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jaeyuniversal · 2 months ago

Text

you broke me first - l.hs

pairing: virgin!lee heeseung x experienced fem!reader

synopsis: you and heeseung are the school’s golden pair — popular, admired, and constantly shipped. the only problem? you can’t stand him. from competing on exams to gym class, you’re always neck and neck, and no one gets under your skin like he does. but while you see a rival, he sees the love of his life. when you overhear a hushed conversation that breaks you, will heeseung be able to win you back?

featuring: all of enha, winter from aespa, yuqi from (g)i-dle, and keeho from p1h

genre: angst... slow burn, some fluff, kissing, skinship, SMUTTTT, college au, first love trope?? sorta? one sided enemies to lovers

warnings: smut so mdni (18+), alcohol consumption, vandalizing property, Sexual Tension, everyone is around the same age (21-23), lowercase intended <3

playlist: you broke me first by tate mcrae & what was i made for — billie eilish

(smut warnings under cut!)

wc: 13.271k

a/n: first fic is here! plsplspls leave feedback as anything helps!! was listening to you broke me first and got inspo for a kinda angsty fic pls bare with me :3 anyways! enjoy the read <3<3

smut content: mention of toys (but no use), fingering, squirting, unprotected sex (not for you), dry humping, switch! hee and reader, riding, mating press, too much kissing, masturbation (m.), breeding kink, slight dacryphilia, oral (m. & f.), deepthroating, belly bulge, creampie, size kinkish, big dick! hee, not much aftercare but it's like fluffy, y/n has a “reputation” that she gets around, VIRGIN HEESEUNG (but no one knows…) i think thats it? lmk if i missed anything ◡̈

not proofread!

lee. fucking. heeseung. you hate him. you can't stand him. he always knows what to say just to piss you off. you might be wondering, "why don't you just try to avoid him?" the issue is... you do. you try with ALL your power but to no avail, he's in the same friend group as you.

your friends, knowing you hate him, decided to combine friend groups to see if you and him could mend things. spoiler alert: it failed miserably.

you felt safe in your small circle with keeho (the man you deemed to be your biological older brother — you aren't related), yuqi (your junior high best friend), and winter (your literal wife).

you guys were well known around the entire city of seoul for being the "it group" — always partying, hooking up, and somehow still acing every class (while nursing massive hangovers).

however, heeseung's friend group consisted of the golden boys in decelis university: park jongseong (known as jay, he hates his given name), sim jaeyun (known as the australian transfer student, jake), park sunghoon (the insanely hot figure skater), kim sunoo (the bubbliest person you've ever met), yang jungwon (the boy with feline features, however you've made a special note to never piss him off cause he has a black belt), and nishimura riki (known as ni-ki because he wanted to be different).

you loved riki. he was like your younger brother — chaotic, blunt, and always three steps ahead of everyone. you’d even joked once that if you had to suffer heeseung’s presence, at least you got riki out of it.

unfortunately, riki had the worst habit of instigating chaos.

“truth or dare?” he asked one friday night, grinning like he already had your life planned out. everyone was crammed into jay’s ridiculously large basement, music low, snacks half eaten, and bodies sprawled on beanbags and plush carpet.

you should’ve said “truth.” you knew you should’ve. but you weren’t a coward.

“dare,” you answered, arms crossed, eyes sharp.

the group erupted in ooooh's in perfect synchronicity.

riki’s grin only widened. “i dare you to sit on heeseung’s lap for five minutes.”

you almost lunged across the room.

“riki,” you hissed, “you are so dead.”

he just wiggled his brows suggestively. “i’m a baby. you wouldn’t hurt me.”

the worst part? he was right.

you looked over at heeseung, who was watching you like a cat watching a cornered mouse — lazy smirk, fingers casually drumming against his knee. “scared, sweetheart?”

“i’ll kill you in your sleep,” you said sweetly as you stalked over and dropped yourself into his lap like he was made of cardboard and air.

he oofed, not because you were heavy, but because he wasn’t expecting you to actually do it.

“wow,” he murmured, lips near your ear. “you smell like citrus and bad decisions.”

you resisted the urge to elbow him in the ribs.

five minutes. you just had to survive five minutes.

but then his hands casually settled on your waist, and you felt it — the spark. the electric, traitorous, goddamn spark that told you this was a very, very bad idea.

because maybe, just maybe, your hatred wasn’t as pure as you thought- no. what are you thinking??? you immediately shook the feeling that was buzzing inside you and blamed it on the alcohol swimming in your blood.

you definitely. hated heeseung. yup, yeah, you really did.

heeseung on the other hand? he was just praying to every god he could think of that you couldn't feel how sweaty his palms were getting.

because he was panicking. full blown, internal screaming, oh-no-she’s-sitting-on-me-and-she’s-warm kind of panicking. he hadn't expected you to actually follow through on your usual threats, much less practically straddle him in front of your mutual friends.

but now? now he was just trying to not pass out from the sheer force of your perfume and presence and the weight of years of unresolved tension that sat heavier than you ever could.

"you're sweating," you said flatly, side eyeing him with that expression that usually meant murder or mockery — or both. "you good?"

"totally," he croaked. "i always nearly die when beautiful people threaten me. it's, like, my thing."

you blinked once. twice.

"did you just call me beautiful?"

"i said what i said," he muttered, then immediately regretted everything.

your brows lifted in slow, dangerous amusement. "you feeling okay, heeseung? you hitting on me while i’m threatening you?”

“wouldn’t be the first time,” he said, almost too quiet for you to hear.

and there it was again. the spark. like a lighter flicked too close to your frayed nerves.

you looked away, choosing to focus on literally anything else, but his grip on your waist tightened just slightly, grounding you, almost daring you to acknowledge it.

“how much longer do i have to sit on this assholes lap?” you questioned under your breath, reminding yourself, reminding him, that this was temporary.

"4 minutes!" jake sang back as his accented voice rang in your ears. fuck, it's only been one minute? you thought to yourself... until he spoke.

“i could ruin us in three,” he whispered, warm breath tickling your ear. he was so close you could practically feel his labored breathing against your back. you craned your neck to the side so you could look him in the eyes, "what did you just say???" heeseung was at a loss for words — his brain only drawing blanks.

did he say what he thought he said in his head out loud? impossible. he's hidden it so well, no one in your guys' shared friend group had even suspected his overbearing attraction towards you.

so heeseung did the only thing he could think of. he gulped.

just as your gaze dropped to his adams apple, sunghoon cleared his throat, reducing the fiery tension between you two to reduce to a simmer. "time's up" he stated. and just like that, the warmth you once shared was gone.

as the game progressed, the most interesting things to occur were jake kissing sunghoon on the cheek, riki vandalizing an old alley way that never saw the sun, and winter lady-and-the-tramping a twizzler with keeho.

you and heeseung never dared to even spare a glance in each other's direction for the rest of the night.

───

you laid awake, staring at the ceiling in jay's basement while trying to get comfy on the leather couch that probably cost more than your entire wardrobe. you couldn't sleep. and the reason? none other than your self-proclaimed arch nemesis: lee heeseung.

your friend groups slept on different floors to prevent you and heeseung arguing and waking up the entire house. you slowly got up, attempting and (barely) succeeding to not step on a sleeping figure sprawled on the floor.

as you walk up the stairs from the basement, you hear two people whisper shouting at each other.

you glance at the time displayed on your phone.

a measly 3:16 am stared brightly at you. who's awake at this hour?? as you step closer to the hushed voices, you think you can make out the unmistakeable deepness of riki's voice and heeseung's annoying(ly hot) whispers, tinged with sleep.

"why the fuck would you dare HER of all people to sit on MY lap????" heeseung shouts quietly, clearly frustrated. riki bursts into a fit of giggles. "dude, don't tell me you feel something for her, don't you guys like hate each other?" he says between snide little chuckles.

heeseung freezes. there's no way riki really caught on to what he was supposed to never let slip through the cracks... right?! so he musters up all the dignity he has left and defensively grunts a series of defenses "nowhywouldieverseeherlikethatsheisn'tmytypeandithinkshe'sgross"

riki blankly stares back at heeseung's panicking eyes, "okayyy," he drags the word out, "you don't need to put her down like that, she's like my older sister, dude" riki spits back.

your lips twitch in a small smile, just for a second. just long enough for riki to catch your eyes peeking behind the corner. he nods once, subtle and solid. always in your corner.

but the comfort dies as soon as heeseung opens his mouth.

"i could never love someone like her."

and the world stops.

he says it so casually. almost like it’s a joke. like it's just another throwaway comment tossed between drinks and half-meant insults. but it lands with the weight of something cruelly true — or at least, something you believe he means.

you feel the breath hitch in your throat. just once.

riki's gaze is drawn to your frozen frame. and that's when everything freezes. heeseung whips around to see you standing there. eyes blown and glossy.

riki shifts, but he doesn’t move to try and console you — he knows better. knows this is something that'll bruise. something you need time to process, alone.

you bite back tears. “right,” you say, quietly. “of course.”

heeseung’s expression flickers — confusion, regret, something else — but you’ve already masked the pain. emotion draining from your face like you’ve trained for it. like it’s a sport. like if you stop moving, the hurt will catch up.

“i didn’t mean it like that,” he says, a little too late, a little too soft.

you readjust your posture, fixing your shirt.

“you meant it exactly like that,” you reply, and it’s not even bitter. it’s worse. numb.

riki’s there before heeseung can say anything else. standing between you like a wall. like a shield.

“walk away,” he tells you gently, and you do.

because if you stay, you might ask him why not. and you’re not sure your heart could take the answer.

riki turns back to heeseung, flames he's never seen before burning in the younger boys irises that are normally filled with mischief and teasing glints. but all of a sudden none of that is there anymore. it's pure, unfiltered anger. raw emotion.

heeseung wants him to yell at him. say something, anything. but nothing comes. riki just walks upstairs like he doesn't even know who heeseung is anymore.

and maybe he doesn't.

───

the next morning, when heeseung wakes up, it's almost peaceful. until rain begins to tip tap on the roof and everything comes crashing down. his chest is tight and immediately swells with regret. so much he thinks it'll spill out of him just like the rain outside.

he needs to talk to you. make sure you're okay. but he knows he's the last person you want to see right now. still, he has to try

as he descends down the stairs, he doesn't smell the usual feast jay would prepare them: eggs, bacon, toast, orange juice and cereal for jake since he claims, "it doesn't hurt his tummy," (his words).

he actually doesn't see jake. nor sunghoon, sunoo, jungwon, jay, winter, yuqi, or keeho.

after last nights events, he expected not to see riki as he was probably with you.

how did he go from having the girl of his dreams sitting on his lap, to making her hate him even more?

it's simple, really: he fucked up.

he moves through the house like a ghost — rooms too quiet, air too still. no laughter, no music playing off someone’s phone. just him and the rain.

the basement still has the blanket you’d curled up with last night. your mug — half full. he picks it up, and it’s cold. like him.

he tries to call riki. no answer.

he tries to call you.

it goes straight to voicemail.

he types out a text. deletes it. tries again.

“i didn’t mean what i said. i didn’t mean to hurt you. i'm sorry, y/n”

he stares at it. sends it.

and immediately regrets it. because what if you never answer?

as he packs up all his belongings, ready for the uncomfortable drive home, someone enters the house.

heeseung's heart rate picks up. what if it's you? he bolts down the stairs and is ultimately disappointed when he's met with a very disapproving jay.

they stand across from one another, staring into each others eyes.

heeseung's the first to break. he collapses on the bar stool at the counter and drops his head into his hands like it weighs a ton.

jay just sighs and sits down next to his friend.

"is she okay?" heeseung mumbles, his face buried in his hands.

jay’s jaw tightens. "why do you care?" he snaps. "you sure as hell didn’t last night when you said you could never love someone like her."

the words hit hard — harder than jay intended — and heeseung shatters.

the sobs break out of him like a dam giving way, loud and raw. tears stream down his face, and the sound of it makes jay flinch, caught off guard by how real the pain is. how broken heeseung suddenly looks.

still, jay moves without thinking, reaching out and rubbing slow circles on his friend’s back. it doesn’t fix anything, but it softens the edges of the moment.

they sit there in silence, the storm outside echoing the one inside, as heeseung cries himself hoarse.

by the time he’s able to breathe steadily again, nearly an hour has passed. his eyes are red, his voice barely there. he lifts his head and meets jay’s gaze; tired looking into just as tired.

neither of them says much. there’s no need.

finally, jay sighs and stands. “go grab your stuff,” he says quietly. “you’re in no shape to drive. i’ll take you home.”

heeseung doesn’t argue.

because for once, he knows jay’s right.

───

your phone dings.

dni: i didn't mean what i said. i didn't mean to hurt you. i'm sorry, y/n

you stare at your phone. gaze void of emotion. you've cried out everything you could muster.

you don't even know why heeseung's words echo in your head.

were you really that intolerable to be around? surely you weren't. all of heeseung's friends enjoyed hanging out with you and same with your little group.

so why did hearing your supposed enemy say he could never love someone like you hurt so bad?

you suppose you need to distract yourself from thinking that heeseung's words have any sort of impact on you. and that's when your door swings open. riki, yuqi, winter, keeho, sunghoon, jake, sunoo, and jungwon walk into your apartment with food, video games, board games, coloring books, skincare — everything you needed at the moment.

a break.

a break from your spiraling thoughts and endless questions you didn't want answered.

there's a knock at the door, jay comes in after he dropped heeseung off, with a freshly made cake, red velvet. your favorite.

you don’t move at first.

the warmth of your friends floods the apartment — laughter, chatter, the familiar rustle of takeout bags and the buzz of game controllers syncing. but it feels distant, like you’re underwater, watching from behind a thick pane of glass.

yuqi wraps her arms around you from behind, cheek resting on your shoulder. “we got your favorite pork buns,” she says softly.

you nod. you don’t trust your voice.

riki’s the one who notices your phone still clutched in your hand. screen glowing. that message. his message.

he doesn’t say anything, but he takes the phone from you gently, pressing the lock button, letting the screen fade to black. and you’re grateful. because if you kept staring at it, you might’ve started crying again, and you didn’t think you had anything left in you.

