are you sure you’ll go home on your own?”

“yes, i am. i’ll keep you updated. again, i’m so–“ you started but chan shook his head.

“don’t be” he said softly and let you go. you sent him an apologetic smile and walked away. chan observed you until you were gone from his sight.

you were home quickly, with dino nuggets and some other necessities (gummy bears and ice cream). swinging the door open you almost dropped the groceries, running up to jooyeon. he wasn’t crying anymore, which was good but now he was sitting on the couch with his arms crossed. pouting. ah. he’s more angry than sad now.

“jooyeonnie, i’m here” you breathed out, giving jihyo a look. she nodded and took the groceries, preparing to heat up the nuggets for jooyeon “will you talk to me? please. did someone say something bad?”

he put his lips into a right line, looking away.

“you’re a liar. you’ll leave me, just like daddy. even auntie jihyo said she’s scared of you leaving” he huffed, lower lip trembling. you sent jihyo a piercing look to which she only mouthed ‘it was a joke’.

you sat up and wrapped an arm around him. joo slapped your hand, wriggling away.

“i won’t leave, baby. what made you think that way, sweetie?” you asked quietly.

jooyeon sighed deeply.

“the guy”

you looked at jihyo, frowning. she shrugged.

“what guy?” you asked. jooyeon puffed his cheeks.

“auntie jihyo said you’re seeing a guy and in a blink of an eye you’ll leave them. and if you’ll leave them, you’ll leave me” he grunted.

oh.

“baby…” you whined, pouting “that’s not…”

“and– and you will disappear, just like dad! the guy will take you away!” jooyeon whined and finally looked at you, cheeks and lashes still wet from tears.

“he will not. your dad was a pu– scaredy cat. he was scared, that’s why he left. i will never… ever, ever leave you, joo!” you smiled and squished his small cheeks “yes, i am seeing a guy. but even if i like him and i’d like him to be my boyfriend, i won’t leave you. we’re a pack, you know? whoever would want me, has to want you too, hm?”

“was dad scared of me?” jooyeon asked, eyes tearing up again.

“oh no no no! he was… how to say it… he was scared of the responsibilities” you sighed. well, technically joo’s dad was scared of him but that’s not a conversation for now, with a five year old “you’re not the reason, okay? if anyone said anything to you…”

he shook his head slowly. so this was the case. poor jooyeon was just scared and… in fact, you did neglect him lately. you didn’t… you didn’t even ask him about his day. after picking him up from kindergarten you went straight away to dress up for the date–

“if that would make you feel better… if there’s a guy i’m seeing, you’ll have to accept him. or not. if you don’t like him, you tell me. we have a deal?” you cocked your head and reached your hand out.

“m’kay…” he murmured and his smaller hand squeezed yours. you pulled him into a hug, hiding your nose in his hair.

“i’m sorry i made you feel that way” you mumbled. jihyo came over, sniffling. sending her a shocked look you realised she’s… crying.

“i have dino nuggets!” she said cheerfully despite her voice trembling. jooyeon leaned away and pecked your cheek before aiming for the nuggets. you let him eat and looked at jihyo.

“what? you made me emotional. can we approve the guy too?” your friend mumbled. you nodded and scoffing, you hugged her too.

during your fourth date with chan – and yet another one during which you didn’t tell him about jooyeon – you were currently strolling down the street, coffee in your hands. well, you drank yours. having a small chat you couldn’t help but giggle when he told you about the time he mistakenly took wrong pendrive to work. resulting in showing his boss a presentation he made for a powerpoint night with his friends, titled: “why felix eating chicken is cannibalism”. you were about to ask him how on earth he didn’t get fired when–

suddenly your heart dropped and everything started happening in slow motion.

jeongyeon and jooyeon walking from around the corner, holding hands. jeongyeon was talking to him, smiling and your son was engrossed in the conversation. he was holding a small flower. his ebony eyes noticed you and widened, sparks of joy. his lips opening, a tiny hand of his letting go jeongyeon’s. and then you heard it.

“mommy!”

joo ran your way, almost dropping the flower. chan was still clueless, eyes laser focused on your features. once he realised something’s wrong, jooyeon was close. your instinct told you to squat and open your arms to hug him, so you did. joo’s body hit yours, tiny hands wrapping around your neck.

“hiya mommy!”

you hugged jooyeon back and leaned away, tucking a strand of his longish hair that stuck to his forehead. was that paint–?

“hi baby” you whispered, barely audible. jeongyeon walked up, panting. finally you looked at chan, heart pounding against your rib cage as if it was about to break any second. you couldn’t read him. sure, his mouth was hanging open and his eyes were widened but…

only when you picked up jooyeon and came back to chan’s eye level, there it was. the reaction you knew too damn well. features dropping, shock morphing into realisation. next was…

“that’s… that’s your kid?” chan spat out. jeongyeon squinted, jaw tensing. she liked chan, sure. he was a nice guy and a hardworking manager. but what he was about to say could completely change her point of view.

“yes” you mumbled faintly, sending him a weak smile “it’s my son–“

“you didn’t tell me. i get it, not saying anything about– i don’t fuc… know, a goldfish when you were nine but a child“ anger. anger was next and now there will be– “y/n… i’m disappointed”

your heart dropped. you had a small flame of hope that he won’t be like the other guys. he won’t run away, he won’t judge. but no. despite all the fun time and genuine softness of his character chan was like every single man you’ve met before.

“i can explain–!” a pathetic whine ripped out of your throat, making jooyeon tilt his head.

“i don’t… i need to go. we’ll talk later” was all he said before walking away.

jeongyeon quickly came over and took jooyeon from your hands. truly, you were thankful for that. as your heart shattered into pieces, your knees went weak. you wanted to lay down on the sidewalk and cry; no, wail.

looking at jooyeon and then jeongyeon, you took a deep breath. no. you’ll have to wait until later. you don’t want him to see you cry. your friend’s face was saying ‘told you so, you should’ve have told him sooner’ but her hand met yours and gave it a small squeeze.

“i’m sorry” she whispered and nudged your arm. jooyeon poked you and gave you the flower he was holding “let’s go home, hm?”

the next two weeks were tough. chan left you on read, so you gave up on texting him. the worst part was that you knew it’s your fault. you should’ve told him earlier. but… you really thought he’s different. he really was, so caring and soft; he didn’t want just to hop in your bed. but in the end, he’s just like others.

jihyo and jeongyeon wanted to kill him. yuna too, even though she didn’t know him. the girls told you that he’s off ever since that day. jihyo didn’t talk to him, only sending cold looks his way. chan seemed… ashamed every time they met. especially jeongyeon. in fact, he seemed to avoid them.

jooyeon was a sweetheart, though. you weren’t sure if he understood but he knew something was wrong. he tried to cheer you up and it worked. how could it not? he’s adorable himself. bringing drawings and flowers from kindergarten or just watching him experiment on the garage band with a huge smile on his face. just having joo around was enough.

one day, he invited his friends over. it was quite a challenge: five other boys running around in your living room. but their laughs were contagious. while most of them, including junhan’s. he was the most shy one, clinging to you and peeking at the boys. joo though, being the happy virus he is, dragged him away from you and they ran to his room. when you wanted to take a look what’s going on, the oldest and the boldest pushed you out.

so you decided to do some paperwork, a sitcom playing in the background. from time to time you heard shouts and sounds of footsteps… and metal lids smashing against each other. guess they were playing the band game.

smiling upon remembering the times you used to do that with jooyeon while you still had your guitar, there was a doorbell ring.

gaon, one of the boys run out.

“if that’s my mom tell her i’m not here!” he yelled and ran away back to joo’s room. scoffing, you walked closer to the door. how would that even work? if you were to say that, his mom would lose her mind. it was the whole purpose of inviting them so they’re here–

“hi”

your eyes widened. opening the door, you were met with chan. he was holding a huge bouquet of flowers, biting his lower lip anxiously. you were so stunned, you couldn’t mutter a word.

“i’m… can we talk?” he asked, sparks of hope in his ebony eyes. he was dressed like usual, black from head to toe. you on the other hand… already in your pyjamas–

“i, uh… sure, i guess. come in. or no… see… joo has friends over and–“ you started and got interrupted by a loud metal noise. ah yes, the drums. sending chan an apologetic smile, you sighed “yup. that’s exactly what i was going to say”

chan smiled, nodding.

“it’s fine. those are for you. i know this isn’t enough to make up for how i reacted but…” he handed you the flowers. while you rushed to put them in a vase, chan stepped in and closed the door.

his lips subconsciously curled into a smile while he looked around your place. tiny shoes all over the floor, crayons and papers laying around, cars and legos splattered everywhere. there were plenty of pictures too. most of them were just your son. some of them were jihyo, jeongyeon and you. and your son, again. or some pictures with your parents, like on your graduation day. and another one: your parents, you and your son.