“movie?” sunghoon offers, holding up a stack of dvd's none of you ever returned to the library.

“coloring?” sunoo chirps, already spreading out gel pens across your coffee table.

“face masks?” winter insists, already tearing them open.

you let them distract you. you let them love you in the only way they know how — loudly, messily, unconditionally.

there’s a moment, in the middle of the chaos, when keeho makes a stupid joke and jungwon snorts soda out of his nose, that you laugh. actually laugh.

and then it hits you like whiplash — how easily heeseung could’ve been here. how almost close you came to letting yourself believe there was something soft behind his smirks and eye rolls. how you’d dared to hope that maybe, just maybe, the tension between you wasn’t just one-sided delusion.

but then he said it. “i could never love someone like her.”

and even with the people you love surrounding you, something in your chest hurts. like a bruise that won’t stop blooming.

later, after everyone’s settled into pillows and half-finished coloring pages, riki sits beside you. he doesn’t speak for a long time.

then, quietly, “you don’t have to pretend around me.”

and that’s when your lip trembles. just slightly.

“i don’t know why it hurts this much,” you whisper. “i knew he hated me. i knew. so why do i feel so broken?"

“he didn’t have to say it like that,” riki replies, voice firm. “he didn’t have to break something just because he couldn’t admit he wanted to hold it.”

you nod, finally letting a single tear trail down your cheek. riki wipes it away before it can fall too far.

he squeezes your hand.

“he messed up,” he says. “that’s on him. not you.”

you hold onto that — his words, their presence, the comfort of being chosen and cared for.

and for the first time since last night, you breathe. not easily. not painlessly. but it’s a start.

───

heeseung didn't know how hard it would be to try and get any information about you.

how you were doing, if you were okay. anything

your mutual friends? after hearing how massive he fucked up, they sided with you.

sure, jay, jake, sunghoon, sunoo, and jungwon would text him and hang out with him occasionally, but they wouldn't utter a word about you. most of the time heeseung saw them, it would be for awkward movie nights or when they would game together when none of them could sleep.

when he was alone, his mind ached, his chest twisted in pain, but mostly... his body ached.

he tried to stop it, he knew it was wrong.

but when you sat on his lap, something in him shifted.

sure he knew you were pretty (breathtakingly stunning), but he never imagined something he thought about constantly would ever become reality.

he thought back to those 5 minutes. the tension. surely it couldn't have just been made up in his head, right?

the way your entire body tensed when his hands rested on your hips. normally he wouldn't have touched you, but you were shifting and he needed to stop his growing problem before you noticed.

and thankfully it worked.

however, he was already hard as a brick.

his breath hitched as he remembered the look in your eyes — uncertain, but not scared. curious, maybe? or was he projecting again?

he swallowed hard, his hands now clenched at his sides like if he let them loose, they’d betray him again.

five minutes. that’s all it was. but it looped in his head like a damn broken record.

you hadn’t said a word. but your thighs had tensed. and when he shifted, trying to regain his composure, you hadn't moved away — not immediately, anyway.

maybe it meant nothing. maybe you hadn’t even noticed the way his breath had gone shallow or the way he was holding back like his life depended on it.

but god, his body remembered.

he shifted in his bed now, alone, frustrated, angry at himself. this wasn’t who he was supposed to be. he wasn’t supposed to want this — to want you — not like this. not in silence, not in secrecy, not in pain.

but the damage was already done.

and the worst part?

he wasn’t sure he even wanted to stop anymore.

as he stared at his chase atlantic posters, he thought to himself. any guy would get hard when a pretty girl sits on his lap, right? surely it isn't just because he's a pathetic virgin who's had to lie to his entire friend group about how he "gets around."

soon enough, his thoughts were interrupted by the rapidly increasing ache between his legs.

his hands trembled slightly as they hovered over the tent in his shorts. his breathing was shallow, lips parted, eyes half-lidded as if he were caught in some fever dream he didn’t want to wake up from.

he hated how much he needed this.

how much he needed you.

with a low, strangled groan, he finally gave in, palming himself over the thin fabric. the relief was immediate, but it wasn’t enough — it never was. not when the ache ran deeper than just skin. not when every nerve in his body was screaming for more.

he slipped his hand beneath his waistband, hissing through clenched teeth as his fingers wrapped around his thick length, already twitching with need. he was so hard it hurt, painfully stiff and dripping at the tip, slicking his palm almost instantly.

your name burned on his tongue, but he swallowed it back.

he couldn’t say it. shouldn’t say it.

but in his head, it echoed over and over again. your laugh. your voice. the way you looked at him — or didn’t. the way you moved. god, he remembered everything. he was haunted by it.

he shut his eyes tight and let his hand move — slow at first, starting at his base and dragging his fingers up each vein decorating the sides. his patience wore out quicker than he'd ever admit, starting to move up his length, then down with just enough pressure to make his thighs twitch. he bit his lip, hard, trying to hold in the sounds. but as the memory of you shifting in his lap played behind his eyelids like a cruel fantasy, a soft whimper escaped.

he was losing it.

desperation clawed at him with every stroke, every flex of his hand. his hips lifted off the mattress as his muscles tensed. he imagined your fingers replacing his, your body hovering over his, your breath against his neck.

“please,” he gasped into the dark — not even sure what he was begging for. forgiveness? permission? you?

he pumped harder now, faster, chasing that high like it would save him. his other hand gripped the sheets, knuckles white. he was right on the edge, falling apart with nothing but the echo of your presence and the throb of need coiled deep in his belly.

“i need — fuck, i need you,” he moaned, broken and breathless. his body was hot, slick with sweat, twitching under his own touch.

he could feel it. the band threatening to snap at any moment.

he swirled his fingers around his tip, hitting that spot that made his vision go white. he was close.

all it took to unravel him was an image of you, mouth replacing his hand. trying to fit as much of him into your mouth while he just laid there and took it.

eventually the thought was too much, his seed spilled over his stomach in thick, messy ropes, his fist slowing only when the aftershocks wracked his frame like a wave of guilt and pleasure colliding all at once.

he laid there for a moment, chest heaving, skin flushed and sticky.

and then it hit him.

he still wasn’t satisfied.

because it wasn’t your touch. it wasn’t your voice, your kiss, your heat. it was just his hand and a fantasy he couldn't let go of.

and no matter how many times he did this, no matter how many times he used the memory of you…

it was never going to be enough.

───

you’ve held it together for as long as you could — smiled through movie nights, laughed at keeho’s stupid impressions, even ate something other than ramen yesterday. but it’s all surface level. the moment you're alone again, the cracks split wide open.

there you are, sitting on your couch, drowning in your thoughts.

the faint glow of the streetlamp filters through the windows, further highlighting the text message staring back at you

“i didn’t mean it.”

it replays in your head over and over like a broken record until your vision starts to blur. tears flood your waterline but you make no effort to stop them.

you don’t sob. you just sit there, hurting so quietly it’s almost peaceful.

until it isn’t.

your lip trembles slightly, then it all comes pouring out.

“why? why did you say that? what the fuck. did i do to deserve those words?”

riki hears your quiet words from the bathroom. he comes rushing out, empathy and sadness twirling in his eyes.

“hey, hey, hey, talk to me y/n. yell at me if you need to, yeah?” he says. voice barely above a whisper. all you can choke out is a tiny “no, none of this is your fault.”

riki sits next to you, holding you, trying to piece you back together as if he were the one who broke you.

disrupting the mellow silence lingering in your apartment, there’s a knock at the door.

not wanting the worst case scenario, you answering the door to heeseung, riki gets up and makes his way to where the sound came from.

to both of your dismay, a tired heeseung stands in the doorway.

his hair is messy, dark bags under his usually teasing eyes, looking like he hasn’t slept in days.

he freezes when he sees you. your puffy eyes, shaking hands, the way you curl in on yourself like you’re trying to disappear.

riki steps in front of you, but you give him the signal to back down. you and heeseung can handle this alone. what’s another argument anyways?

as riki walks away, heeseung starts slowly “yn…”

you look at him. and no matter how hard you could have tried, nothing could have stopped you from snapping at him.

“why are you here?” “i had to see you. i had to say–” “you already said enough, heeseung.”

god. the way you say his name. all he’s thought about since you last saw each other was you saying his name. and now, he doesn’t wanna hear it ever again.

he opens his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it.

“do you know what it felt like to hear you say i wasn’t lovable? that someone like me could never be enough for you?”

as if you could read his mind, you shake your head, dismissing whatever he was about to spit out.

with every last ounce of energy you can gather, you scream. “you don’t get to feel sorry now. you made your choice the other night. i knew we had a mutual hatred, or at least some twisted distaste, but i never even thought about saying something like that to you.”

he doesn’t respond right away. just stands there, frozen. then you hear it. soft sniffles. ragged breathing. sobs.

he breaks.

because this is the first time he gets it. really, truly understands what he did. what he said. what it cost you.

“i’m sorry,” he chokes out, voice cracked and barely audible. “truly. what i said last week… i didn’t mean it. even thinking it broke me.”

you stare at him for a long, quiet second. and then you say it — flat, but shaking.

“you broke me first, heeseung.”

his breath catches. your words land like a punch to the gut, because they’re the truth. maybe the first truth spoken between you in a long time.

heeseung, who’s always so calm. so composed. the one who rolls his eyes at everything and makes everything feel like a joke. he’s crumbling in front of you now. not fighting. not defending. just falling apart.

and then it hits you. maybe he’s always been like this.

watching you. listening. never the first to strike, only ever the one to react. maybe he was never the villain in this story.

your breath hitches. maybe, just maybe, you were wrong.

you don’t know why the realization crashes down now. maybe it’s the sound of his sobs. maybe it’s the way the silence has more weight than anything he’s ever said. but something inside you shifts.

and for the first time, you see him — not as the enemy. but as the boy who let you hate him, because he didn’t know how to ask for anything else.

you replay every argument like a tape stuck on rewind. you were always the one who started it.

the snide comments. the sideways glances. the venom you dressed up as jokes.

heeseung never really fought back. he always matched your energy, sure, but he never escalated it. never crossed a line. not until that night.

your chest tightens. you realize you don’t even remember what the first fight was about. some hallway bump? a misunderstood glance? maybe it was never about anything. maybe it was just you, projecting every piece of your brokenness onto the only person who saw through it and stayed.

god, had he always stayed?

you remember in elementary school, how he used to bring you extra snacks when you forgot lunch. how he gave you his hoodie that one time you were shivering during morning assembly, even after you’d spent the entire week roasting him in front of your friends.

you remember the way his gaze always lingered—not in a way that felt invasive, but like he was always checking. watching over you without saying a word.

and now here he is. slumped into his knees. back pressed against the wall, crying over you.

you were so busy building walls with your bitterness that you didn’t notice it was slowly breaking him.

the quiet way he tried to reach over them.

you sink to the floor across from him, not close enough to touch, but close enough to feel the weight of everything between you.

for a long moment, you don’t speak. neither does he. you just breathe in the silence together — like it’s the only language you both understand.

“i didn’t know how to stop hating you,” you whisper, voice catching. “because if i stopped… i think i would’ve started needing you.”

heeseung lifts his head. eyes red, lashes wet.

“i already did,” he says. “i never stopped.”

your heart fractures in a way that doesn’t feel sharp, just tired. heavy.

“i don’t know what to do with that,” you admit.

“you don’t have to do anything,” he murmurs. “not tonight.”

you nod. once. then you help him get up. both your legs feel numb, but you walk him towards the door. your hand rests on the handle, taking a second to look up at him. really look at him, and you’re tempted to say something.

but instead, you give him the quietest thing you can offer: a small, broken sort of smile. not quite forgiveness. not quite goodbye.

then, he steps out into the night. and just like that, the quietness of everything settling in takes over. no more lies. just the truth.

as you’re deep in thought, riki walks in with two mugs of hot chocolate — extra marshmallows, your favorite.

-ˏˋ⋆ 3 years ago ⋆ˊˎ-

it’s a chilly summer night. you and riki are sprawled out on the roof of his parents' house, the shingles warm beneath your backs from the day’s lingering sun. crickets hum below. the stars blink overhead, careless and constant.

you shift slightly, seeking warmth, and without a word, riki lifts his arm. you curl into the space beside him, head on his shoulder, fingers tucked into the sleeve of his hoodie. his arm settles around you like it belongs there.

“do you think we’ll ever feel like this again?” you murmur. “peaceful. like nothing’s wrong.”

he hums low in his chest. “you mean without chaos or boys who don’t deserve you?”

you let out a breath, half a laugh. “exactly.”

there’s a pause, the kind that feels thick with unspoken things.

riki’s voice is soft when he finally speaks. “i think… the people who make you feel heavy, like you're constantly questioning yourself, that’s not love, y/n. that’s something else.”

you turn your face slightly to look up at him. he’s gazing at the stars like he’s afraid of admitting he craves the one thing he’s always sworn to never care about.

“love should never hurt,” he says, quieter this time. “not the kind that stays.”

you don’t say anything right away. you’re too busy memorizing the way the night folds around his words. the way he’s always been a comfort for you, the one to pick you up when you’re falling.

and in that moment, you believe him. you really do.

you nod once. “then i hope… when it’s my turn, it feels like this. safe.”

riki swallows. “me too.”

-ˏˋ⋆ present time ⋆ˊˎ-

and now, back in your bedroom, the silence left in heeseung’s absence is deafening.

your gaze flicks toward the window, rain still threading down the glass like tear tracks. your mind lingers on that rooftop — the stars, the safety, the version of you who still believed in soft things.

before all the hook-ups, parties, and one-sided confessions.

you pull the blanket tighter around your shoulders and whisper. either to riki or yourself, you don’t know.