“okay, come in. take your shoes off, it’s already a mess. do you, uhm… want some coffee?” you asked, fidgeting with your fingers. he shook his head as a no.

“no, thank you. listen y/n… i’m sorry” chan said, looking into your eyes. you were shocked, mouth slightly parting. he let out a nervous laugh “i’ve been acting like a total idiot since then but i needed some time to think, i’m sorry”

“yeah, i mean– it was kind of a bomb, wasn’t it?” you scoff. chan noticed a glint of bitterness on your face.

“can we sit down? i feel like–“ he started. you led him to the couch, quickly moving away the small, plastic plates boys left after dinner.

when you were settled down, you turned off the tv. there was comfortable silence, only filled with background noises of faint music coming from joo’s room.

“again, i’m so fucking sorry. y/n, i just… you are really the girl of my dreams. i don’t think i’ve ever met someone who understood me so well, who i just had this flow with. and i truly like you, i really do. i… i know the way i reacted was shitty. but… maybe if you told me…” chan finished hesistantly, scanning your face to see your reaction “truth be told, i needed to think it through. i had so many thoughts but… why, why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

you let out a deep sigh, looking down. at his neat black pants and your messy pyjama ones.

“because i did it before. and each time i was met with the same reaction. either a nasty comment or a weird look, and all of them ended up in eventually leaving me without word. or a word as in “listen, you’re cute but the kid”–“ you took a deep breath, feeling yourself bubble up. chan grabbed your hand and squeezed it “and, and i was so tired of that. it was so selfish of me and unfair for you and even jooyeon but… for a moment i wanted to feel loved. wanted to have fun. i wanted to cherish those moments because i knew you’d leave too and–“

crystal tears started running down your cheeks. chan pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you. one hand at the back of your head, caressing your hair soothingly.

“and it’s awful; i’m awful. joo thought i’d leave him for you and i knew you’d leave me because of him. it’s never ending circle and i’ll be alone forever and joo will think it’s his fault and–“ you hiccuped, not realising you’re rambling “and- and i really liked you and your reaction hurt me but it was fully my fault…”

“hey. hey, y/n. calm down, it’s okay” chan whispered, lulling you in his arms. you gradually calmed down, the feeling was full of comfort. comfort and closeness you needed. such a simple move, yet it had soothing effect. this made you realise why joo loved to be out to sleep this way.

leaning away from chan when you finally gained the strength to, he wiped your cheeks.

“i’m sorry, from the bottom of my heart. neither of us didn’t handle it properly. we’re human, we make mistakes. but then we learn. i understand now why… why you were scared. and i’m so… pissed. because listen, y/n” he said, voice stern but not in a disturbing way. his calloused hands took your smaller in his “despite the way i reacted i realised i like you. and… if there’s… joo… then– then it is a bit of a challenge. but when i was thinking about it and did the math… you were 20. alone, young. during studies, during work. you were so brave. you still are. and you handled it on your own. so why i, a man, should be scared of helping you?”

your eyes teared up again, heart beating against your rib cage unusually hard.

“well, i am. because i don’t know how you’ll react, or if he’ll like me, or maybe because simply i’m new to this. but… as i said… i like you. and i really want to spend more time with you. if that means taking care of your son, i’m willing to do so to” chan smiled, dimples showing “especially if he’s as funny as his mom”

suddenly you heard footsteps and giggles, followed by a sudden gasp.

“no mrs lee! i’ll save you!” the oldest boy, gunil, shouted. before you could react, chan was getting beaten up with pillows by six kids. even the shy junhan.

he started laughing and fought back, gently of course.

“does anyone here have tickles?!” chan hummed and the boys squealed, backing away.

“who’s that?” jooyeon asked, tugging your t-shirt.

“he’s a friend of mine. chan. can he watch your performance too?” you asked. chan’s ears perked up.

“performance?” he repeated. jooyeon nodded proudly.

“yes! but our music is for vips only!” seungmin added and just now you realised they grabbed the keyboard from joo’s room. jungsu, seated next to him, nodded shyly.

“okay! i’m a music producer so if you guys want i can give you some tips…?” chan asked, sending you a smile.

“pft! auntie jeongyeon and jihyo are music producers too, they gave us tips already!” joo grunted, walking away “anyway… is the audience ready?”

chan nodded enthusiastically and scooted closer to you. watching the six boys perform, chan sneaked his hand in yours and intertwined your fingers. with a squeeze of his hand your heart skipped a beat; you finally met the right person.

masterlist <3

taglist. @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @litepowee ,, @ocean-minho ,, @lessthanpast ,, @s-e-s-a-I-e-n-e

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bangtanhoneys · 3 months

Text

just gimme them babies - grace chu

Big Hit had been teasing something for the past few weeks. Cute images were posted across their social media and everyone started to expect that there was another Grace album coming, even though BTS were amid a comeback. Twitter was aflame with all the ideas and ARMY were trying to see if anything could be hidden in the images by zooming in.

Then on a Friday night, a link was uploaded.

It was a YouTube video which was going to premiere on Sunday afternoon in South Korea. The title of the video: ‘Grace Chu - Here In My Arms Mini-Album (Official Live Performance).’ This puzzled ARMY and the rest of the world even more as it had been a while since the mini album had been released, on the seven-year anniversary of Seokjin and Grace’s relationship.

For Grace, the whole performance was giving her a mixed bag of emotions.

Unbeknownst to everyone, it was the first of many ‘last’ performances from Grace until she went on maternity leave. Eighteen weeks pregnant and the bump was now full on display, though cleverly hidden by style choices in the early days, but it was getting harder to conceal. It was getting harder to sing and dance, unable to pull off the choreography like she used to.

A meeting had been called to put a plan in motion for BTS to continue their comeback, with Grace still present, but not doing the performances. Her voice would be there, she would still do the interviews and the press conferences and a doctor would be on hand at all times. When 25 weeks came around, she would be put on rest. But for now, while she could still perform, she was going to give ARMY a treat.

A ‘see you later’ treat and a way to announce her pregnancy.

HYBE’s top floor had been cleared and re-done, back to the very basics but hints of pastel colours - ivory, pink, purple, green, yellow, blues, etc. The band that had played with Yoongi during his D-Day tour was drafted in and they, along with Grace, had come up with a small set-list that would do what it needed to do - say goodbye but oh, pregnant!

She was nervous as the hours to the premiere ticked down. The K-Pop world could be unpredictable when it came to idols and their private relationships. Their reaction to her and Seokjin had been more than favourable, but this was something different altogether. They weren’t married and the pregnancy had been kind of wanted but also a major surprise.

It had been a major surprise to all the boys when they were given their uncle hoodies.

Grace had banned them from being at HYBE on the day of the performance. It wasn’t that she didn’t want them there but they were a distraction, having already seen the set the day before and were causing chaos with the flowers that had been brought in. Well, Jimin, Taehyung, Jungkook and Hobi had been causing chaos. Namjoon, Yoongi and Seokjin had been causing chaos by going over the lyrics.

There were a few swear words and obviously, the lyrics were sexually suggestive but that’s why this would be a one-off and never done again.

The minutes were ticking by and Grace let out a deep breath, putting a hand on her stomach where there was a slight fluttering. She was standing in the middle of the set, the band behind her with a small orchestra, all dressed in various colours while she was dressed in a pink sparkly dress.

It had been designed to be loose, to hide the bump until she was ready to reveal it. Any camera on her wouldn’t be able to tell that she was 18 weeks pregnant, ready to tell the world what she was expecting.

As the premiere ended and the official performance began, ARMY was shocked to see Bang-PD pop up in a recording that had been filmed the day before.

“I’m pleased to introduce to you all, Grace Chu, our female member of Bangtan Sonyeondan. We hope you all enjoy the performance of this amazing album even if we’re a bit behind and I hope to see you all in the comments.”

It was puzzling and anyone translating had commented that it was such an odd thing to say. Some were beginning to worry that it was going to spell the end of BTS as they knew it.

Finally, the cameras switched for ARMY to see Grace standing here, microphone in hand as the band and orchestra started the intro notes to Positions. The comments started going crazy with everyone watching, each trying to get Grace’s attention, not realising she couldn’t exactly see them.

The boys, however, in Namjoon’s apartment had the performance on his wide-screen TV and could see the comments coming in real-time. Jimin was running a commentary as he held his phone in his hand, his screen showing the comments only as the rest watched along.

They were just as nervous, Seokjin more so. This was going to be a big day with the world knowing their most private news and it was either going to be bad or it was going to be very good. In this idol/K-Pop world, it was hard to know.

So far the comments had been exploding over her voice, how she was glowing and there had been one or two comments who had already suspected what was happening.

“Ah ARMY aren’t stupid,” Jimin laughed as he pointed out the comment he had quickly screenshotted before it disappeared. “They said this is giving baby vibes and then the other comment said she’s going to announce she’s pregnant, putting money on it.”

“Is there a reason she picked a pink dress?” Yoongi asked, already making note of the particular colour.

Seokjin shrugged, accepting the bowl of food from Hobi who had been sorting out their takeaway food. “I have no idea, we haven’t had a gender scan yet. I think the stylists said it was the only material they had which would hide her bump.”

Yoongi didn’t quite believe it, nor did Seokjin who knew the exact reasoning behind it all.

It was then the most important song came, the boys and everyone holding their breath because it was going to happen within seconds. Staff were ready to start banning, and even lawyers were on standby to start suing.

34+35 started playing, all eyes on the screen as Grace took a breath and stood from the chair she had been sitting in from the previous performance of Safety Net.

“You might think I'm crazy, the way I've been cravin.' If I put it quite plainly,” she turned sideways to the camera and smoothed the dress to the now obvious eighteen week bump, “just gimme them babies.”

The internet went into utter melt down. Grace carried on with the song, completely unaware of what was happening across various social media pages. All she saw was a thumbs up from Sejin.

Pink confetti started raining down as she got towards the end of the song, finally revealing to the world and to the boys what gender it was.

“You liar!” Yoongi yelled, pointing a finger at a grinning Seokjin.

“Ah I technically wasn’t lying, the stylist did pick that material for a reason,” the father of a soon-to-be baby girl pointed out, ignoring the rest as they clamoured around him for hugs. Jungkook was crying into Namjoon’s chest, blubbering how he was going to be the best big brother ever.

At the end of the performance, at the end of the video, Grace gave the camera finger hearts and patted her stomach with a smile on her face. The screen faded to black with pink wording: Bangtan Baby. Coming April. See you soon.

#bts 8th member #bts eighth member #bts additional member #bts female member #bts fic #seokjin x oc #bangtanbaby

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emberenchanted · 11 months

Text

For Keeps (1/3)

Title: For Keeps

Characters: Dark!Carol Danvers x Female Reader

Summary: Carol sees you. Carol wants you. Carol gets what she wants.

Series Warnings: extremely dubious consent, strap-on (r receiving), sex (oral, vaginal), anal fingering, Dom!Carol, orgasm denial, spanking, violence (not really towards reader), manipulation, forced relationship, rough sex, Ma’am kink

Note: All three chapters of this fic are already written. This is my very first (and maybe only) fic I’m posting on Tumblr. So if you like it, please let me know. All forms of feedback welcome. Comments and reblogs especially.

18+ ONLY

Chapter 1

Carol was not happy. Though perhaps that was an understatement. As Carol stomped down the front steps of Mel’s Tavern and shoves open the door, she was honest enough to admit she was pissed. After a long week, an absolute shit week, all Carol wants to do on her Friday night is go to Thor’s brothel, have too much Asgardian liquor, and take out her frustrations on one of the pretty little whores in his employ. Instead, she’s in Mel’s trying to figure out why he hadn’t made his monthly payment for the 2nd month in a row. Though to be fair, this visit was less about finding out why he’d not made his payment and more about reminding him why he needed to make his payment. Carol wasn’t a therapist or a social worker, so she didn’t really give a shit about the why.

Striding into the poorly lit, smoky bar, filled with gaudy tchotchkes and an unfortunate looking crowd, Carol quickly glances around the room looking for Mel. She wants to get in and out of this dive as soon as possible. However, Mel was nowhere to be found; he was smart to make himself scarce knowing that he’d missed payday, but dumb as fuck to make Carol wait. To be fair, he probably didn’t know he was making Carol wait. He most likely thought he was simply avoiding one of the lesser Avenger goons. Unfortunately for Mel, he wasn’t the only “security client” who’d neglected to pay his dues in the Avengers’ territory recently. That, plus Steve’s suspicion that there was a mole in the family meant that Carol had been drafted to figure out what was going on and to fix the problem.

Carol strides to the doorman, black low-heeled boots clicking on the grungy and slightly sticky tile floor. In her bespoke all black pantsuit, she cut a striking figure. Short dark blonde hair curled around a strong jaw on one side; the other side razed into a short undercut. The doorman stands up quickly when he sees her.

“Ma’am,” he starts, before Carol puts up her hand.

“Where’s Mel?,” Carol interrupts. “If he’s in the back, go get him. If he’s not, tell him I’m here and that the longer I wait, the more pissed off I’ll become. Got it?”

The doorman nods sharply before turning on his heel and heading toward the closed off offices in the back of the bar.

Carol rolls her shoulders once to relieve some tension before walking over to the bar; she finds the least sticky chair and takes a seat before tapping her index finger on the bar top two times to get the bartender’s attention. That was when she saw you.

You hadn’t noticed her until she’d sat at the bar, but you recognize the confident way she situated herself in the room as someone used to wielding authority. Seated so she had a clear view of most of the room and all of the exits, the woman leaned back into her chair, eyes flickering around the room until they stopped on you. You meet her gaze. As her intense honey brown orbs pin you in place, you begin to feel a bit shy; your heart pounds loudly in your chest and you lower your eyes. You curse yourself silently and tell yourself that she was just like any other customer. A hot customer. A really fucking hot customer. You would just do your job. Deep breaths.

The woman seems to notice your discomfort and her eyes glitter as they flicker up and down your body, pausing at your hips, waist, and the slight swell of your breasts visible over your black tank top.

You shift uncomfortably and tug at the hem of your tank, desperately wishing that you’d thought to put on your jacket before your shift. Your outfit was by no means revealing, but the way she was looking at you made you feel like she could see right through your clothes. Her eyes meet yours once more and she gives you a gentle smirk that makes your breath catch. Your hands immediately come together in front of you, fingers twisting around each other as you meet her steely gaze.

You stand up straight, lift your chin and walk over to the bar, fiercely hoping your demeanor doesn’t betray your nervousness.

“Hi, welcome to Mel’s. Can I get you something?,” you ask the woman, voice squeaking just a bit.

“Well hello there, baby,” she drawls in a sing-song voice, head tilting slightly as she gives you another long onceover; she doesn’t try to hide it, her eyes dragging the last few inches from your mouth to your eyes slowly. “Give me a shot of Crown, neat. Ok?”

“Yes, ma’am!” you quickly puff out, already retreating to fetch her drink.

Carol’s smile widens at the address and she thinks that maybe, just maybe, her night is turning around. As you turn around to grab a whiskey glass and pour her shot, Carol’s eyes crawl over the curve of your waist and delicious looking ass. Yes, indeed. Her night was looking up.

As you pour the drink you think about how...excellent the customer’s voice is. Husky and soft, it slithered into your ears and made you briefly wonder what that voice would sound like in bed.

You pour a healthy shot of the whiskey in the glass and set it in front of the blonde woman, before quickly stepping back. She raises the glass slightly in your direction before slowly sipping her drink, her throat bobbing as she swallows while staring directly into your eyes. Her wet, pink tongue slips out to lick a drop of whiskey lingering on her plump bottom lip. Your eyes are glued to the motion and your face gets hot when you realize she’d watched you watching her.

In all honesty, that was probably a bad thought. You didn’t know who she was, but all the other employees, and the few customers, seemed a bit on edge ever since she walked in. You weren’t quite sure why, but it almost seemed like Tony, the doorman, was scared of her. Which was outrageous. Tony was 6’5 and built like a Mack truck. But still, you knew that whoever she was, you should be cautious.

“Come here, baby,” she mutters, resting her elbows on the bar and leaning forward.

Your heart pounds in your chest, and your eyes wildly look around the room seeking anywhere else to direct your attention.

Your eyes settle back on the blonde woman when nobody else will meet your gaze. Not even Fred, the local drunk who spent most evenings begging for “just one more drink, love.” Traitors.

You shuffle toward the woman and start to reach for her now empty glass. “Do you want an open or closed tab?,” you ask.

She smiles up at you, revealing even, white teeth before winking and saying, “It’s on the house.”

Your brow furrows, confused before you peeked at Tony, who nods at you grimly.

“Oook,” you say, still slightly confused as you reach for the empty glass to place aside for the bar back.

In the three months you’d been working here, you’d never given anyone or seen anyone given a drink “on the house.” Mel wasn’t necessarily stingy, but you didn’t want to press your luck and drinks were priced so reasonably that nobody ever complained. But, if Tony was saying it was on the house, you had to take him at his word.

Her hand snakes out and catches yours before you can remove the glass.

“What’s your name?,” the blonde woman asks softly, thumb gently stroking the web of skin between your thumb and index finger. You start to jerk your hand away, but her grip tightens around yours, holding you in place. You freeze, eyes and mouth parting as your breath comes faster and you nervously wait for something, anything, to give you a clue to what she wants you to do. She looks at you curiously before releasing your hand and sliding back in her seat, back resting against the high-backed chair.

“I’m Y/N,” you say, breathing a bit more evenly now that she’s no longer touching you.