“you said love should never hurt. i think heeseung missed that memo.”

and god, how you wish you could go back to that night — before the spiral, before the ache.

before the boy who made you feel like an afterthought.

before you let yourself fall over someone you thought you didn’t care about.

riki leaves after making sure you’re alright, mumbling something about dance practice.

and again, it’s just you. in the quiet.

then, almost without thinking, you rip a blank piece of paper out of your journal.

you don’t plan it. it’s just instinct — fingers gripping your pen, waiting for permission your heart hasn’t quite given. but then you start writing.

dear heeseung,

i hated you before i knew how badly i could want you. maybe that’s where it all went wrong. because at some point, i stopped seeing you as the boy who annoyed me and started seeing you as someone i wanted to understand. as someone i wanted to look at me and see me. and for a while, i thought maybe you did. i thought maybe the way you pulled me into your lap, the way you whispered near my ear, the way your hand rested on my waist — i thought maybe it meant something. i thought i was stupid for hating you. turns out i was just stupid for hoping. you said you could never love someone like me. and god, that broke something in me i didn’t know was still whole. because even when i told myself i hated you, there was always that small, traitorous part of me that wondered: what if he doesn’t hate me back? what if it’s more? but it wasn’t. and now i can’t unhear it. you probably didn’t even mean it — not in the way it came out. maybe it was fear, or pressure, or ego. but it doesn’t matter, does it? words don’t get erased just because we didn’t mean them. they echo. and yours… yours are still echoing inside me like a song i can’t shut off. i don’t think i’m mad at you anymore. i think i’m mad at myself. for letting you get close. for not guarding the parts of me i only let out in small doses. for thinking i was different to you. i wish you hadn’t said it. but mostly, i wish it hadn’t mattered so much to me that you did. – y/n

you take out an envelope, neatly fold the paper and stuff it inside, writing a neat ‘heeseung’ on the front of it.

some truths aren’t meant to be sent. some confessions are only meant for the rain to witness.

and tonight, that’s enough.

───

the second the door shuts behind him, the silence hits like a punch to the ribs.

heeseung stands there for a second too long, staring at the wood grain of your door like it might open again. like maybe you’ll come running after him. like maybe that small, broken smile you gave him wasn’t the end.

but it doesn’t open.

and it was the end.

he starts walking. he doesn’t even remember moving his feet, just that suddenly he’s outside, and the rain greets him like an old friend. cold, sharp, unforgiving. it soaks through his hoodie in seconds, but he doesn’t flinch.

he deserves it. every drop. every chill. every echo of your voice in his head.

“not quite forgiveness. not quite goodbye.”

god, what did he do?

how did he take someone who was literally sitting in his lap, trusting him with the fragile thread of something real — and turn that into this? this mess of silence and space and words he can’t take back?

“i could never love someone like her.”

he had said it so carelessly. so cruelly. trying to deflect the attention off himself in front of your friends, like a coward. like a boy who still thinks protecting his ego is worth more than protecting a heart.

especially your heart.

he wipes his face with the back of his hand, unsure if it’s tears or rain. it’s probably both.

he thinks back to your eyes right before he left. the way you looked at him like he was someone you used to know. like whatever thread was between you had finally snapped.

and the worst part?

he couldn’t even beg you to stay.

because he knows — he knows — he doesn’t deserve it.

he walks home in silence, the city around him buzzing and breathing like it doesn’t care at all about the wreckage inside his chest. his phone buzzes a few times in his pocket, probably jay or jungwon checking if he made it back safely.

but none of it matters.

because there’s only one person he wants to hear from.

and you’ve already said everything you needed to say. in the way you didn’t ask him to stay. in the way you didn’t cry. in the way you simply closed the door.

so when heeseung finally steps into his apartment, soaked to the bone, trembling from more than just the cold, he collapses on his bed, stares at the ceiling, and whispers:

“i didn’t mean it. i swear i didn’t mean it.”

but there’s no one left to listen.

not tonight.

───

heeseung isn’t the center of your world anymore.

not in the way he used to be.

in the weeks that follow, your friends become your anchor. riki never leaves your side. winter brings over matcha lattes and blankets. sunoo paints your nails while jake tells bad jokes. you laugh again. slowly, but surely.

you start writing more letters.

some are angry. some are soft. some are nothing more than wordless scratches of ink on paper.

but one night, you write a letter that feels different.

you don’t even realize what you’re saying until it’s already down:

i wanted you. for a long time. maybe even when i said i hated you. maybe that was the only way i knew how to say it without crumbling. i masked want with rage. affection with sarcasm. love with loathing. you made it easier to run. but i wanted to stay. god, i wanted to stay.

you fold that letter gently. tuck it into your drawer. it doesn’t matter if he reads it. not now.

because healing isn’t about him.

it’s about you.

and you’re getting there.

lately, the weekends have felt lighter. your apartment has become a familiar gathering place again, only now, it’s just the people who stayed. who showed up. who chose you. heeseung hasn’t come around in weeks, and no one really talks about it. not in a cruel way, just in the quiet, understanding way that friendships shift when someone slips out of the picture.

you used to dread saturday nights, used to flinch every time the group chat lit up with plans. used to wonder if he’d show up, if you’d have to spend the night pretending not to notice the weight of his silence, the way your laughter dulled around him. but somewhere along the way, those nights started to feel easier. not because you stopped missing him — but because you started remembering how to miss him without hurting yourself in the process.

your living room is alive with warmth and laughter. the scent of popcorn and mango smoothies drifts through the air. blankets are piled high on the couch, soft pillows strewn across the floor where riki is dramatically throwing himself down after losing yet another round of mario kart to sunghoon, who’s grinning like he just won the olympics.

“cheater,” riki groans, pointing an accusing finger without lifting his head.

“just admit i’m better,” sunghoon replies smugly, stretching his legs across the coffee table like he owns the place.

in the corner, winter and yuqi are dancing barefoot to a chaotic mix of early 2000s pop and indie throwbacks — somehow still synced up to choreography you’d all made up back in sophomore year. their laughter is contagious, unfiltered and bright, and it tugs a smile onto your face before you even realize it.

keeho is halfway through teaching jungwon and sunoo a tiktok dance in the kitchen doorway, voice loud and arms flailing with exaggerated energy. they’re laughing too hard to get the moves right, collapsing into each other every time they mess up. jake, unfazed by the chaos, is blending something suspiciously green in the kitchen, wearing a headband that reads “chef vibes only.”

you’re curled up on the loveseat, blanket wrapped around your shoulders, a half-finished smoothie in your hands. and for once, you’re not scanning the room for him. you’re not wondering what he’d say or how he’d look at you or if tonight would be the night he pulled you aside and finally said something real.

you’re just… here. and it’s enough.

someone throws a pillow at your head, probably riki, based on the cackling, and you lunge to retaliate, laughing as the pillow war erupts across the living room. it’s messy, loud, ridiculous. and it’s yours. this little world you’re rebuilding, one laugh, one night, one breath at a time.

there’s still a part of you that misses him. maybe there always will be. but tonight, that part is small. quiet.

outnumbered by joy.

meanwhile, heeseung is alone in his apartment.

the place is dim. quiet. it hasn’t felt like home in a long time. he's been staring at his phone for an hour now, hoping for a text that doesn’t come.

he thinks about the group chat. the silence from everyone. he thinks about the night he ruined everything. and how, somehow, he still wants to fix it.

he knows an apology isn’t enough. not this time.

he needs to show you, all of you, that he’s not the same guy who let his fear speak louder than his heart.

he just doesn’t know how yet.

but he will. he has to.

because he doesn’t just want forgiveness.

he wants to deserve it.

───

somewhere in the chaos, one of your unsent letters goes missing.

riki finds it by accident. tucked under a cushion, edges worn. he doesn't mean to read it, but your handwriting draws him in, and before he knows it, he's holding your heartbreak in his hands.

he doesn't say a word. just slips it into his pocket and walks away.

a day later, heeseung finds the letter folded on the seat of his car.

he doesn’t recognize the paper at first. but the second he sees your handwriting, his heart drops.

his hands shake as he unfolds it. the silence around him is so loud, he can hear his pulse in his ears.

and then he reads it.

every word. every line. every raw, aching truth you never meant for him to see.

i thought maybe the way you pulled me into your lap, the way you whispered near my ear, the way your hand rested on my waist — i thought maybe it meant something. turns out i was just stupid for hoping. you said you could never love someone like me. and god, that broke something in me i didn’t know was still whole.

heeseung sits there, completely still. letter trembling in his grip.

"fuck," he whispers. "fuck."

he shows up to the next group hangout like his life depends on it.

he doesn’t talk to anyone. not really. not until you walk in.

you freeze when you see him. part of you wants to turn around and leave.

but he doesn’t let you.

he stands. crosses the room.

"can we talk?" he asks, voice low, not demanding, but pleading.

you don’t say anything.

"please. just five minutes. if you still hate me after, i’ll leave you alone. forever."

there’s a long pause.

you nod.

he takes you outside, away from the noise, into the quiet night.

"i read it," he says.

you blink. "read what?"

he reaches into his jacket and pulls out the letter. your letter.

your stomach drops.

"i wasn’t supposed to see it, i know. but... i’m glad i did."

"heeseung—"

"no. let me say this. please."

his eyes are desperate. glassy. his words shaky.

"i lied. that night. i said that because i was scared. because i felt too much, too fast, and didn’t know what to do with it. i thought if i pushed you away, i could kill whatever it was before it killed me."

he takes a step closer.

"but you weren’t just someone i hated. not really. you were someone i couldn’t stop thinking about. you were the highlight of every party, every night, every moment. i was an idiot. but i never stopped wanting you."

your throat is tight.

"you broke me," you whisper.

he nods.

"i know. and i’ll spend every second proving to you that i’m sorry. not with words — with time. with actions. with everything you’ll let me give."

there’s silence.

then you take a breath.

"you’ve got a lot to prove, lee heeseung."

he gives the smallest, hopeful smile.

"then let me start now."

and he does.

not with fireworks. not with promises he can’t keep. but with the small things. the consistent things.

the next morning, there’s a text from him. simple.

“did you sleep okay?”

you stare at it for a while before replying.

“yeah. you?”

“not really. kept thinking about you.”

you don’t answer that. but your heart stirs anyway.

a few days later, he’s waiting outside your class with a drink in his hand, the one he used to make fun of you for ordering (“that’s basically sugar and foam, y/n”), but now buys without hesitation. he doesn’t try to walk you home. doesn’t push. just hands you the drink, offers a soft “you looked tired,” and walks away before you can respond.

he lets you come to him.

at the next hangout, he doesn’t hover. doesn’t sulk. he helps jake in the kitchen, jokes with jungwon, lets the others tease him without biting back. when you walk in, his eyes find you — but he doesn’t pull you aside. just offers a quiet, careful smile. like he’s waiting. like he’s learning how to stay.

one night, you’re struggling with your laundry, balancing way too many bags and a basket of unfolded clothes, and he appears without a word, grabbing half the load from your arms. you glare at him, but you don’t tell him to stop.

he walks with you to the laundry room, helps you separate colors, folds your towels when you’re too tired to finish. “i owe you way more than this,” he says softly. you don’t look at him. “yeah,” you murmur. “you do.”

he doesn’t reply. just keeps folding.

you start to notice it more after that. the way he lingers behind after group dinners to help clean. the way he listens, really listens, when you talk, even if it’s just about the books you’re reading or the music you’ve been into lately. the way he starts learning your rhythms again, not to manipulate them, but to respect them.

one night, you find a note slipped into your bag.

“this isn’t about getting you back. it’s about being someone who deserves to stand beside you. i don’t expect anything from you. just… thanks for letting me try.”

you don’t know what to do with that. but you keep the note anyway.

and maybe the biggest moment doesn’t feel big at all. it’s late. you’re sitting on the floor of your apartment, overwhelmed with everything—assignments, memories, feelings you’ve tried to ignore—and he shows up.

he doesn’t say anything. just sits beside you. close, but not too close. his shoulder brushes yours. your hand trembles. and without looking at you, he says, “you don’t have to talk. just let me sit here.”

and you do.

because he’s not trying to fix you. he’s just showing up. and maybe that’s what love looks like now.

quiet. patient. real.

you don’t forgive him all at once.

but some nights, it’s harder to pretend you don’t want to.

like the night it rains, and you forget your umbrella. you’re standing under the campus archway, clutching your books to your chest, half-considering just running for it, when a quiet voice says, “hey.”

you turn. heeseung’s holding out his umbrella, expression unreadable, hair already wet from the walk over.

“you’ll get soaked,” you mumble, surprised. “i don’t mind,” he says. “but you hate the rain.”

you want to tell him to leave. want to remind him that knowing those things doesn’t mean he’s forgiven.

but instead, you step under the umbrella. shoulder to shoulder. hearts too close. you don’t say a word the whole walk home. but you remember how he always matched his pace to yours. he still does.

───

there’s another time. movie night.

everyone’s over again, sprawled across the living room. you end up between yuqi and jungwon on the couch, but at some point, someone moves, and when you shift, you realize you’re next to him. again.

the movie plays. people whisper and pass snacks and argue over the plot twist. but all you feel is the space between your knee and his. the ghost of warmth where your arms nearly brush.

you don’t move away. neither does he.

and at one point, you laugh at a stupid scene. without thinking, you glance at him, wanting to see if he found it funny too. he’s already looking at you. and for a second, everything stills.

you look away first. but your heart doesn't stop racing for a long, long time.

───

the third moment is softest of all.

it’s late. everyone’s left. you’re cleaning up alone, stacking plates in the kitchen.

you don’t hear him come back until he’s beside you, rolling up his sleeves.

“thought i’d help,” he says gently. you nod. don’t speak.

you’re both quiet for a while, working in sync. something about it feels… familiar. domestic. like home.

then, as you’re drying the last cup, you glance over. he’s watching you, and there’s something in his eyes. something tender. careful. full of things he hasn’t said yet.