“Y/N” she repeats, the name rolling off her tongue melodically. “That's pretty. I’m Carol. How long have you worked here, Y/N? I’ve never seen you before.”

“Three months, but I’m not from here,” you blather nervously.

“Oh yeah?,” she smiles coyly, “where are you from, baby?”

You feel heat rising in your cheeks at the endearment, and you softly tell her where you're from.

“That’s fun. How do you like our little city?” she says, extending her arms wide open. “Have you seen all the sights?”

“No,” you reluctantly admit. “I came out here in a rush so I’ve mainly been focused on finding work and a place to live. Haven’t had time to do the tourist thing yet.”

“Hmmm,” she ponders, smiling gently while drumming her short red nails on the bar, “I’d love to be your tour guide, baby, if you’d like that. Take you to see the sights, take you to dinner. Do you work tomorrow?”

“O-oh,” you stutter, surprised that she’d managed to direct the conversation into an invitation for a date so quickly and smoothly. “Umm.”

“Do you work tomorrow, baby?,” she presses again.

“No, I uh, don’t. But I’m not--” you start.

“Great,” Carol interrupts. “That’s just what I was hoping to hear. Give me your phone number and I’ll call you tomorrow with something planned for us.”

You were taken aback. Yes, she was gorgeous and made you feel flushed and nervous (you supposed those were butterflies?), and would probably-- no, definitely-- show you a good time, but you weren’t sure you wanted to get wrapped up in whatever was going on here. But she’d already slid her phone across the bar and was beaming up at you expectantly. You figured that one little outing probably wouldn’t hurt. It’d been a while since you’d been out and Lord knew you hadn’t had time for anything fun and relaxing since moving to the city. You’d been far too busy scrambling to survive. Your hometown was expensive, but nothing like this.

As you reach for her phone you send a silent prayer that wherever you go with her wouldn’t be too expensive so you could insist on paying for yourself without cannibalizing your weekly food budget.

As you input your phone number, the woman, Carol, leans back in her chair and glances around the bar again before once more leaning towards you. Your eyes fall to her cleavage and your thoughts take a turn before you snap your eyes back up to her to find her laughing gently.

“Such a good girl,” Carol husks as she retrieves her phone from you and slips it into her trouser pocket as she stands.

She didn't touch you this time; you were already overwhelmed and semi-regretful and she looked like she didn’t want to give you any reason to try to run away from her. “Now, go get me another drink while I talk to Mel,” Carol instructs before and turning around sharply.

You’re thrilled to have something else to do, to focus on, so you didn’t notice the fearful look on Mel’s face as Carol strides up to him.

Carol didn’t exactly work for Steve and the Avengers, but she did operate out of their territory when she was stateside, and lately her business dealings found her on the East Coast. Staying with the family was just easier, and that sometimes meant getting caught up in their issues. She normally didn’t mind doing Steve a favor...but it’d been a hell of a week, and up until she’d seen the little cutie at the bar squirm so prettily under her scrutinizing gaze, she had not been happy to be doing this particular favor.

Well, Carol thinks, whores aren’t the only way to work out aggression. Looks like this God forsaken place would provide her two types of entertainment tonight.

Carol’s exchange with Mel is brief. She bulldozes over his stammered greetings and demands to know why he hadn’t been paying his security fee. Mel insists that he had been paying, he definitely wasn’t avoiding the family, and that someone new had come around and told him 3 months ago that there was a new payment method. He’d been leaving his payments in an unmarked envelope taped under a nearby bench. Someone had been picking them up, since Mel had made two payments this way and the first was gone when he went to make the second.

Hmmm, Steve will definitely be interested to learn that. Carol muses to herself.

“Ok, Mel,” Carol says to the stammering man.

“Ok?,” Mel repeats, hope creeping into his eyes as he looks timidly at her.

“Ok,” Carol reiterated, “I believe you. Which is the good news. The bad news is I don’t give a fuck who you say you paid, because bottom line is we don’t have our money. The money you owe us. So you have until next week to get it to us.”

Anger flares in Mel’s eyes before Carol puts a hand on his shoulder “Ah ah ah, Mel. I can just tell that I am zero percent interested in hearing whatever you're about to say. You pay by next week or I can break your other leg, too.”

Mel blanches and whimpers out, “too?,” just in time for Carol to slip her hand from his shoulder to the back of his head before slamming him nose-first into a nearby table. The crack is audible above the shitty music playing in the background. As Mel reaches to try to push himself up from the table, Carol brings her fist down on the fingers clinging to the edge of the table, breaking three on impact and then turns to forcefully kick one leg out toward Mel’s knee, forcing it backward with an audible CRACK! Mel’s scream cuts through all the chatter and music, a macabre soundtrack in the dingy bar.

Once that was done, Carol slides Mel into the booth she’d just brutalized him at and turns back to the bar.

You were cowering in a corner, back pressed as far up against the bar as you could, eyes frantically searching for an exit, body shaking, and breath huffing quickly. You’d finished prepping Carol’s drink just in time to see the breathtaking display of violence. You feel nauseated and scared and hot and dizzy, your stomach heaving at the bloodshed. You can hear your heart beating in your head as you watch Carol stride over to you, her eyes glittering in excitement and something that looked suspiciously like arousal.

She knocks back the drink you have waiting for her, before looking directly at you. You try to look anywhere but at her, but she was still all you noticed.

“Look at me,” she says firmly. Your eyes flicker up towards her at the command. “You answer when I call you tomorrow, ok baby?”

She waits for your weak nod, before smiling brightly at you and walking out the door.

Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks for reading this far. Let me know what you think!

#dark carol danvers x reader #dark!carol danvers #carol danvers x reader #carol danvers x female reader #dark carol danvers x female reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #dark! carol danvers #carol danvers fanfiction #carol danvers smut #for keeps series

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imaginewarehouse · 7 months

Text

Human!Sheriff x Reader x Human!Doc Hudson || Drabble

Plot: Flo's diner on Friday Night's is always a lot of fun- there's good food and drink (Which is not out of the ordinary, admittedly), good company (The whole town ends up there at some point in the night), and theirs dancing. You're determined to get the hot old men to dance with you.

Warnings: Age difference I guess but its not a focus point.

I have had this fic in my drafts, finished and all, for years. Since like, 2019-2020, but since I wrote it just for me (Also the reason for the fist person perspective), I had never bothered to edit it- well I finally did and I think its kinda cute ^^

🔆🔆🔆

“What are you two doing just sitting around and drinking over here for?” I ask Doc and the Sheriff, as I sweep off the dancefloor in exhaustion and rest in the chair beside Doc (The material of his blazer grazes my bare arm and I get a little jolt from the innocent touch). Mater’s a sweetie pie, and a great dancer but… boy, does he have more endurance than I do. After I take a second to gather my exhaustion and banish it, I turn to the two men and flash them a smile. “It’s fun out there!”

“Hmm, your exhaustion and the sweat completely bucketing off of you is especially encouraging.” Doc rolls his eyes, and turns to look back at the dancers. Ramone and Flo are dancing smoothly in the middle, like they’re practised, like they do it at home because they just love each other like that- unsurprisingly. Then Sally and Lightning are there, too, Mater’s found a new partner in Guido while Luigi laughs at his friend’s expense off to the side, and Lizzie's talking on happily to Red off to the side. A soft smile rests on my lips, until I turn away from the scene and back to the two men I’m sitting with. Sheriff’s already looking at me, which makes me smile wider.

“Being tired and sweaty is a good sign!” I exclaim, winking. “Sheriff, what about you? Fancy a round with me?” How many innuendos can I make with these men and get away with it? How many until they get it and take me? I’m not saying take advantage… because neither of them would do that- but at least recognise what I’m trying to get at here and ask me about it!!

He chuckles, moving in his bar stool chair to be more comfortable. “That’s a lovely offer, darlin’, but I’m afraid I’d probably just slow you down. I’m not as young as I used to be!”

At this, an opportunistic light switches on behind Doc’s calculating eyes, swivelling on his stool ever so slightly in order to turn that piercing stare on the sheriff. “Yes, he’s missed his last 3 check-ups, Y/N. Anything could be wrong with him.” Sheriff bristles and his expression dissolves into guilt, as he refuses to look at Doc who’s smirking. “Damn hot rods not allowing you a single day off to visit the office, right Sheriff?”

“Uhuh, ri-right.” Sheriff quickly clears his throat, straightening in his chair now to look around at anything other than Doc. As he does that, Dr Hudson glances to me with a quiet, conspiratorial look before taking another drink from his mug, making me giggle quietly.

In a moment, I raise my eyebrows at him. “Why don’t you take a dance with me, then? You must be at the height of health, ey Doc?”

A grunt is his response, as the amusement leaves his blue eyes and he looks away again.

“Come on, one of you? Both of you? I’m not picky- I’m desperate! Mater’s got a new partner and… “I risk a glance at the tow-truck owner and can’t stop a laugh from bubbling up to the surface. “Guido’s a hard act to beat! He’ll never want me back. I’m dying to get back on the floor, though!”

“Guido’s seemed to have transformed miraculously into a sack of potatoes.” Doc states in that slow, gravelly drawl, assessing the dancing couples as well. And it’s true, making me really chuckle this time at his analogy. Mater is just swinging the little Italian around at this point, with absolutely zero help from Guido himself. Guido’s toupee keeps bopping around and slipping out of place.

I stop my chuckling by biting my bottom lip, and scraping it through my teeth as I turn back to them. Sheriff’s stopped avoiding Docs gaze now and is looking at me with him like they’ve won- like together they can ward me off- Oh, ho, ho, though. These two think they’re so clever and victorious. But they haven’t gotten out of this. No, no. I’m determined; I’ll get one of them to dance with me tonight, even if it takes begging!

“You’re right.” I admit, then lean closer into the table pleadingly. “But I don’t want to dance with Mater, I want you two! Come onnnn,” I whine, looking as pleadingly as possible to them.

Doc sets me with a firm, straight lipped look. “And you’ll continue to want me.”

Well, that’s that then.

I turn from him, to Sheriff. When Doc’s mind is set, he usually will never change it. Sheriff, though… he’s a bit more lenient. A softie. A sweetheart. That’s one of the things I really love about him, in contrast to what I really love about Doc; his cleverness, his sternness. Unbelievably sexy qualities.

And I’m right, too. The Sheriff’s looking at me a with worried frown under that moustache and thoughtful deep, dark blue eyes. Oh lord, these men and their blue eyes. They had me my first day here in Radiator Springs.

I offer my hand across the table to him, and up the ante with my cute pleading look, which I hadn’t even known was possible. I do so by adding a little pout, and it does the trick. Sheriff heaves a great sigh and drops his large hand into mine, getting out of his chair. He rolls his eyes. “Hot damn… “He mutters something about the lord saving him, as I get up from my seat with the biggest beam on my face and springing into place next to him like a slightly overexcited puppy, before returning his gaze to me. “Remember what I said, I’m not as springy as I once was. And, I was never a very good dancer in the first place, so- “

“Let’s go!” Now that I’ve got him up, I’m not about stand here and listen to him talk himself out of this again, so I take us off to a spot on the floor. When I turn back to him and let go of his hand, I flash him a bright grin and think out loud in anticipation as the song ends and we wait for the next one to play. “Besides, the point of this is not to look good, it’s to have fun! Wanna have fun with me, Sheriff?” Okay, so I might have gone a little far with that last comment as the poor, sweet man goes a little pink, but I pretend not to notice that and just listen out for the first few beats of the next song. Before I can make the first move and pick up his hands again, as the song’s a bit boppy and perfect for twirling, he takes up mine first and then, before I know it he’s dancing with me. It’s so much fun!, he’s not half bad at dancing like he let on- there’s a little bit of funk and we slip out of time every now and then but that just makes us laugh. And he twirls me!! He twirls me!!! I’m also starting to think he was just being modest, with all that ‘I’m not as springy as I once was’, crap. Sheriff’s in shape! We’ve been dancing for the past 8 songs and he has not once needed a break or looked like he would be needing one any time soon.

It’s so much fun that I nearly forget to want a drink, or a break myself. The music is so hillbilly it’s fun, the laughter is elating, and the company is addictive. Every time a song ends, he’ll dip me and I’m not afraid that he’ll drop me; he’s strong, and his grip on me is firm. I laugh quite a bit when he does that, and when I get to twirl, and at some point he throws his hat off to Doc, and I’m surprised there’s still a Ford-Pines-Tom-Sellick-level head of hair there. Man, does this place know how to grow ‘em…

We go on like this for a few more songs, until he reminds me to get a drink and a rest for a moment and see how Doc is doing. “Hey Doc, I don’t think you should be worried about Sheriffs health, he’s fitter than me!” I exclaim elatedly as I collapse back into my seat beside him, exasperated but not really. Tired, yes, but annoyed, not at all.

“Hmmm,”

“Still don’t wanna get a dance in before the night’s over Doc? It really is fun!” Sheriff pours us both some water from the jug Doc ordered for us, laughing a bit because of the left-over endorphins, and I nod along intently.

“Yes, the offer’s still on the table until the last song ends. So, keep that in mind.”

“Sure.”

I giggle, widening my eyes exasperatedly at Sheriff over my cup as I take a sip, before Doc starts up a conversation about Chick’s latest Lightning slander in the news.

6 songs later, and the night’s about to end, sadly. I watch, quietly and honestly tired, as Ramone goes up to Red and requests a certain song, quietly. I guess it’s something special between him and Flow, but as the slow song starts to play, Sally and Lightning dance too- and I’m actually perfectly content and happy in just sitting by and watching, when a shift beside me catches my attention and I look to see Doc getting off his stool and stretching his back. “Ah… this is much more my speed. Y/N?” He raises his hand in front of my face without looking back from the dance floor, and I raise an eyebrow.

“Yes?”

“You said the offer to dance was on the table until the last song. I believe this- is the last song.” A slow grin spreads across my face, and I cautiously, tiredly hop off my own stool, taking his hand in the process.

“Sure is!”

“Now, Doc, I’d’a thought you’d be up for something faster!” The Sheriff teases after us, with laughing eyes as he sits comfortably still in his seat.

A tiny smile graces Doc’s face, making me feel squirmy like it always does. “Yes, but my physical ability extends only to the minimum of what a driver’s required to be. Dear, now shall we?”

“Mhm, yeah, we shall!” I agree, grinning cheekily at him and waiving quickly to the Sheriff as Doc walks me onto the floor and swings me around to face him. The song, slow and easy, plays on around us as he fixes his hands carefully on the okay zone around my waist and mine find his shoulders. As we sway around the floor, I wonder; Will I ever get to do this with them as my men? Go out dancing as a date?.. Will these two ever realise how much I really like them?

When Doc grins again I wonder, if he actually already does know.

#Sheriff x Reader x Doc Hudson Drabble #Sheriff x Reader Drabble #Doc Hudson x Reader Drabble #Sheriff x Reader #Doc Hudson x Reader #Sheriff (Cars)#Cars Sheriff #Doc Hudson #Drabble #Cars x Reader Excerpt #Cars x Reader

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paulgadzikowski · 4 months

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for @basingstokemercury

The Hoss caricature came to me fullblown while I was half-awake napping and the rest just followed inevitably

#bonanza #cartoon reply #friday night clearing out my drafts

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heroofthreefaces · 2 years

Note

I wonder if part of the driving force behind the shift in the nature of Kal-El's "Real Identity/Fake Identity" dichotomy is readers/writers finding nervous, bumbling, aw-shucks Clark Kent so loveable that we don't want him to be fake.

Related thought: If his goal was to create an everyday identity that nobody would think to connect with Superman in a million years, he shouldn't have focused on making Clark seem timid, he should have focused on making him seem like an asshole.

[in regards to this commentary]

That makes sense, but it's predicated on the premise of Clark Kent being able to conceive of the idea of acting like an asshole for his own gain, so (all the jokes out there about golden-age and silver-age comic book writing notwithstanding) I don’t see it.

#clark kent #superman #dcu #friday night clearing out my drafts

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katy-kt-katie · 9 months

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“Bar Confessions”

Unrated / MSR

Tuesdays were slow; a small handful of regulars asking for a standard American draft beer, tipping a dollar here or there. He’d started coming in on Tuesdays a few months ago—not every Tuesday, but enough of them that it had become predictable, enough that I looked forward to his visits breaking up the monotony of the shift.

He’d sit at the bar, usually with a few files in his hands. At first, I thought he was a lawyer, given his suit and tie, but I’d learned a few weeks ago that he was an F.B.I. agent; he’d stepped in and helped when a woman had gotten drunk and rowdy and started to threaten the regulars.

I liked him—he was smart, often talking about science and space, and he was handsome, with a chiseled chin and stormy green eyes. When I talk, I feel like he’s really listening. He’s not arrogant like many of the men I serve; he was quite sweet, actually. He always asks me to surprise him with whatever drink I want to make, saying he doesn’t care; he just needs to be somewhere on Tuesdays.

***

The bar bustled with people on Fridays , groups of colleagues and friends drunkenly laughing and smiling as they shuffled in and out. Buckets of beers and rounds of shots giving a sense of community to all the patrons filling the walls.

Except for her, I noticed her the first time she came in—several months ago. She sat at the bar and kept to herself, always ordering a gin and tonic and quietly swirling it with the stirrer while she read journals—medical journals, I’d learned. I’d seen man after man attempt to buy her a drink or strike up a conversation—and I understood why. She’s beautiful, with soft blue eyes and striking red hair; I don’t think she realizes just how stunning she is since she always seems surprised by these advances. She always turned them down.