“i miss you,” he says softly.

your breath catches.

you set the cup down.

“heeseung–”

“i’m not asking for anything,” he interrupts, voice thick. “just… i miss you. and i wanted you to know.”

you swallow hard. there’s so much you could say. but instead, you whisper, “i know.”

he nods once. and then he leaves. because he meant it — he wasn’t asking for anything. but that’s the moment you know: you don’t hate him anymore. you never did.

───

it happens a week later.

a rooftop. stars overhead. winter’s birthday, most of your friends are tipsy on alcohol, sugar and too many karaoke songs. you haven’t had a drop of alcohol, wanting to truly feel everything.

heeseung finds you leaning against the railing, eyes on the sky.

“hey,” he says. you nod and let him stand beside you.

the silence isn’t awkward anymore. it’s soft. steady.

“can i ask you something?” he says, barely audible.

you hum.

“do you still feel it?” he asks. “whatever it was… whatever we had.”

you don’t answer for a long time.

and then, quietly… “i never really stopped.”

he turns. slowly.

your eyes meet. and in them is every apology he’s ever whispered with his actions. every moment he gave you space. every time he showed up when he didn’t have to.

you reach for him first.

your hand brushes his. his fingers curl around yours like a prayer.

and then, finally, he kisses you.

soft. aching. full of every unspoken word, every almost, every could’ve been. this isn’t the kind of kiss that demands anything. it’s a promise. a beginning.

you pull back first, just enough to whisper, “i don’t wanna do this while you’re intoxicated, i don’t want you to regret it.”

he stares at you before mumbling into your lips.

“y/n, i haven’t had a drink, but it feels like i’m drunk when i kiss you.”

your heart stops and everything fades into the background. “don’t break me again.” you plead, face inches away from his.

he presses his forehead to yours.

“never again,” he breathes.

and this time, you believe him.

as he reconnects your lips, his hands tremble slightly where they find purchase on your waist. the night air is cool, but your skin is burning—flushed, alive, and aching in a way you haven’t let yourself feel in so long.

he pulls back just enough to look at you. his eyes flick between yours and your lips, like he’s still not sure this is real.

“we don’t have to,” he murmurs, voice hoarse. “just say the word.”

but you don’t want him to stop. not tonight. not after everything.

so you slide your fingers into the collar of his jacket, tug him closer until your lips brush his again.

“take me home, heeseung.”

and he does.

his apartment is quiet when you get inside, the chaos of the earlier party gone, the night still humming with something electric. you barely have time to kick your shoes off before his mouth finds yours again. hungrier now, more desperate. like all the restraint he’s shown is unraveling, thread by thread.

his hands are everywhere — your hips, your waist, your jaw. like he’s relearning you. memorizing the weight of you against him.

you tug his jacket off, fingers fumbling with the zipper, and he lets out a low, breathless laugh against your neck.

“still impatient,” he teases.

“still hot when you shut up,” you shoot back, and he groans.

you barely make it to the couch.

he sits first, pulling you into his lap like it’s instinct, like he’s needed this for months. your knees straddle him, bodies pressed chest to chest, your hands tangled in his hair as he kisses you like he’s starving for it.

he tilts his head, deepens the kiss, and it’s filthy. slow. wet. your hips roll against his without thinking, and the noise he makes, low and guttural, goes straight to your core.

“fuck,” he groans. forehead against your collarbone. “you’re gonna kill me.”

you arch into him, tug his shirt over his head, and he follows suit, fingers slipping under the hem of yours, eyes flicking up for permission. you nod, and he peels it off slowly, reverently, like unwrapping something precious.

his hands trail over your skin like he’s trying to remember what it feels like to deserve you.

and then his mouth is on your neck, your shoulder, trailing down until you’re gasping his name, your back arching as he presses kisses across your collarbones.

“you’re so beautiful,” he whispers, like it hurts.

as you reach for his belt wanting to make him feel good, he puts his hand over yours. “there’s something i need to tell you.. before we take anything further.” he says like he doesn’t even want you to know.

“what is it, hee?”

god. that nickname.

it’s what all his close friends call him, however when you say it. he wants to lay the world at your feet.

“i’m.. uh– a vir-virgin…” he mumbles. you would have missed it had you not been paying close attention.

you laugh.

heeseung leans back into the couch, hoping, praying, wishing it to swallow him whole.

as you observe heeseung, you realize he must be serious. “you’re a virgin? but you– you always used to talk about your hook-ups and how every week it was like you had someone new hanging off your arm??? what do you mean you’re a virgin?”

he whimpers. he fucking whimpers. “i’m not proud of it, okay? i always came really close to hooking up with girls but i um. i couldn’t you know.. get it… up.”

you sit there quietly, giving him time to compose himself and continue.

“everytime i tried to lose my virginity, i couldn’t get hard unless i thought she was you,” he speaks, not gaining enough courage to look you in the eyes.

you stare at heeseung for a moment, trying to process what he just said. the weight of it settles between you like a delicate secret, and suddenly the playful teasing tone you’d had before feels completely inappropriate.

you can see it in his doe eyes — how embarrassed he is, how much he wants to crawl out of his own skin. the corners of his lips are tugged in a tight line, as if holding in every emotion that threatens to spill out. but you can’t help the smile that creeps onto your face. it’s soft, gentle, but laced with a teasing warmth.

“you’re a virgin?” you ask, letting the words linger a little longer than they should, pretending to be surprised as if he hadn’t just told you, twice.

heeseung’s face reddens, and you see him shrink further into the couch. you could almost feel his desire to hide, to escape. but you don’t let him. instead, you move closer, shifting between his legs, and place your hand on his thigh. a gentle, reassuring pressure.

“god, heeseung,” you tease softly, your lips curling into a smile that isn’t cruel, but playful. “how could you keep that from me? you’ve been all… big talk and ‘i get all the girls,’ and here you are, this nervous little thing, blushing at the thought of being with me?”

his eyes flicker with uncertainty, but you lean in just enough to press your lips to his ear. you feel him tense under the touch, and the subtle shiver runs through his body, telling you everything you need to know. he’s not as confident as he makes it seem.

“you should’ve told me sooner, you know,” you whisper, your voice low, just enough to make his breath hitch. “i would’ve been patient. we could’ve taken it slow.”

heeseung groans softly, his hands gripping the fabric of the couch like he’s holding onto some semblance of control. you smile knowingly, watching the struggle on his face. but it’s not discomfort — it’s desire. you can feel it in the way his eyes refuse to leave yours, in the way his body reacts to the gentleness in your touch.

“i… i don’t want you to think less of me,” he mutters, barely audible, but you catch it anyway. “it’s just… with you, it’s always felt different.”

you gently trace your fingers up his chest, watching as his breath quickens. you’re giving him space to breathe, to process, and then you lean in, brushing your lips against his in a soft, teasing kiss.

“stop worrying about that,” you say quietly, your lips just barely touching his. “i don’t think less of you. if anything, you’re hotter right now than ever before.”

the vulnerability in his eyes shifts. he’s still nervous, but the weight is lifting. and for the first time in a while, you see him start to believe that he doesn’t need to hide anything from you.

then, you shift your focus, teasing him once more with a playful grin. “but you know, heeseung… i could help you with that. we could take this slow, maybe help you get comfortable with what it feels like to be with me. you trust me, don’t you?”

he nods, slowly, not trusting his voice. he’s ready. maybe more than he thought.

and you take that as your cue. you kiss him again, deeper this time, letting the heat between you grow. his body responds to you almost immediately. hands shifting from nervous to eager, pulling you closer as his mouth moves hungrily against yours.

“let me take care of you,” you murmur, your hands trailing down to his belt. this time, you don’t hesitate. you undo it slowly, giving him time to react, but he doesn’t stop you. instead, he leans back into the couch, chest rising and falling with each shallow breath.

heeseung’s eyes search yours one more time, a silent question in them. you nod gently, giving him permission to be vulnerable, to trust you fully.

and when your hands pull his pants down, you can feel the heat of him, see the evidence of his desire. you take your time, enjoying the way he reacts to each touch, savoring the way he trembles under your hands.

you start by rubbing over his bulge when your eyes widen.

he just stares back at you, not blinking, but incredibly nervous. “is– is something wrong?” he stutters out.

“wrong? no, heeseung. you’re huge.”

he blushes and hides his face in his hands. his veiny hands. you’ll definitely need to put those to use later.

you softly drag his hands away from his face and tell him to never hide from you. you think he’s beautiful like this.

after he calms down, you look back into his eyes that resemble a deer, and he nods. signaling you to continue.

you finally trail your eyes down to his raging hard on, you can almost see it pulse.

his breath quickens the longer you take to begin touching him.

you start by teasing his swollen tip, arousal evident in the stain on his gray boxers. he sighs heavily, tipping his head back.

as you rub your hand down to his base, you get a feel for how thick he truly is.

he’s hard. aching. even at the slightest touch, his eyebrows furrow and he holds back soft groans.

you rip your hand off his clothed bulge. “if you want me to continue, you need to let me hear you, baby.”

that was his breaking point, he quickly nods his head yes looking at you with pleading eyes, “c—can you please touch me? it hurts.”

not wanting to tease him any longer, you rip his boxers off his thighs and his throbbing length slaps against his lower abdomen reaching just above his belly button. precum smears on his abs and you get the urge to lick it off.

so you do.

you gently move his dick away from his toned stomach, swiping your wet muscle along his abs, sucking to leave light marks.

the noises he makes are downright pornographic, and you think you’ll never be able to hear them enough.

moving your attention back to the hardness in your grasp, you begin to lick up his shaft, tracing each vein with the tip of your tongue. his head is still tipped back, frustrating you a bit because you want his attention on you.

so… in one swift motion, you take him down your throat until his tip hits the back. his head shoots up and he moans. loud.

heeseung is in heaven. the feeling of your throat constricting around his cock, he never wants you to pull off of him. he gently pulls your hair into a ponytail, hands shaking when you start moving.

his apartment is filled with filthy noises: wet, loud, and obscene.

he can hear and feel your gag reflexes kicking in but you don’t budge. you continue to move up and down, not wanting to stop until he cums.

his tipping point was you somehow taking him even further down your throat, nose brushing his pelvis. he thought you were going to take a break for air but you didn't.

you stay.

swallowing around him.

the pressure in your jaw is almost unbearable but when you feel his thighs shaking, you know he’s close. and you need to ruin him.

hollowing your cheeks, you swirl your tongue around his engorged tip, hands coming up to play with his heavy balls. he can’t hold back anymore. the sensation of you taking his whole cock down your tiny throat and the stimulation of his balls in your hands. he groans.

desperate. low. deep

and spills down your throat. warm, wet, and sticky ropes, pour out of his tip. taking up all the space you had left, some spilling out from the corners of your mouth.

you swallow all that you can, then pull off from his dick.

heavy breathing is the only thing that can be heard. heeseung threw an arm over his eyes, chest heaving, trying to regain control of his senses.

meanwhile, you haven’t stopped clenching your thighs together.

you didn’t even notice you were staring until he clears his throat. he just looks so gorgeous all fucked out.

“wow. did you– swallow.. it?” he asks through pants.

you answer him like it was the most natural thing in the world, “yeah, because it was you”

he moans, again. and that’s when you notice he’s still hard, still aching.

as you move to straddle his lap, he grabs your thighs and wraps your legs around his waist. “not here, i want our first time to be special” he says softly, with a kiss to your temple.

he carries you to his bedroom on wobbly legs and gently lays you down on his bed, hovering on top of you. he plants wet kisses all over your face, trailing down to your neck, collarbones, until he reaches your covered chest.

looking at you with big, lust filled eyes, he waits for your green light. you nod and he fumbles with your bra clasp, eventually tearing the fabric away.

“you’re stunning,” he says completely awestruck by your half-naked form.

as he continues staring, he licks his lips, slowly lowering his head wrapping his soft lips around one of your perky buds.

you instinctively arch into his touch, one of his hands wrapping around your waist as his other hand gently kneads your other boob. soft gasps and whines slip from your lips as you try to grind up in search of any friction where you need it most.

he senses your desperate pleas and starts moving his body to slot between your legs, face in front of your clothed core. you wiggle your hips trying to convince him to speed up and touch you where you need it the most.

“can i…?” he practically begs, “yeah” you sigh as you relax into his plush sheets. he drags your sweats down your soft legs planting kisses along the inside of your thighs, all the way down to your calves. he makes his way to your panty clad pussy, pressing a soft kiss to your bundle of nerves aching for him.

you don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on before.

he looks so good between your thighs, you want this image ingrained into your brain forever.

he brings his thumb up to press on the wet spot that’s formed on your panties, groaning, “fuck, you’re so wet.”

“all for you.”

he replays those words in his head and his patience snaps. tearing your underwear in half, he wastes no time. tongue lapping and the wetness between your legs, like he’s been deprived of any liquid all his life.

you’ve never met someone this desperate to eat you out. or anyone for that matter.

he mumbles against your core, “guide me, please, wan’ you t’feel good, mmh.”

your hands take place in his silky soft roots, gently tugging on the strands.

through whimpers, you tell him to focus on your clit, and surprisingly (for a virgin), he finds it fairly quickly.

he briefly sucks on the nub, flicking it with his tongue to soothe it. “fuck, hee” you moan out into the space of his bedroom.

he groans against your pussy, carefully bringing up his fingers so he can push his tongue into your awaiting hole. the moment he starts fucking you with his tongue, you arch your back and grind into his face, needing more.

he heard his friends talking about “prep” and “stretching girls out,” so he wonders if you need to be stretched out to take him. you said he was huge, did you mean it? he has no idea, he’s a pathetic virgin who has only shoved his dick into his right hand. not even a pocket pussy or fleshlight.

to your dismay, he pulls away for a brief second asking if he should use his fingers. “please, i need you to stretch me out, i can’t– take you without prep,” you rush out feeling your high not far away.