***

Last Tuesday , I got up the courage to ask him if he wanted to grab a drink with me on some night other than a Tuesday at some bar other than here. The awkward smile on his face answered my question faster than his lips could. “That’s so kind of you, but I’m really busy with work and,” he’d stopped talking and sighed.

“You have a girlfriend?” I asked. “It’s okay.”

“Not exactly,” he’d said.

And then, in a tale as old as time, he bared his soul to a bartender because that’s what people do. He loved his coworker. She’s incredibly smart and so sexy, and I always think about her , he’d said. He told me he came in on Tuesdays because that was the night she went to church meetings with her mother, and he hated being home alone, knowing he couldn’t call her and she wouldn’t call him.

“Have you told her how you feel,” I asked, serving him the martini I thought he needed tonight.

“No,” he laughed, “Absolutely not. There are rules against us being together like that—at work—and I don’t think she feels the same way.”

“And nothing has ever happened?” I asked.

He looked reluctant, his eyes shooting from mine to stare into his drink. “One time, I almost kissed her, and she looked terrified.”

“So you stopped?”

“No,” he scoffed. “A fucking bee stung her before I even had the chance.”

“A bee?” I said, grabbing a refill on a draft for a regular as I continued to talk. “What are the chances.”

“And now my ex-girlfriend is working with us, and that’s causing friction too.”

“Ah,” I said. “And you aren’t interested in your ex-girlfriend?”

“I’m only interested in one woman—my partner. That is why, as sweet as you are, I can’t agree to hang out in good conscience. My heart is with her.”

“I get it,” I smiled. It was okay; it truly was. “You’re just cute, is all.”

He blushed and smiled, throwing a twenty on the bar. “I wish she thought so.”

***

Two Fridays ago, she came in particularly alive—feisty, combative; I didn’t know her quite well enough to put a name to it. She drank her gin and tonic in half the time as usual and quickly ordered another one.

I filled a bucket with beers for a bachelorette party in the corner, cleared some cash off the bar from a group that had just left, and then headed back to her with drink number two.

“So what’s the occasion,” I asked, “you seem to be hitting it a little hard tonight.”

“It’s a long story,” she said.

“Try me,” I offered. She sighed. “Hey, Ralph, I’m taking my break,” I yelled to the other bartender.

I offered her a hand, and she followed me to the back alley. “So what’s going on? You alright,” I asked as I pulled a cigarette from my shirt pocket.

“I’m in love with my co-worker,” she said, looking at me shyly as if to check for any judgment.

“Okay. And something must have happened today?”

“His ex-girlfriend is back in the picture and trying to get back together with him.”

“Okay. Hold on. Back up. Does he know you like him?” I asked.

“No, definitely not,” she chuckled. “We aren’t allowed to be together like that anyway, it’s against our work policy.”

“Aren’t you a doctor?” I said, taking a drag off the cigarette. “If so—one, please don’t judge me for this habit,” I teased, holding up my cigarette. “And for two, I thought all the doctors were in relationships like on E.R.” She smiled and reached her hand toward mine, asking for a puff. I grinned and offered it to her.

“I am a doctor,” she said taking a long drag. “But I don’t work as a doctor, and also, I share this habit…very occasionally, when I’m stressed,” she smiled.

“What do you do?” I asked.

“F.B.I. Agent,” she said as if it was a regular job like a banker or a teacher.

“F.B.I. Agent?” I repeat. “Wow. You are very hot, do you know that? No offense, but all these men hit on you Friday after Friday. I wondered why you were never interested,” I take another drag, “it turns out you are into your co-worker, but it also turns out you are even hotter than I thought or these men thought because you are a doctor and work for the F.B.I.?”

She laughed. “I guess so. But it’s not enough for him. He’s never really tried anything with me—it’s been years.”

“Never? I find that hard to believe,” I said. “I’ve been wanting to ask you out, actually. But I get that your mind is on someone else.”

She smiled, not answering, but it was clear to me that her answer would be no. “He tried to kiss me once. I thought it was going to happen, and the whole thing felt like slow motion. I was so nervous, after all these years, panicking about how I wanted to make it good. I wanted it to be the best kiss he’d ever had.”

“And?” I ask.

“And I got stung by a bee just as his lips were grazing mine,” she reached her hand up and stroked a finger across her lip, almost like she could recall the feeling.

“And now his ex?”

“Well, she was back before that happened, but now she’s really back and around more, and I’m pretty sure he’s spending time with her.”

“Why do you think that?” I asked.

“These Friday nights—he says he’s going to his friends, but I’m guessing he’s with her. That’s why I come here—I don’t want to be alone.”

“Maybe you need to talk to him about it?” I offer.

“Maybe,” she smiled, taking one more puff on the cigarette. “Thanks for this—the chat, I mean. I’m going to take off.”

She handed me a twenty and walked off.

***

During football season, Sundays at the bar were packed; tons of Washington fans filled the walls, chanting the fight song for hours on end. I started to clean up as the masses dwindled, a close loss taking the air out of the party. Marty, a friend for years, was on shift with me that day, and we hadn’t caught up in weeks.

We bantered as we washed pilsner glasses, him reminding me of our pact to get married if we were both single at thirty-five.

“There was a regular that I see, that I had my eye on,” he teased, handing me a freshly cleaned glass to dry and put away.

“Oh yeah?” I joked back, “Looks like a Barbie?”

“No,” he chuckled. “Pretty redhead, brilliant, but she’s in love with her co-worker. Guy hasn’t made a move on her, and it’s been years. Tried to kiss her once, but you won’t believe this—a bee—”

“Stung her?” I asked, shocked. My hand flew to my mouth in surprise.

“Yeah!” he said. “You’ve heard this story?”

“Funny enough, a regular I have a little crush on told me the same story,” I squinted at him, curious. “Your girl—the redhead—she isn’t an F.B.I. agent, is she?”

His eyes grew wide.

****

And that’s how Marty and I found ourselves the following Sunday , anxious with anticipation after we’d talked his regular and my regular into coming in. He told her his mom desperately needed medical advice. I told him my ex-boyfriend planned to stop in town and usually gave me trouble. We felt bad for the lies, but they were necessary. They agreed to show up around noon.

Luckily, the football team had a late game, so the bar wasn’t too busy yet.

She walked in first, taking a seat on her normal stool. Marty was right; she was beautiful, and I see why my regular was into her; she didn’t even realize it. Marty told her his mother was running a few minutes late and made her a gin and tonic on the house.

He walked in about five minutes later, and the absolute heat, the friction, the intensity that bounded between them when their eyes connected was like nothing I’d ever seen.

“Mulder,” she’d said. “What are you doing here?”

“My friend Kim,” he gestured to me, “Needed help with a problematic ex. What are you doing here?”

“Marty,” she pointed at him, “his mom needed medical advice. Mulder, do you come here often?”

He sat beside her, the question unanswered as I distracted them with a shot of tequila each.

“Drink this. Trust me,” I said.

They both shrugged and downed the amber liquid before Marty, and I started in on our explanations.

“See, I have this regular,” he held his palm toward her, “sweet girl, very smart and sexy, but when I showed her a little interest, she’d admitted to me that she’s in love with her co-worker. There is no one else she could be interested in.”

The girl—Dana, I’d learned—looked like a deer in headlights, so I jumped right in, grabbed her hand, and talked to her directly.

“And I have this regular,” I nodded my head towards him while I held her eyes. “Smart, handsome guy. I asked him out once, but it turns out he’s also in love with his co-worker.”

They both took deep breaths, neither looking at the other.

“Mine said her co-worker tried to kiss her once, then a bee stung her,” Marty continued.

“And mine said when he tried to kiss her, she looked scared, and then a bee stung her.”

“I wasn’t scared, Mulder; I was just so nervous,” she admitted, finally turning to him. “I wanted it to be perfect because it’s you.”

He looked at her with a big smile, but they were both silent. “Another shot of tequila?” Marty asked.

“No,” Mulder said, staring into her eyes and taking her hands. “I want us both to be sober when I kiss her,” he smiled as he turned to us and threw forty dollars on the bar, “There aren’t any bees around here, are there?”

“No,” Marty laughed.

“Then forgive me; I don’t want to waste another second,” he said, his eyes back on hers. He leaned into her slowly, like something out of a movie, and her lips parted and eyes closed just as their noses brushed. It was a passionate kiss—it felt so private, almost elicited a feeling in me like I was watching a peep show, but I understood these two just needed to get the ball rolling and stop pushing their feelings down.

Marty and I turned to wash dishes just as I saw his tongue push inside. I could still hear the smacking of their lips and a small moan from her.

“You really like me, Scully. Like, like me, like me?”

“Yeah. So much,” she whispered. “But I thought…”

“What?” he asked. So sweetly.

“I thought you and Diana.”

He chuckled. “No. No, I want this. I want you. I’ve been coming here on Tuesdays to drown my sorrows, worried that your mom would finally find some accountant at church that would steal you away.”

“No one could steal me away,” she said. I heard them kissing again, the sounds changing like maybe he was kissing her neck now. “So you are really with the Gunmen on Fridays? That’s when I’d come here, worrying you were with her.”

“Really with the Gunmen,” he said, and Marty and I shot each other a confused glare about why he hung out with gunmen, but then again, they are F.B.I. agents.

“Mulder,” I heard her say in a sweetly seductive voice.

“Scully, can I get you out of here? Go to your place or wherever you want?”

“Yeah, my place.”

I turned at that, hoping to say goodbye. Mulder smiled at me as she whispered something secret in his ear. “Me too, I want that too,” he said to her; she was glowing.

“Thanks, you two,” Mulder said as they stood from their stools, and he wrapped his arms around her. “We owe you.”

“Ain't love grand,” Marty said as they stepped through the door and onto the street.

“For some,” I teased.

“Why haven’t you let me take you out? Remind me?” he said, reaching his hand to find mine in the hot soapy water.

“We aren’t thirty-five yet,” I answered.

“Why wait?” he said, stroking his fingers along the inside of my palm.

***

We hadn’t seen them in months; we hoped they were happy and healthy and onto a new start together. Finally, one stormy Sunday , they walked in together, hand-in-hand, and sat at the bar.

“Hey,” I said, happily. “We were wondering about you two. It seems all is well?”

Marty came around the corner and seemed just as excited.

“Hey, Kim. All is really good,” Mulder said. “Listen, this is a secret because of our work, but we felt you two should know. We are eloping. It just feels—” he turned to look at her.

“Feels right,” she said, completing his sentence. “We just wanted to thank you, it’s all because of you.”

“I have a feeling you two would have figured it out eventually,” I teased.

“Just like we did,” Marty added.

Mulder’s head turned in interest. “Wait, you two?”

I smiled and showed off the diamond ring on my finger. “We eloped a month ago. You two are taking it too slow; I guess,” I teased.

“Congrats,” they said to us. After a celebratory shot, they left. I realized we might never see them again, but alls well, that ends well, I thought, as Marty leaned in to kiss me.

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#the x files #fox mulder #dana scully #msr #todayinfic #today-in-fic #today in fic #mulder and scully #bartender

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a-cix · 5 months

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Draft 3.2k - The Prince and The Bull

Or: Omega prince Jungkook prepares for and recovers from a good, hard fuck. draft, unfinished project from last year

ideas:

Jungkook’s whatever birthday

Jungkook gets to select an alpha

Taehyung is in line

They fuck but Jungkook pretends not to like it, tells him to hurry up and cum fast

Tags: Body worship; enemas; foot fetish; royal and servant dynamic, prince Jungkook; omega Jungkook

Summary: On Fridays, Jungkook has a ritual: finish his work early, retire to his chambers, and prepare for his night with Taehyung. What started out as simply a part of his duties to produce an heir becomes something he looks forward to every week. But he tries not to show Taehyung how much he enjoys it.

They do this once a week. Usually, it’s on Fridays, after Jungkook’s busy week is concluded, when he has a moment to rest, and has the next day off. It’s best for him to have a day to recuperate from these nights. However, this week, it’s on Monday. Taehyung couldn’t make it on Friday; something had come up, apparently.

Jungkook shifts. He’s sitting on the edge of his bed, hands tucked under his thighs. His cock is already fattening up in his pants, because there’s a ritual to this, and his body knows what to expect. That, and this is happening three days late. On Friday, coming back to his chambers and finally getting a moment alone, sending his caretaker away so that he can wash the day off and cleanse himself, get ready for bed, the usual, his body had come to expect it. The relief of the end of the week was always followed by the heady, sublime experience of Taehyung coming to the palace for his weekly duties. But on Friday, no one came. Jungkook went to bed that night gripping his silky sheets and rutting his hard cock against the mattress as he tried to fall asleep. He had lain awake for much longer than usual.

He feels the need to make up for it tonight. He had taken extra care with his preparation ritual, clearing his schedule after dinner, even though Mondays are typically one of his busiest evenings, when he has to review paperwork and letters that have piled up over the weekend. Instead, he retired to his chambers right after eating and sent his caretaker home.

“Are you sure?” he had asked, fingers twisting together as he stood there in the hall, unsure of what to do with his hands as they were suddenly no longer needed to do their single task of taking care of crown prince Jeon Jungkook.

“Yes,” Jungkook said. “I have my visitor coming tonight, and I would like to get ready alone, as always.”

His caretaker had left with a gracious bow.

To prepare, he began with a light shower, rinsing off the grime of the day. He set up a diffuser with some of his favourite essential oils, as well as a few drops of ylang-ylang, although that one isn’t particularly to his tastes. Still, it is a supposed aphrodisiac, and although it may be placebo, he finds himself more aroused when he uses it. It may also be because he includes it as part of his ritual.

Once he rinses himself off, he cleans himself out. This is the primary reason he likes to be alone for this. His caretaker has seen him in many compromising positions, but none like this. The first part is not so bad. He fills his enema bulb with lukewarm water and fills himself on the floor. He likes to do it on his side, with his leg raised up on the edge of the bathtub, a plush towel laid under him so that he isn’t lying on the cold tile. He has to stretch his arm back to pull the fat of his asscheek out of the way and uses lube to help the tip glide in. He closes his eyes as he fills himself, inhaling the soft, floral scent of the essential oils and listening to the hum of the fan above him. The warm water feels nice entering him. The next part is not so nice, but is a necessary evil. He used to grimace as he expelled, perturbed by the feeling of such a warm, watery movement and embarrassed by the gurgles of his stomach. But he’s gotten used to it, and now, as he does most things, he handles it with grace—or as much grace as possible, given the circumstances. He does this a few more times until the water runs clear.

After this, he takes another shower. It takes him over an hour. He washes himself thoroughly with lavender-scented body wash, using a loofah to exfoliate. He also exfoliates his heels and around the edges of his feet with a pumice stone, although they are already quite smooth given his tender lifestyle. He then shampoos and conditions his hair with products that smell like magnolias. He shaves with his safety razor, using a new blade each day, running his fingertips along the diamonds encrusted in the handle as he slicks the blade up his leg, reminding himself of his dignity and grace despite having just engaged in an activity that makes him feel shameful and dirty. His leg hair is sparse and always well-maintained, so there is never much hair to remove, but he takes care with it anyway, foaming up each leg and taking care with the blade to ensure no nicks or scrapes. He must be absolutely perfect. He shaves his groin and the strands of hair around his asshole with the same level of care. After this, he does the same with his armpits, and then finishes off with removing the few strands of hair growing on the tops of his big toes.

When he steps out, his body feels tender and pliant, as though his bones and muscles were dissolved in the heat of the shower. He towels himself off, using separate towels for his face and body, and a special microfiber one for his hair. Then he shaves his face in the lingering steam, the little coarse facial hair he has turned supple from the shower. He uses a different lotion for this face and body. The one for his face has no fragrance and contains ceramides to soothe any redness and make him look bright and young. The one for his body smells like peaches. He used to use an unscented one sometimes, but Taehyung has expressed a preference for this one.

I love fucking you when you smell like a princess.

Each time Jungkook applies this lotion, he recalls those words Taehyung had said to him, during one of their first nights together. He’d said it against his ear, chest pressed to Jungkook’s back, hand on his waist to keep him still and stop him from arching and wiggling as Taehyung pushed into his dripping hole. The memory of it still makes Jungkook shiver.

After all that, he stretches himself open. His asshole has had a chance to relax after the enema. He pops open the lube that he keeps in his bathroom cabinet specifically for this. Of course, he has a separate bottle of lube in his nightstand, which he poured into a pretty little pump bottle. It’s for easy access, because Taehyung likes to get Jungkook sopping wet.

He dims the lights when he does this part, because he only needs them at full brightness to ensure he’s removed all his hair. He sits on a towel—not the same one as before, but a fresh one—and spreads his legs, leaning back a bit so he can watch himself do this in the full-length mirror of his spacious bathroom. He dims the lights and rubs his lubed finger against his rim. He always begins with his middle finger. He bears down and feels his asshole pucker around his finger, and when he relaxes, it slowly pulls his fingertip into his body. Once he’s pressing against the inner ring, he breathes and looks at himself while he waits for his inner ring to relax. He takes in his long legs, perfectly smooth, his pretty feet, the soft soles and well-maintained toenails, his firm abdomen, a fold at his belly button in this bent position, and his soft chubby cock lying between his legs, resting over his pert balls, gently fattening up as he teases his hole. His hair needs some work at this stage. It rests flat on his head, slightly damp and mussed up from the towel, but not frizzy; the microfiber towel ensures that.