“shit, okay baby,” he mutters back before bringing his middle finger up to spread your juices around.

your hips jerk up when he focuses on your clit, surprised by the stimulation.

slowly, he pushes his finger in, getting used to the warm sensation of your walls.

you clench around his thick digit, feeling fuller than when you finger yourself. as he pumps it in and out, you tell him to add another one and he does.

moaning in relief, you arch into his touch as his tongue finds its way back to your sensitive clit.

between him lapping like a dog and the feeling of two of his fingers pumping in and out of your tight hole, you feel a familiar band in your stomach building up.

your moans increase and heeseung feels dizzy, taking in all that you give.

he curves his fingers all while sucking on your bundle of nerves, causing you to tip over the edge and that band in your stomach to snap.

you come crashing down, chanting his name like a mantra as heeseung helps you ride out your high.

as you lift your head and meet his gaze, he looks more fucked out than you do. hooded eyes, tongue lolled out of his mouth, gaze consumed with lust. you pull him by the collar of his shirt until your lips collide in a mess of tongues and teeth.

your makeout session unfortunately doesn’t last long as heeseung starts whining into your lips.

that’s when you realize his cock found your bent knee, not so subtly grinding against it, trying to relieve some of the ache.

“feeling needy, are we?” you tease, earning a playful roll of the eyes from heeseung.

pulling back, you drink in his bare torso– he’s always been muscular as he was very popular with the ladies (until he got into bed with them).

dragging your hand up his chiseled abs, his stomach tenses and his dick twitches.

you found his second biggest weakness, besides you. his abs.

deciding to end the teasing there, since you’re also becoming increasingly impatient, you flip him over so you land on top of him with a quiet, “oof.”

as you settle your bare core on his rock solid cock, you start grinding, placing your hands on his chest for support.

he can’t hold back the guttural groans spilling from his mouth. not believing you’re really on top of him right now. this isn’t just one of his wet dreams.

he thought this couldn’t get any better, but when he struggles to get out a weak ask for a condom, you just respond with “no, i’m– on the pill. need to feel you. all of you.”

and to that, he moans, not believing his ears.

it’s his first time. and he’s about to have sex with YOU. raw. he thinks he’s dreaming. there’s no way you’re real.

you gently angle his dick towards your awaiting hole, sinking down until his fat tip is inside you.

instantly, you both sigh in relief, starting to feel the pressure ease up.

if you feel a stretch at his tip entering you, you don’t know how you’re supposed to fit all of him inside you. he’s the biggest you’ve seen and he doesn’t even know it.

your attention is drawn back to the man consuming your brain when he whines. “m-more, please.” he’s becoming needier the longer you stay at just his tip but you don’t know how to tell him you’ve never taken a size like him before.

“hee-heeseung i need a sec, you’re– fuck. so thick,” you say between moans.

his grip on your hips tightens, a silent way of telling you to take your time.

when you finally deem yourself ready, you sink lower, wanting to speed it up, bracing the stretch to come.

you feel him pulsing inside you and that’s all you need to sink all the way down, him bottoming out inside you.

it’s his first time feeling anything other than his hand wrapped around him, and he whimpers, loud. it’s overstimulating in the best way possible and before he knows it you move up to his tip and bounce back down. his dick twitches and you feel it. every vein, every pulse, every movement, even his heavy breathing.

heeseung, not in control of his movements, bucks his hips up, making another non-existent inch fit inside your stretched out core.

you moan soft and loud, eyes rolling back, as the pain turned into pleasure. bouncing faster on his girthy cock, you uncontrollably clench around him, causing heeseung’s grip to tighten. you know it’ll bruise tomorrow, but at the moment, he feels too good for you to care.

the room smells of sex, and the only sounds that can be heard are skin clapping and your shared noises.

heeseung must notice your legs becoming tired because before you know it, you’re flat on your back with heeseung on top of you, cock never slipping out from your pussy.

his large hands grab each of your thighs, pressing them to your chest.

his pace is slow at first, testing the waters, getting a feel for a rhythm.

as his hands stay pressed to your thighs, he slowly drags out and pushes all of his dick inside you.

you feel him deeper in this position, a bulge forming in your lower belly.

when he notices, his eyes stay glued there.

you wonder what he’s looking at but the moment you look down, you’re met with his hand pressing slightly on the bulge causing the loudest moan to leave your lips.

he signals you to hold your thighs as one of his hands holds himself up and the other focuses on how he can feel his dick inside your guts with every thrust.

his pace suddenly quickens when you clench hard around him, making his hips stutter briefly.

endless praises leave his pretty lips, telling you how good you feel, how hot you look laid underneath him, taking whatever he gives you.

feeling a familiar, yet new sensation building rapidly, you try to warn him that you’re close but somehow, he already knows. “i know baby, let go whenever you want.” he mutters back, feeling just as close to his high.

“fuck– where do you want it?” he rushes out, not wanting to cum inside you if that isn’t what you want.

but apparently, all the gods are smiling down on him as you release your thighs from the grip you had on them and wrap your legs around his waist. “inside,” you moan.

and at that, he cums. hard. ropes of his hot, gooey, cum spill inside you. tipping you over the edge.

with a loud groan, clear liquid comes rushing out from you, spraying all over his sheets and lower abdomen. soaking his dick.

heeseung moans. again. raw and unfiltered at the fact that you just squirted all over him (he’s seen enough porn and heard too many stories from your shared friend group to know what squirting is).

as you come down from your high, heeseung is somehow still cumming. it spills out of you, creating an even stickier mess on his bed. but he doesn’t care.

not when you’re beneath him, chest rising rapidly, trying to catch your breath.

heeseung’s cock is still lodged inside you, holding half of his cum inside you, not wanting it to go to waste.

as he collapses on top of you, he places a soft kiss on your forehead, holding your trembling body close to his.

you were the first to speak, “i didn’t even know i could do that,” talking about how you squirted all over him. “guess we both had firsts today,” he softly chuckles.

his breath is warm against your skin, his arm tightening just a little around your waist as if anchoring himself in the moment. you don’t respond right away, too caught up in the quiet thrum of your heartbeat, the lingering warmth between you, the way his fingers begin tracing gentle, absent-minded shapes against your spine.

“i didn’t expect it to be like this,” you murmur, your voice almost lost in the hush of the room.

“like what?” he asks, voice low, like he’s afraid to shatter the calm.

you shift slightly to face him, resting your head more comfortably on his chest. “soft. safe.”

Hheeseung lets out a breath that sounds like relief and something deeper, something reverent. “yeah,” he whispers. “me neither.”

for a while, neither of you say anything. he pulls the blanket higher over both of you, his other hand brushing your hair back with such tenderness that it makes your eyes sting. he presses a kiss to your forehead, lingering like he means it.

“you okay?” he asks, voice still rough from earlier, but softer now, like the edge of him has been smoothed by your touch.

you nod, then glance up at him. “are you?”

heeseung meets your gaze, and something in his expression shifts. vulnerability bleeding through the cracks he used to hide behind. “i am now.”

your heart squeezes.

he licks his lips, nervous. “i’ve been so stupid with you. all this time, i kept pushing and pulling, thinking maybe if i kept it messy, it’d be easier to walk away if i had to.” he pauses, his voice thinning. “but tonight just… made me realize i don’t want to walk away.”

your breath catches. “heeseung…”

“i don’t want this to be a one time thing,” he says, eyes searching yours. “not the sex, not the closeness. i want you. the fights, the tension, the way you drive me crazy and still somehow make me want to be better just by being around you. i’m so in love with you, it hurts.”

your lips part in surprise, and he laughs quietly, self-deprecating and shy. “too much?”

instead of answering, you lean up and kiss him, slow, deep, and full of all the things you couldn’t say until now. when you pull back, you rest your forehead against his, smiling as his thumb brushes over your cheek.

“i’m in love with you too, idiot.”

he grins, wide and a little teary-eyed, and pulls you closer like he’s never letting go.

and you know he won’t have to.

pls reblog & leave feedback <3 hope you enjoyed the read ◡̈

[ @jaeyuniversal ] prod. 250417

3K notes · View notes

ham1lton · 7 months ago

Text

X MARKS THE SPOT!

pairings: retired f1 drivers x retired f1 legend!yn.

faceclaim: jessica alba.

summary: being the first-ever female f1 world champion was hard enough. writing a tell-all about it, including all the details of your beef with that former driver? let’s just say the track wasn’t the only place things got heated.

warnings: mentions of misogyny. like a lot. so if that is something that makes you uncomfortable, please don’t read!! your comfort comes first <3

author’s note: ignore timeline issues!! this was all inspired by that one anon who said something about yn writing a tell-all. if you liked this, maybe send me an ask? :D

now part of a trilogy!

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liked by vogue, jimmyfallon and 2,837,018 others

yourinstagram: it was so fun talking to jimmyfallon about writing my memoir ‘lucky girl syndrome’! i talked about getting the call that i was being signed, getting name dropped in a kdot song (thank you for making me cool to my nephews!) and the legacy i want to leave behind. check it out!!!

view all 298,727 comments

user1: MOTHERRR

user2: omg i’ve already pre-ordered my copy!!

-> user3: i’ve reserved it at my local library 🫡

user4: i hope she spills all the tea. i wanna know exactly who the misogynist motherfuckers are.

user5: she’s the goat female driver idc!! first female championship winner!!

-> user9: during her time in mclaren, jenson was carrying her. but yeah let’s talk about that one rigged championship 😂

user6: she still looks so hot. my first celeb crush.

-> user7: i had pictures of her all over my wall. i think my mom still has them up 😓

user8: worst driver of all time. only there because she looked good in the race suit.

-> user11: if she wasn’t hot, no one would care about her driving.

user10: this was always going to happen when you allowed women into f1. ruined the sport. she was nothing but a distraction on the grid.

-> user12: she was incredible. she clawed her way to a championship when everyone doubted her. she proved that women can do anything. the only distraction are people like you.

user13: please please please tell me she says that her and jenson were a thing. i always used to ship them so bad. the photoshoot for british vogue was imprinted on my thirteen year old brain.

-> user14: ANOTHER JENSONYN SHIPPER!!! baitclaren was my fav mclaren era. y’all can have your twinkclaren!!

-> user15: remember when jenson shut down a misogynistic reporter who tried to imply that yn wasn’t a good driver?? that was his girl frfr!!

user16: i’m so proud of u yn. you’ve been through so much and i’m excited to support you.

*liked by yourinstagram.*

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“SHE’S NOT THAT FAST — SHE JUST GETS LUCKY SOMETIMES. THAT’S ALL IT IS. RIGHT CAR — RIGHT TIME. LUCKY GIRL SYNDROME.” — a senior mclaren engineer.

dedicated to everyone who ever rooted for me. thank you.

────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

EXCERPT FROM LUCKY GIRL SYNDROME.

by yn yln.

when i signed with mclaren in 2013, i thought i was living my dream.

i was the only female driver on the grid, paired with jenson button—a world champion, a household name, and, to some, a certified heartthrob. they already loved calling him “promiscuous” in the press, and suddenly there i was: the pretty young woman who happened to drive fast. to them, we weren’t drivers—we were a brand. two good-looking people in shiny cars. and that label stuck.

from the start, i wasn’t taken seriously. i’d show up to meetings and realize they’d given me the wrong time—jenson would already be there, halfway through strategising with the team. he always looked uncomfortable when i walked in late, knowing i wasn’t told the same things he was.

“you’re here now,” he’d say, smiling politely, trying to ease the tension. i liked him. he wasn’t the problem. he was respectful, and if anyone made an offhand comment about me, he’d interject with a joke to cut through the awkwardness. but even his kindness couldn’t fix what was fundamentally wrong.

my first podium was a moment i’d worked my entire life for. it was a race where i drove faster than jenson, faster than most of the grid. but the photo they posted of me on the team’s social media wasn’t of me crossing the finish line, or holding my trophy.

it was me in the garage, leaning over the car, my race suit unzipped halfway down. the caption didn’t even mention the podium. it was just… my body. i couldn’t stomach looking through the comments.

i’ll never forget calling my dad that night. he was furious. he asked me why i didn’t make a fuss. why i didn’t storm into the team’s office and demand better treatment. but what he didn’t understand was that it wasn’t that simple. you’re the only woman in a room full of men, and they’re already waiting for you to slip up. waiting for you to show too much emotion, to prove them right when they think women are too “dramatic” to handle the job.

so i kept my head down. i smiled at the cameras, laughed at the jokes, and drove my ass off every weekend. and every time i was faster than jenson, every time i outqualified him or finished ahead, they’d say, “she got lucky.” when he beat me, they’d say, “see? this is why she doesn’t belong here.” it was a game i couldn’t win.

being the first woman on the grid wasn’t just about being fast. it was about being everything they didn’t expect me to be: calm, collected, agreeable. i couldn’t afford to push back because i knew they’d use it against me. so i swallowed it all, every little slight, every dismissive comment, every missed opportunity. i thought if i just kept my head down and drove, eventually, i’d earn their respect.

but now, looking back, i realize… they were never going to respect me. not really. not as a driver. they respected what i did for their brand, for their image. they respected how well i played the part. but as a person, as an athlete? i was just another pretty face to them. nothing more. and that’s what hurt the most.

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r/books

Discussion Thread:

“Lucky Girl Syndrome” by YN YLN: Thoughts, Reactions, and the Drama It’s Stirred Up.

──────────────────────

u/checkeredpast: just finished lucky girl syndrome, and WOW. she did not hold back. calling out mclaren for the way they treated her, the “wrong meeting times” sabotage, and the completely inappropriate podium photo… i can’t believe this stuff actually happened.

u/fastlaneandfurious: the part where she talks about the team using her as a “walking brand strategy” instead of a driver broke my heart. like, they wanted her to be the face of the team but refused to actually treat her like a serious athlete.

u/f1fanfiction: let’s talk about the fact that she outsold literally every sports memoir in history. 2 million copies sold in the first week. yn doesn’t just break records on the track, apparently.

u/nosteeringallowed: her calling out the media for labeling her as “lucky” after she beat half the grid is ICONIC. “they didn’t call my male teammates lucky—they called them skilled.” like, yes queen, drag them.

u/ynsthegoat: what got me was the chapter about the infamous team dinner where they wouldn’t even let her speak during strategy talk. then she went out and out-qualified jenson the next day.

u/overqualifiedandundervalued: “they said i was lucky, but luck doesn’t drive faster laps or win races. luck didn’t make me the first woman to win a championship—it was skill, it was hard work, and it was me.” CHILLS. absolute chills.

u/gridgossip: is no one going to talk about the tea she spilled on that one driver? the “polite but condescending” comments she got from him while he constantly undermined her. we KNOW it’s about seb.

u/wheresthefinishline: @ u/gridgossip no no no, it’s def about fernando. she’s been shady about him for years, and the way she described the “overly competitive teammate who couldn’t handle being outpaced by a woman” fits him perfectly.

u/holygrailpodium: the inappropriate photo after her first podium makes me so mad every time. she’s standing there in tears, holding the trophy, and they choose to post a picture of her leaning over the car with her suit half-open?? disgusting.

u/gaslitandgridlocked: her dad being her biggest defender was such a beautiful part of the book, though. “why do you stay quiet when you’re the fastest in the room?” hit me right in the heart.

u/podiumqueen: not me crying over how she kept driving through all of this, knowing they didn’t want her there. like, the strength it must’ve taken to win races when her own team wasn’t even rooting for her.

u/championshipenergy: the way she calls out how different her career would’ve been if she were a man was SO POWERFUL. “they didn’t need me to be fast, they needed me to be pretty. they got both, and they still weren’t satisfied.”

u/mimosasontherace: i can’t stop thinking about the last chapter where she talks about winning her first championship and how no one in her team even hugged her when the cameras switched off. like, they couldn’t even fake happiness for her.

u/driversanddivas: this book isn’t just a memoir; it’s a reckoning. yn exposed everyone who doubted her and proved that no matter what they threw at her, she came out on top. lucky girl syndrome my ass—she EARNED that title.

u/lightsoutandread: imagine being on the grid right now, knowing you were one of the people she called out. the absolute awkwardness.

u/trophiesandtrauma: if you’re on the fence about reading this, DO IT. it’s not just about racing—it’s about breaking barriers, sexism, and resilience. honestly, it deserves all the success it’s getting.

u/checkeredpast: she’s already announced a limited series deal with a streaming platform. you KNOW it’s going to be messy when they dramatize the “wrong meeting times” scene.

u/bookishracer: “lucky girl syndrome” is officially my book of the year. yn didn’t just tell her story; she made sure no one could ever erase it again.

────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

liked by f1stan, ynstan and 1,837,928 others.

ham1ltonshaderoom: f1 legend and now best selling author, yn yln, took to harper’s bazaar to discuss writing and her career. however, her memoir went viral for more than its record breaking sales. yln mentioned that there was a certain driver that would be her biggest fan in public and then undermine her in public. it has been dubbed ‘x marks the spot’, with the hashtag gaining major traction on social media. what do you think ham1ltons? and who do you think the supposed driver could be?

──────────────────────

‘there was one driver who always seemed to go out of his way to remind me i didn’t belong. he wasn’t on my team, but his presence always lingered—sharp, dismissive, condescending. let’s call him x. in interviews, he’d say all the right things, calling me a “trailblazer” and claiming he respected what i brought to the sport. but in the paddock, it was another story. during press conferences, he’d interrupt me, throwing in some smug joke that made everyone laugh but left me feeling small. once, during a rain delay, he walked past my garage and casually remarked to my engineer, loud enough for me to hear, “well, at least she’ll look good sliding off the track.” and when i won my first race, beating him in the process, he didn’t say a word. no handshake, no congratulations—just a quick glance and he was gone. i’ll never know why he went out of his way to belittle me, but in the end, i didn’t care. that win wasn’t for him. it was for me.’

──────────────────────

view all 23,727 comments

user1: it’s definitely fernando. they’ve never liked each other, and he’s always been salty when anyone’s faster than him.

-> user2: nah, it can’t be fernando. he’s competitive, but he’s never outright disrespectful. i’m thinking nico.

-> user1: girl that’s the point 😭 x was never openly disrespectful.

user3: okay but what about lewis? we KNOW their relationship wasn’t always great. remember how tense they were in interviews back then?

-> user4: no way it’s lewis. he’s literally said she’s one of the most talented drivers he’s raced against.

-> user5: lewis can say nice things now, but what if he wasn’t like that back then? she didn’t say the guy stayed disrespectful. she also said x was nice in public, who knew what he was saying in private.

user6: everyone’s ignoring seb, but she’s shaded him before. what if it’s him?

-> user7: yn has ALWAYS defended seb. if anything, he was one of the few drivers who actually supported her. it’s not him.

user8: it has to be fernando. the whole paragraph is giving fernando energy, and you know it.

-> user9: nah, i still think it’s nico. remember when he threw shade at her in a press conference after she outqualified him?

user10: you’re all wrong. it’s michael. she’s talked about how intimidating he was to race against, and she never got along with him.

-> user11: yn literally called michael one of her idols. she’d never write about him like that.

user12: y’all are missing the obvious answer—kimi. he’s the only one who would say something that blunt and not care about the fallout.

-> user13: kimi didn’t even talk to her half the time lol. i can’t see him caring enough to belittle her.

user14: okay, what if it’s no one we’re expecting? maybe it’s some random mid-grid guy like grosjean or massa.

-> user15: yn wouldn’t waste a whole chapter on someone irrelevant. it has to be one of the big names. my money’s on fernando or nico.

-> user1: fernando for sure. yn’s always been lowkey bitter about him, and this just proves it.

-> user2: it’s not fernando!! why can’t you just accept that some drivers are cocky without it being him??

-> user3: okay but if it’s not fernando, who else would it be?? the smug comments SCREAM his vibe.

user5: we’re all arguing, but yn’s probably laughing at us right now. she KNEW we’d be doing this.

user16: yn ‘attention whore’ yln.

user17: at least we know it wasn’t my king jb 😻

user18: idk who tf yn is but this tea is so juicy 😭

────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

[setting: thanksgiving dinner, complete chaos. plates of food are half-eaten, wine glasses are full, and cousin jess is recording everything on tiktok. the family is deep into an argument about “x marks the spot,” using jess’s infamous powerpoint as reference.]

uncle bob: jess, i still don’t get why you made a whole powerpoint about this.

cousin jess: because the people need to know, uncle bob. yn’s memoir is the drama of the decade, and you’re welcome for organizing all the evidence.

aunt carol: honestly, it’s that fernando. slide four proves it. all the press conferences where he interrupted her? it’s right there.

aunt fiona: fernando wasn’t that bad. he even congratulated her in, like, 2017. i think it’s nico. slide eight, jess literally wrote “petty king energy” under his name.

uncle hamish: it’s not nico. you’re all overthinking this. i say it’s jenson. didn’t he once call her “intense” in an interview?

cousin matt: jenson literally defended her against the media every other week, hamish. you clearly didn’t listen to slide six.

grandpa: i still don’t understand why this yn person didn’t just punch the guy.

grandma: because she has class, unlike this family. pass the stuffing.

aunt bobbi: wait, what about lewis? slide ten said they were “friendly but complicated.” maybe he was fake-nice to her.

uncle craig: fake-nice? lewis was the only one who liked her, bobbi. slide nine has like five examples of him hyping her up in interviews.

cousin jess: uncle craig, you’re wrong. he was supportive, but there’s that one time he ignored her after she beat him in qualifying. it’s suspicious.

aunt carol: you think it’s suspicious? no way. lewis isn’t smug enough to be x.

uncle hamish: oh please, you’re all just picking names because they sound dramatic. if anything, it was sebastian.

aunt fiona: seb? absolutely not. slide seven shows he called her “one of the best drivers on the grid” multiple times.

uncle bob: that’s suspicious. who compliments people that much unless they’re guilty?

grandma: compliments aren’t guilt, bob. stop eating the cranberry sauce straight from the bowl and get a grip.

aunt carol: you’re all wrong. slide four, people! fernando cutting her off mid-sentence! the man’s guilty as sin.

grandpa: why does anyone care about this? it’s all rich people in fancy cars. sounds like nonsense.

cousin matt: rich people drama is the best kind of drama, grandpa.

aunt bobbi: jess, why is kimi’s slide just a picture of him smoking with “#needthat” written under it?

cousin jess: because kimi’s innocent. everyone knows he doesn’t care about anything but being my dream man.

uncle craig: so why isn’t yn on the slide about drivers who were universally liked?

cousin jess: because she wasn’t universally liked, uncle craig. she was fast, hot, and female in a male-dominated sport. they were all salty.

uncle bob: well, now they’re all posting about how much they respect her.

grandma: of course they are. it’s called covering their asses.

uncle hamish: if i were yn, i’d name names. all this mystery is just fueling conspiracy theories.

grandpa: or she could just leave it alone so we don’t have to argue about it at thanksgiving. what the hell even is f1? is that nascar?

uncle craig: formula 1, dad. jesus, keep up.

grandma (snapping): if someone doesn’t pass me the cranberry sauce right now, i’m gonna be the next x.

[jess pans the camera to her grandma glaring at the table, muttering under her breath as the family keeps arguing.]

cousin jess (whispering into her phone): y’all, my family is losing it over x marks the spot. happy thanksgiving.

────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

liked by landopriv, ynupdates and 4,738,918 others.

ham1ltonshaderoom: an update on the ‘x marks the spot’ speculation. it started over who exactly is x, from f1 legend yn yln’s memoir and it is causing a stir! with former/current drivers taking to social media and journalists to prove their innocence. kimi räikkönen, when asked, said ‘yn deserved every win she got. people talked too much, but she let her driving do all the talking. always respected that about her.’

mick schumacher released a statement via instagram, with a montage of photos of him and his dad with the first female championship winner: ‘my dad always believed yn was one of the most talented drivers he’d ever seen. he admired her strength, her skill, and her ability to prove everyone wrong, time and time again. he spoke so highly of her and what she brought to the sport, and i know he’d be so proud to see her telling her story.’ when sebastian vettel made a rare appearance to the grid, he confirmed that he had bought a copy and thought that he was proud to watch yn ‘make history’.

now the sudden flurry of support is making fans of the sport wonder just who is genuine and who is covering his ass? what do you think ham1ltons?

view all 2,983 comments

user1: the way literally everyone is tripping over themselves to prove it’s not them is SO funny. one of you is lying, and we will figure it out.

-> user20: exactly!! the fact that EVERYONE is suddenly posting/talking feels so suspicious lmao. someone’s definitely guilty, and they’re trying to throw us off the scent.

user2: kimi’s response is so him. short, straight, and unbothered. it’s definitely not him.

-> user22: we’re all analysing this, but kimi’s out here just vibing like always. love that man.

user3: mick’s statement is beautiful and wholesome as always, but also low-key throwing shade at the others?? like, ‘my dad always supported her’ is giving ‘can’t say the same for you lot.’

-> user21: honestly, mick’s post is the only one that feels 100% genuine. his dad was always so supportive of yn.

user4: seb really said ‘i bought the book’ and dipped. man didn’t even deny anything outright. sus??

-> user5: nah, seb’s always been a yn fanboy. remember when he called her ‘the most talented driver on the grid’? it’s not him.

user6: the lewis and nico posts are giving major ‘damage control’ energy. both of them trying WAY too hard to sound supportive.

-> user7: facts. lewis called her a ‘trailblazer’ like we wouldn’t notice how cold things were between them back in the day.

-> user17: tbh, i don’t think it’s lewis. yn has said before that he was always encouraging her, and they’ve stayed friendly.

user8: fernando’s post feels so rehearsed. like, when has he ever gushed over yn like that before??

user9: low-key think it’s nico. man was so salty about literally everything back then, and the ‘petty king’ vibes match the memoir perfectly.

-> user10: yesss, especially the part where she said he didn’t congratulate her after her first win. sounds EXACTLY like something nico would do.

user11: not enough people are talking about jenson. just because he was her teammate doesn’t mean he’s innocent. the whole ‘answer my texts’ thing was cute, but he’s a smooth talker.

-> user12: nah, yn always spoke highly of jenson. he had her back when mclaren was treating her like a sex toy. i’m ruling him out.

user13: so we’re all just ignoring that fernando spent YEARS shading her in press conferences? india ‘13 is permanently engraved in my brain.

-> user18: can’t lie, if it’s fernando, i’ll be disappointed but not surprised. his 2013 energy was… a lot.

user14: honestly, they’re all acting sketchy. the sudden love bomb of support is too much. one of you is x and we will find out.

user15: plot twist: what if x isn’t even one of the obvious names? imagine it’s someone random like felipe massa lmao.

-> user16: watch it not even be one of the main suspects and we’ve been dragging the wrong guy this whole time 💀

user18: it’s giving ‘we need to get ahead of the narrative’ vibes, and i’m here for the chaos.

-> user19: everyone’s pr team is in OVERDRIVE rn lmfaoooo

────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

— all works taglist: @luvsforme @yelenasloverrrrr @donttouchthegnote @chelle1306 @bloodyymaryy @km-23mr @stinkyjax @f1kenzzz @ctrlyomomma @aliciaablueprint @theblueblub @namgification @tallrock35 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @ariellovelynn @shhhchriss @lifeless-firefly @xylinasdiary @evie-119 @itseightbeats @landososcar @yongi-lee @velentine @m1892 @blushmimi @evans-dejong @nixisracing @lethalvenus @sainzluvrr @santanasaintmendes @idontknowlmaoo @sainzluvrr @tetetoni @ssprayberrythings @heavy-vettel @tashisgf @daniskywalkersolo @c-losur3 @lestappenslover @linoscrly (see yourself tagged when you don’t wanna be? or you want to be and don’t see yourself? send me an ask!)