His toes curl when he slides the first finger past the inner ring. His body sucks it in, his greedy little hole already knowing what’s coming. Then he pushes a second in, holding them still and clenching, releasing, clenching around them until he can wiggle his fingers around. He rubs his walls, feeling the pillowy softness inside. Taehyung always tells him how soft and warm he is on the inside, how there’s no resistance, how Jungkook is a perfect little cockslut who takes it like he’s made for it.

Finally, he gets to the locked drawer: the final step of his showering routine. He had unlocked it earlier using the key he keeps in the top left drawer of his vanity table. No one goes through his vanity table, because he has so many products and is very particular about keeping them organized, keeping track of which ones are going to expire soon and keeping them separated by category—the lip drawer, the concealer drawer, the eyeliner drawer, which is, of course, separate from the eyeshadow and mascara drawer. There’s a false bottom in the top left drawer, where he keeps his perfumes. Under it, he keeps the key to this drawer in the bathroom, which contains his sex toys.

He removes his fingers from himself and reaches up to pull the drawer open and take out a buttplug. Of course, he has many, but he likes this one the best. He had it custom-made from a friend of a friend who lives outside the palace, among the general populace. Jungkook isn’t allowed out there alone, so he had passed a note to one of his cousins who has less status, and thus more freedom.

“Don’t open it,” Jungkook had said as he furtively slipped Hoseok the note.

“Don’t worry bro, I don’t wanna know what kinda custom gadget you’re having made. We’re close, but we’re not that close.”

The plug has a very wide neck that does a good job of keeping him open for Taehyung. Taehyung is very thick, so thick that the first night they shared together, they hadn’t been able to continue, because Jungkook couldn’t take it. Taehyung was very understanding and told him he could let the king know and find another bull for Jungkook, but Jungkook does not quit. He shook his head and told Taehyung to come back next week. Back then, he had thinner plugs that worked well enough, but they weren’t perfect. This new plug is pink tempered glass with a giant flared base. Jungkook had asked for it to be made this way, with specific measurements and all, and requested it to be pink Taehyung had said once that he liked when Jungkook dressed up pretty in pink for him.

He coats the plug in thick silicone lube and presses the blunt tip against his asshole. His hole immediately suctions onto it and he doesn’t need to push at all to get the plug halfway in. He breathes deeply, relaxing himself from the inside out as he gets closer to the widest part of the plug. A soft moan slips from his throat when the plug gets to the fattest part, stretching his asshole open wide before it pops into his rectum, his asshole clenching up around the fat base. It winks and twitches a few times. He wipes his fingers on the towel and holds his legs up from under the knees, admiring his handiwork. His pink hole is stretched tight around the plug, and even with the soft light refracting through the glass, he can see his open cavern and the way the lube drips all around his hole. His cock is already hard, and his body thrums in anticipation. But he still has more to do.

Once he’s cleaned all the lube and towels up, he steps out of the steamy bathroom and into the cool air of his room, with just a towel—again, fresh—wrapped around his waist. He had already selected his outfit, which he had laid out on the bed: a soft, loose-fitting t-shirt in baby blue, tight briefs that hug his hips, and a pair of tight black shorts that go only to the upper thigh. He used to wear a more proper outfit for these nights, with buttons and buckles and stiffer fabrics that made him look proper and princely, but Taehyung said he prefers when Jungkook is easily accessible. He comes here for a reason. There’s no need for fancy clothes.

Still, Jungkook likes to look good for Taehyung. He checks his appearance in the full-length mirror in his bedroom, toes wiggling in the soft carpet. He lifts his shirt up to check his ass, squeezing the plumpness with satisfaction. Taehyung loves this ass. Jungkook arches his back, appreciating the ripple of his lower back muscles and the way it makes his ass jut out. The position makes him feel a shot of arousal, because he always presents himself like this for Taehyung.

He does the final touches at his vanity table. He fixes his hair, styling it to frame his face nicely and show off his facial structure. He applies some lip balm, just a touch, to make them look pouty and kissable. Taehyung particularly likes Jungkook’s lips and often compliments the shape of them, how smooth and pink they are, how good they look wrapped around Taehyung’s cock.

Then Jungkook waits.

So here he is, sitting on the edge of his bed, fingers tucked under his thighs. Waiting. He glances at the clock. Taehyung should have been here five minutes ago. He wiggles around, feeling antsy. He looks at his toes, wiggles them on the carpet, and takes note that he isn’t wearing socks. He gets up and puts on a pair, the kind that go halfway up to the knee, because Taehyung expressed that he likes the way Jungkook’s feet look in socks, and he especially likes taking them off. Then he sits back in his spot and waits.

Finally, he hears the sounds he’s been waiting for. A murmur of voices down the hall, one coming from one of the guards on rotation, the other one deep and familiar and comforting. His thighs press together in anticipation as he hears the footsteps coming down the hall—just one pair. It used to be that the guards would escort Taehyung to Jungkook’s chambers, but they’ve been doing this long enough that he has been trusted to enter alone.

Then, the final step of the ritual—a knock at the door.

Jungkook’s entire body shudders. It knows what’s coming. Everything about this ritual has steadily gotten him into the headspace he is right now. His cock is fat and twitching in his briefs, and he is acutely aware of the deep, full sensation of his ass from the plug.

“Come in,” Jungkook says.

Taehyung is beautiful tonight, as always. His wavy black hair falls gracefully around his eyes, contrasting against his smooth, tan skin. He is wearing a black button-up shirt, neatly tucked into his pants that cling to his svelte legs. He smiles when he sees Jungkook, but it’s not a warm sort of smile, the kind Taehyung gives him at the end of their nights. No, this is a beginning-of-the-night kind of smile.

“You’re late,” Jungkook says with a pout.

Taehyung bows. “I’m sorry, Your Royal Highness.”

“Ugh. I told you not to call me that.”

“Well, since you’re acting like a spoiled prince, I figured I should address you as such.”

Jungkook huffs. “Come. I’ve been…”

“Anticipating this?” Taehyung removes his shoes at the entrance and does as Jungkook commands. “Getting antsy after you couldn’t see me on Friday?”

“No. It simply threw me off.”

“Ah, yes. I know how you are with your rituals.” Taehyung sits on the bed next to Jungkook and traces a finger down Jungkook’s neck and over his collarbone, exposed from under his loose shirt. Jungkook hums and tilts his head, revelling in the feeling of finally being touched by Taehyung.

“Yes, exactly. I stick to a routine, Taehyung. I cleared my schedule for tomorrow morning, but I will need to get to work in the afternoon. Mondays are not ideal for me.”

“I apologize, my prince. I could skip this week and simply return on Friday, if you’d like.”

“No. You’re here now. We have our duties to fulfill.”

“Hm.” Taehyung smirks as he sits back to appraise Jungkook. “We do. How would you like me to begin? Same as always?”

“Of course.”

Taehyung gets on his knees on the carpet and settles between Jungkook’s legs, pushing his thighs apart with his large hands. Jungkook swallows, looking at the way the soft, warm light catches on Taehyung’s knuckles, shadows in the dips of the joints. He has such long fingers that feel so, so amazing. Jungkook shifts, pressing deeper into his firm bed and feeling the buttplug shift inside him.

Taehyung locks eyes with Jungkook as he peels his socks off, starting with the left one, as always. He kisses the side of Jungkook’s foot, pressing his lips to the smooth arch, then moving up to kiss the bottom of his big toe.

“Mmh. Your feet smell good.”

“I should hope so. I cleaned them thoroughly.”

“You always do, my prince. Always so clean and perfect.”

Taehyung moves onto the right foot, removing the rock and kissing up Jungkook’s arch. He pokes his tongue out to lick from the arch to the big toe, which he then takes into his mouth, sucking gently. Jungkook shudders at the warmth and wetness circling the sensitive skin, feeling Taehyung’s tongue dip into the thin webs of skin between his toes. He has come to associate the feeling of having his toes sucked with sex and pleasure, as Taehyung has fucked him on his back many times with Jungkook’s toes in his mouth. Taehyung presses sloppy kisses down Jungkook’s foot, massaging the sole of the other one with his strong thumb. He strokes a hand down Jungkook’s calf and hums appreciatively, massaging the muscle and freshly shaved skin.

“So beautiful,” Taehyung murmurs, moving to kiss Jungkook’s ankle, then up his calf, bending his leg upward to kiss near the backs of his knees. Jungkook leans back on his elbows, letting Taehyung kiss all the way up his thigh until he’s nuzzling at the bulge in Jungkook’s tight pants, hot breath flowing over his compressed erection, twitching against the fabric.

“For someone who claims to only be doing this as part of his duty, you sure do put a lot of effort into each and every time.”

“Hm?”

“You think I don’t notice? I love how beautiful and clean you are each time I come over. Of course, you’re always beautiful, my prince. But on our nights together, you are exceptionally so.”

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