────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

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disneyvillainsdaily · 2 months ago

Text

Creatives have always fought to have representation in their projects. Even under a company like Disney, if the team has something they want to show, they'll find their way around whatever the suits and sales execs forbid (especially for non-theatrical releases/media, where they might be able to get away with a bit more).

It got me thinking about an episode of Lilo & Stitch: The Series! that I've mentioned before, the one about Pleakley's family wanting him to settle down with a wife. I thought about this episode specifically because Jumba and Pleakley may have been shipped by the writers through bits and jokes and one-offs throughout the show, but in this episode they really tried to do the most official, "We ship these characters," as they possibly could without actually getting in trouble with the higher-ups.

Here's the setup for the episode if you're unfamiliar:

Pleakley's mother wanted him to finally marry a girl, or else she would find a girl for him back on his home planet. Pleakley ends up lying to get out of the arrangement, saying that he already has a woman he's engaged to on Earth. Just a minute later, when he answers the door, he realizes he's only made the situation worse: his family's there on the doorstep, saying they immediately "hopped a wormhole" to be there before his supposed wedding day.

He begins to stack lies on top of lies and claims that Nani is his bride-to-be. Nani is only convinced to go along with it after being reminded that, if Pleakley left, the only remaining adult to supervise Lilo would be Jumba.

Both Pleakley and Nani don't enjoy the charade they have to put up with for the next few days. Nani begrudgingly plays her part up until the actual wedding day, where she finds out that a real ordained minister was hired, meaning she would be legally married to Pleakley, which is where she draws the line. Nani refuses to be a part of the lie any longer and leaves just before the ceremony begins.

Here's where the Pleakley/Jumba stuff begins (and where the creative team had to start tiptoeing around what would force a rewrite from the execs):

Lilo convinces Jumba off-screen to take Nani's place. This way there's no need to write any kind of "ew no I don't want to" joke or have Lilo bribe him or something of the sort to get Jumba to do it. We don't see or hear Jumba's thoughts when he would supposedly be told that he is legally marrying Pleakley. This way the writers are neither confirming nor denying anything about Jumba being interested in Pleakley or not.

During the ceremony, Jumba doesn't seem put off by it all. There's no gag that he thinks it's gross to be married to Pleakley, or is "only doing it" because Lilo said he has to, or that he wants to be the groom instead of the bride, or anything like that. When asked for his name, he does claim to be "Jumbina," but that's most likely because Pleakley's family specifically wanted him to marry a girl (and are a very heteronormative bunch; if Jumba walked down the isle as a second groom, they would've been just as upset as if they found out Pleakley wasn't actually engaged). Regardless, I'd say Pleakley looks content-enough that Jumba's the one walking down the isle instead of Nani.

When the minister then asks for the vows, the audience is only given a single line from Pleakley: "Dearest, the day we met, I couldn't take my eye off you." As he says this, the genetic experiment of the episode -who happens to be a lie detector experiment- starts beeping loudly, meaning that was a lie. Which actually makes total sense. That was a lie. If you go back to the day they met, Pleakley was being brought to Jumba's prison cell, where Pleakley was told he'd be shipped off to catch a deadly experiment with this criminally-convicted mad-scientist he just met. These two were absolutely not a case of "love at first sight." I mean, when Pleakley first saw him, Jumba was crazily ripping up and stuffing newspaper into his mouth.

And that's the ONLY vow that we get to hear either of them say at the wedding. The writers explicitly made the ONLY vow a false one so the lie detector could buzz at it. Jumba and Pleakley don't say anything about how much they might actually love each other, because then the writers would be forced to make it a lie so they wouldn't get in trouble for suggesting that the two male characters have feelings for each other. If it was all just part of the joke, it would be super easy for the characters to say how much they "really love one another" and then have the lie detector go off in the background. The writers can't have vows that would imply that these characters are gay, so they instead made the characters not say vows that would imply that they aren't gay.

Now, if you know anything about how the legality of marriage actually works, you know that most fiction gets it wrong: you don't stop someone from being married by interrupting their "I do"s, cutting the minister off before they say "I now pronounce you," stopping the kiss, taking the rings, or anything like that. You are finally "legally married" when you sign the marriage certificate and legal paperwork, which can be during, after, or even before the actual wedding.

So, while the ceremony gets crashed just before the end of it by Gantu trying to grab the genetic experiment, that doesn't actually stop the marriage proceedings unless the signings are postponed. Also, let's appreciate how Pleakley immediately hops into Jumba's arms at the sight of danger, and how Jumba accepts it.

After the ceremony is wrecked and Pleakley explains all of his lies to his family -and they apologize for being hard on him and not understanding- the minister stands up from under the rubble to ask who's paying for the officiation as he holds up some papers, supposedly the legal documents for the marriage. But no one actually responds. The scene ends with a look of newfound-understanding between Pleakley and his mother about their conversation from just a moment ago.

There's no further comment towards the minister about how they don't actually need marriage papers or that the marriage itself is being called off. No one says anything about it in the wrap-up scene just afterwards where Pleakley's family leaves. There's no, "Man, I'm glad I didn't actually have to marry Pleakley," from Jumba or some kind of, "I'm glad that's over," from Pleakley.

From all we know, Pleakley and Jumba did sign those papers for the minister to file with the state of Hawaii.

And this is the best the writers could do. They weren't allowed to canonize/confirm anything, even if they wanted to. They have to try making it as canon as possible by explicitly not stating certain things that would delegitimize it. It becomes a whole assignment to carefully slip past the people holding their paychecks.

As the industry and world have shifted a bit, different kinds of representation have become at least somewhat easier to include than these ever-so-meticulously-crafted inclusions from the past. But, when the people in power have doubts on what might make/lose money, they immediately look to topics like these that polarize extremist audiences. Taking any kind of positive/accepting stance on representation is the first thing they neutralize. So, even when the inclusion has to be as convoluted as this, I still personally see and appreciate everything that the creative teams do.

#pleakley #jumba jookiba #jumba and pleakley #lilo and stitch #disney villains daily #villain talks #scene spotlight #not a villain #lgbtqia #lgbtq #gay #long post

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flamingpudding · 9 days ago

Text

Dan's Rage Room

It all started as a little Joke for Danny. Jazz mentioned Dan needing a place to decompress and that resulted in Danny getting a crazy idea while he sat in the Buisness Class Course of his Highschool. It wasn't supposed to become a serious business but somehow the little warehouse in Amity Park he secured, through blackmailing Vlad cause the man owns him after all he was put through. Became an official big store, once Dani put up a sign saying 'Dan's Rage Room' as joke.

People of Amity Park apparently thought it was a legit store. And damn... Danny shouldn't have been as surprised as he was when more and more people appeared and asked how much an hour costed. It was Sam and Tucker that then convinced him to make it a legitimate Business, Jazz and his mother helped him fill out the form. And so 'Dan's Rage Room' became Danny's very own Business. Though he did try to push splitten ownership onto his clones/time selves/ cousins/ clone siblings / clone kids (It's complicated okay? Danny still hasn't figured out how to categorise Dan and Dani, but hey they were family.) But Dan and Dani refused to take any sort of owner ship, even when everything originally started as a place for Dan to unwind.

Eitherway his Business grew, and Danny ended up expanding to other cities, figuring out that if Amity Park's people needed this, others would too. With a bit of help and unwilling on his part teaching from Vlad. Danny opened up more Stores, Central City, Metropolis, Star City. Unintentionally Danny made enough money so much that he didn't knew what to do with it and suddenly felt a new kind of understanding for Sam. Despite being sure his parents likely already did that Danny made money Fonds for Jazz, Dan and Dani. He didn't have much hope to go to collage himself considering his grades but that was fine with him. (According to what clockwork let slip and he hadn't told anyone, he would become King of the Infinite realms anyway, no need for a college degree for that, right?)

And wenn his sister decided she wanted to go to university in Gotham, the most crime riddled city known? None of the three D's hesitated to follow. Danny opened another branch of 'Dan's Rage Room' deciding that would finance their live in Gotham and still be an outlet for Dan.

What Danny didn't expect was the amount of people that weren't just 'goons' like he expected paying to let loose in there. Not that he recognised them but some of Danny's new regulars made sure he knew who some of the apparent Big Names showing up to his store were.

Jason at first thought that a new drug place had opened up at the border to Crime Alley, but after observation and seeing not just Goons but also regular Gothamites frequenting the place. Jason gave it a cautious shot, he wallst into the place completely geared up as Red Hood expecting some muscular unkept drug dealer or something at the reception, but what he found was a boy that didn't look older than Tim, small lanky and looking weirdly tired. That took the wind out of his sails as he stared stunned at the kid for a moment.

"Ah... I see guns. A bullet room then? You seem new too, first time? An hour costs 50 bucks added 5 for every additional half an hour." The boy looked up briefly before looking back down at the book he was reading, muttering something about his sister making him visit online classes.

Jason was just about to say something when someone walked in behind him and he blinked. A fucking dump truck of muscle walked in flaming white hair looking ready to rip something apart. The kid didn't even look up as they held up a green card and the guy stomped past him into a door, Jason assumed lead to the... rage rooms?

It took a moment but once he composed himself again, Jason opened his mouth again only to get interrupted by a little girl stomping in next, screeching about a fruitloop and stupid galas and stupid boys. Again the boy at the reception didn't even loop up, holding another green card to the girl who then proceeded to go through the same door the other guy had.

Once again it took Jason a moment to compose himself again, before he spoke, gruff and voice modulated. "One hour... gun room." He would snoop around if he could but if this really was just a rage room business... well he had some unresolved frustrations with B stocked up he could let loose.

Jason quickly became a regular at that place, he kept visiting it, even when he found out some of their big Villains frequented the place too. Though apparently the Joker was band. One day a big ass sign appeared on the side of the building spelling out 'NO CLOWNS ALLOWED'. When he asked Danny, he had gotten to know the boy at the reception desk by now and found some uncanny resemblance to his little brother, the boy had just shrugged and said "I hate clowns." Laughter barked out of Jason for no reason and he took his regular room card chuckling a "You and me, and 99% of Gotham kid."

That place quickly became one of Jasons safe heavens. Even if he ever only went there in full Red Hood gear. This place helped him manage his rage and anger. Some of his siblings started to use that room too, he knew Damian went there too. In full Robin gear mind you but apparently they had a room where he could fully test out his swords skills. Good for the kid.

But what stung though was Bruce, that man still didn't trust the place, something about background checks not adding up.

Jason was going to refute that, that was until one day he noticed an unusual amount of white van all around Danny's store. And only moments after he entered the store guys completely and ridiculously dressed in white stormed the place holding what Jason thought was futuristic Guns at the Danny's head who appeared somewhat unfazed. Well no one could place Jason for pulling out his own gun and holding it onto the dressed in White guy's head while the man spewed some nonsense about ghosts and more. Like hell he was let these people destroy a new safe heaven.

If Jason spread the word in the underground and suddenly, villains, goons and gothamites as well as vigilantes (his overprotective brothers really, Dick was not going to let someone destroy a place his little wing and baby bat loved to frequent...) started a reverse hunt on people ridiculously dressed like them. It wasn't his doing. And he certainly loved the frustration it caused Bruce too, seeing as even Gordon and the police force, corrupt or not, were in on it too. Governmental institution or not, Jason would make sure the GIW would be going down soon enough.

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astonmartinii · 9 months ago

Text

knives out | lewis hamilton social media au

pairing: lewis hamilton x rosberg!reader

2016 saw the murder of brocedes right before our very eyes, but who got y/n in the will?

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

- part of the brother's best friend series -

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, maxverstappen1 and 751,209 others

tagged: nicorosberg

yourusername: back in barcelona! nothing has ever happened here, right? RIGHT?

view all comments

user1: when i'm in a victim of brocedes contest and y/n rosberg turns up

user2: nico was like "oh, lewis has had a good qualifying... here comes the curse"

user3: he's the hater we should all aspire to be

nicorosberg: barcelona is a beautiful place but you should pick your company well!

yourusername: great advice nico, i should've left you at home

nicorosberg: snore! i'm great company you just can't keep up with my great personality and wit

yourusername: what ever you need to tell yourself old man

nicorosberg: i'm two years older than you?

yourusername: how was the industrial revolution?

user4: i hope they never grow up and always argue in public

user5: omg the argument on sky about lewis v seb in canada... and jenson just stood there with the biggest shit-eating grin ever

lewishamilton: my trauma is not your joke

yourusername: it was my trauma too i was the one who had to listen to him complain for the next TWO WEEKS

lewishamilton: trying to find where i care...

yourusername: you complained first ??

lewishamilton: rightly so!

yourusername: do not tussle with me about this, by now i thought you'd know that us rosbergs don't play about complaining

lewishamilton: believe me my therapist knows that

user6: i know nico sat on his hands forcing himself not to comment back

user7: alternatively, celebrating that he still lives in lewis' head

lewishamilton

liked by georgerussell63, charles_leclerc and 2,305,899 others

tagged: yourusername

lewishamilton: @yourusername i may love you but if that man ever takes a picture of my car i'm putting a hit on his head

view all comments

user11: we got a relationship reveal and a death threat all in one post

user12: lewis saw yall ready to make a brocedes edit using this race and made sure you knew that he doesn't care about a his old haunts

user13: he was like yall shipping me with the wrong rosberg

yourusername: let's refrain from threats for now

lewishamilton: we're gonna have to get rid of that last name, no more curses

nicorosberg: RIGHT THAT IS IT IF YOU DARE GET MARRIED DOUBLE-BARRELLED OR ELSE, ROSBERGS ARE ELITE AND YOU WISH YOU HAD THIS NAME

yourusername: he does have a point

lewishamilton: i'm for real going to lose my mind that we haven't spoken in years and this is where he drew the line

nicorosberg: you told the world you're dating my sister at the same time as me

lewishamilton: stop cursing me then 🤨

nicorosberg: i don't curse you my devilish good looks just sent your engine into cardiac arrest

user14: i know toto wolff just fell to his knees in the mercedes garage seeing them bicker in instagram comments after making merc a literal warzone for years

user15: and yet this is the most brocedes way to go about it

georgerussell63: even if you're dating his sister, i'm still your favourite teammate right?

yourusername: valterri exists buddy soz

georgerussell63: *clutches my pearls*

lewishamilton: and that is exactly why valterri is my favourite teammate

georgerussell63: whatever 💁🏻‍♀️

charles_leclerc: not for long xx

yourusername: whoever can bring me the best coffee can get the crown?

lewishamilton: stop exploiting my teammate and future teammate

yourusername: that's what they're there for?

yourusername

liked by nicorosberg, maxverstappen1 and 823,087 others

tagged: lewishamilton

yourusername: anything happen this week?

view all comments

user19: y/n ruining her brother's week - anything happen this week?

user20: more like year

nicorosberg: more like life

yourusername: drama queen

nicorosberg: as i should be !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

yourusername: got enough exclamation marks in there buddy

nicorosberg: no open the door i need to scream directly in your ears

yourusername: if it's any consolation, the relationship started after 2016

nicorosberg: so he got me out of the way so he could go for my little sister 🤨

lewishamilton: yep!

nicorosberg: no i'm serious let me in i need to yell

nicorosberg: I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE I CAN HEAR ROSCOE

nicorosberg: fine i'll just abseil from my apartment give me a sec

user21: y/n please let him in he's so serious about that i can feel it

user22: anyone from monaco here and want to keep us updated?

danielricciardo: Y/N LET HIM IN HE NEARLY KICKED MY POTTED PLANT OFF THE BALCONY

yourusername: lol

danielricciardo: THIS IS NOT A LAUGHING MATTER PLEASE

lewishamilton: fine, you people are such bores

nicorosberg: i nearly lost a birkenstock

yourusername: and my inheritance nearly doubled

lewishamilton: *our

user23: i think lewis is having way too much fun with this

nicorosberg

liked by lewishamilton, jensonbutton and 692,889 others

tagged: yourusername

nicorosberg: we're back at the track and i've got a sneaking feeling that the red bull might be fast around here

view all comments

user24: nico said babe won't catch me posting lewis on my instagram

maxverstappen1: sure thing buddy he's dating your sister, but there's NO NEED TO TAKE IT OUT ON ME

nicorosberg: i said you're going to win?

maxverstappen1: i DON'T NEED YOUR BAD JUJU GIVE IT TO LEWIS HE'S THE ONE YOU'RE ANGRY AT NOT ME

nicorosberg: i'm not angry at lewis

lewishamilton: really?

nicorosberg: OF COURSE NOT

yourusername: he'll get over it soon lewis don't worry

lewishamilton: really? he's still holding a grudge from 2016 - that was EIGHT YEARS AGO

yourusername: yeah sorry that's a rosberg trait ❤️

user25: not the grid becoming victims of the brocedes fall out eight years later

yourusername: you're so shady why did you crop lewis out?

nicorosberg: outfit wasn't on par with the rosbergs

yourusername: oh no

lewishamilton: HOW DARE YOU

yourusername: you queens can take this out on each other i'm not getting involved in this one

lewishamilton: i know this birkenstock wearing primadonna is not dissing my custom mcqueen

nicorosberg: it's custom because no one would want something so ugly 🫶🏻

user26: someone take nico off the parc ferme interviews lewis might just run him over

user27: he should just let roscoe at his ankles

nicorosberg: that vegan dog can't do shit to me

yourusername: leave the kids out of it nico

nicorosberg: you birthed that? my condolences to your reproductive system

lewishamilton: DO NOT FAT SHAME MY SON

roscoelovescoco: kill yourself @nicorosberg

user28: WTF IS GOING ON

lewishamilton

liked by georgerussell63, kimiantonelli and 2,844,599 others

tagged: yourusername

lewishamilton: he may have won the battle, but i won the war

view all comments

user29: bro you're going to be subjected to boho chic Christmases for the rest of your life

user30: guy is going to get poisoned via christmas nut roast by nico 😭

yourusername: this is corny but i love you

lewishamilton: i love you too i'm going to pretend you didn't just call my super thought out caption corny

yourusername: it was corny and that's what i love about you

nicorosberg: you need better standards

yourusername: for someone who had so much homoerotic tension with the man that you retired you're being very rude about the subject of such tension

nicorosberg: that's not how that went

yourusername: sure, jan

nicorosberg: stop trying to rewrite history

yourusername: i saw it with my own two eyes... are you jealous that i ended up with lewis instead of you?

nicorosberg: nO

user31: i feel like this is definitely not the argument i thought i would see on the internet today

user32: lewis hamilton got passed around the rosberg house ... this your goat?

user33: both rosbergs are hawt as hell so yes!

charles_leclerc: oh great, keep stoking the flames lewis! if you invoke his wrath upon ferrari next season i will personally sacrifice you to the gods

lewishamilton: excuse me?

charles_leclerc: i don't know if you know this but i kinda don't have a world championship yet ... I DO NOT WANT THE ROSBERG CURSE ATTACHED TO ME

lewishamilton: do not minimise my trauma charles

charles_leclerc: you haven't joined ferrari yet, you don't know trauma. be nice to him, i can't finish my career with max having more championships than me

maxverstappen1: skill issue

user34: do these people ever stop arguing?

yourusername: no! and i can assure you it's worse in person

user35: worst brocedes tussle since nico found out?

yourusername: i was making a list of people to invite to my birthday dinner and nico was angry that i wrote lewis' name before his

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 1,304,277 others

tagged: lewishamilton, nicorosberg

yourusername: still a victim of the brocedes nuclear fallout all these years later

view all comments

user37: bro nearly lost her bf to her brother

user38: lewis couldn't have nico and went for his sister instead

user39: insert larry stylinson theory here that y/n is just the beard and toto wolff is simon cowell

yourusername: i'm blocking all of you

nicorosberg: still yapping about this ... and i'm the dramatic one

yourusername: babe we can all see all of your comments on previous posts where you're the literal definition of crashing out

nicorosberg: BARCELONA WAS LEWIS' FAULT WE ALL KNOW THIS

yourusername: when did i bring up barcelona... you just proved my point IDIOT

nicorosberg: make me sound insane all you want ... TOTO IS THE REAL VILLAIN HERE

yourusername: ???

nicorosberg: he notebooked us

yourusername: riiiiiiiiiiight

nicorosberg: i wrote lewis a letter when i retired and toto never gave it to him

yourusername: you're telling me i had to hide my relationship for so long because you trusted that austrian big foot fraud to be your messenger pigeon ?

user40: did we just get insane brocedes lore on a random tuesday?

user41: you're telling me it was toto's fault the whole time?

lewishamilton: well yes it would've been helpful to have gotten the letter, you have to admit the sneeking around was hot

yourusername: you're right 🤭🤭🤭

lewishamilton: hiding in your bathroom while nico came over to bitch about me was a personal highlight

nicorosberg: excuse me?

lewishamilton: i know we're trying to be better, so here's a compliment: you're very creative when being mean about me

nicorosberg: why thank you 😝

yourusername: nuh uh we ain't doing this shit

lewishamilton: don't worry y/n you'll always be my favourite

nicorosberg: but you'll never have our trip to greece :P

yourusername: i will strangle you britney

user42: y/n got brocedes to talk again, but at what cost?

lewishamilton

liked by nicorosberg, charles_leclerc and 4,677,309 others

tagged: yourusername

lewishamilton: got y/n's hand in marriage in the will (after i murdered her brother's career)

view all comments

user43: y/n can't escape brocedes even on her engagement post

user44: she (and them) will never get rid of it

yourusername: i love you baby, here's to the rest of our life (even if that includes you arguing with my brother for the rest of time)

lewishamilton: i love you even more, i'd go through all of that psychological warfare again and again if it means i still end up with you

yourusername: we've always had an invisible string

lewishamilton: and there's no one else i'd want to be cosmically tied to <3

user45: i might cry they're so cute

user46: that comment thread called me single in about 100 different languages

charles_leclerc: congratulations you two! also congratulations to me - no more rosberg curse!

yourusername: really? on this POST?

charles_leclerc: hold on girlypop, it was mr hamilton-rosberg that brought up your brother first not me

lewishamilton: you better get all this attitude out now charles

charles_leclerc: what? you gonna marry my brother?

yourusername: lol i'm not threatened by them

arthurleclerc: why am i being shaded?

user47: 2025 HURRY THE FUCK UP

nicorosberg: i guess you're finally getting the rosberg name you've always wanted ...

lewishamilton: yes... i have always had a crush on your sister

nicorosberg: GASP! PERVERT 🫵🏻 i have known you since we were 12 you GROSS MAN

lewishamilton: WELL YES I WAS ALSO 12 I'VE NOT ALWAYS BEEN 36 MORON

yourusername: well doesn't this just get me excited for christmas

user48: i know a monopoly board hate to see these three coming

yourusername: @nicorosberg can i have an actual congratulations???

nicorosberg: i'm happy for you, i'm glad you're happy (also he's loaded so slay)

yourusername: i'll take it!

lewishamilton: sure whatever thanks nico !

fin.

note: lol finally finished this one! i have been very in and out on here, i have a lot going on x

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #f1 social media au #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton instagram au

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talon-the-hawk · 1 month ago

Text

Yandere! Batfam x Neglected Streamer! Reader

Previous Next

Chapter 4: Fatherless Behaviour

You were living in ignorant bliss.

Although your apartment wasn't in the nicest part of Gotham, it was still something you could call yours. Sure the ceiling had spots where it was leaking, and your neighbours were up at all hours of the night screaming at each other, but they weren't loud enough for your mic to pick up so you tried your best to just block it out.

Your apartment wasn't luxurious by any means. The carpeted floors were stained from the previous owners, and the provided bedframe creaked whenever you laid down. The kitchen cabinets never fully closed, and you would have to run your shoulder into the pantry door for the lock to catch.

But it was only temporary until you found a new place to live.

Or so you hoped.

As much as you loved the few friends you had made in Gotham, you knew you needed something more.

Metropolis, maybe? Star city? The options were endless, and the goal of getting as far away from your past seemed to be right in your reach.

"What are you wearing?" Damian asked, looking at the new hoodie Jon adorned himself with.

"Huh? Oh, the hoodie? It's the newest merch from that streamer I showed you! It even came signed by them!" Jon replied happily, showing off the signature.

How does Jon have signed merch before he did. It wasn't fair.

"I can see that. Why are you wearing it?" Damian asked, feeling an odd sense of jealously rising up in him. It didn't make sense to be jealous. Damian Wayne is above emotions like jealousy.

Jon just stared at him with an innocent look of confusion.

"Because I'm a fan, duh?"

Damian just stayed silent, lips pursed.

It was his own fault for mocking you. He can't be jealous when he was the one that drove you away. And yet...he longs to be the one in the hoodie; He longs to be the one that you go to for consults on merch designs. You knew how artistic he could be, he could help with your branding.

"Here, wanna watch the newest stream with me?" Jon hummed, waving his phone around. All Jon got in reply was a soft 'tch' and a nod.

"Alright, chat. Everyone's been asking for it, so here we go." You state, pulling up the little rank board on your monitor.

"Ranking people my chat has shipped me with."

You show off the small collection of little images at the bottom of your screen.

"I've scoured the deepest darkest corners of the internet...cough cough, reddit and tumblr, to see just who my chat think I'd be compatible with."

You pull up the first little image.

"First up we've got.." You had to take a moment to breathe, barely containing your laughter.

"The penguin."

You watched the chat flood with different opinions on the ship, ranging from disgust to mocking jests.

"Yeah, this is going in the F tier. Chat, he's like 60. At that point you can't even make Daddy jokes...that's like grandpa type shit. Thanks, but no thanks."

You quickly drop the little image into the F tier slot moving onto the next one.

"Next up we've got Kid Flash...honestly, y'all. He pops in for a cameo on stream one time and suddenly there's fanart."

A little ping noise alerts you to a donation, and you look over.

Speedster098 donated $10: Happy to cameo again whenever you need me to ;)

You scoff, clicking your tongue as your chat reacts to the text to speech message.

"I thought I told you to stop donating, KF. I know you have like $13 total in your bank account." You state, quietly dragging the little image into the A tier space. You watch your chat go crazy with ship names and 'awwws', snorting.

"Yeah yeah, no comment. Those who know, know."

You repeat the process, listing off a couple more streamers until an image pops up that makes you grin.

"Red Arrow." You hum in amusement. Your mouse stutters for a moment, but then you slowly move the picture into the S tier space.

"Chat, hear me out." You begin, watching your fans blow up in reaction. A donation pinged, the text to speech bot reading out the little note that came with the money.

Areyoushore?345 donated $5: Robin hood junior? Really?

"Aye, aye...all Imma say is that he's an archer. That means he's good with his hands, no?"

You looked over your chat, a certain comment catching your eye and making you laugh.

" 'Fatherless behaviour'...oh, ToxicCreed. I hate to be the one to burst your bubble here mate, but that's kinda my thing. Fatherless, Motherless. The whole orphan shabang."

That was all Dick needed to hear to shut his laptop quickly.

Roy? And Wally?

He wasn't sure how to feel. His baby sibling was pining over one of his best friends, and they didn't even know it. This wasn't right. He knew both of the men you spoke of, and neither of them were good enough for you.

And this talk of fatherless behaviour? You have a father, a family. Why make jokes about things that aren't true? Don't you know how much Bruce cares?

Speaking of, why would Bruce have even approved of your leaving? Surely you spoke to your father before leaving, why wouldn't he have told the rest of them about your departure? How could he let you live in a dangerous city completely alone with no protection?

This just wouldn't do. This stream alone proved that he needed to see you. Making such comments are just opening you up to being exploited by the darkest corners of Gotham.

Don't even get him started on Wally's flirting with you. How could he- your big brother not know that one of his best friends had been hanging out with you behind his back? He would definitely have a talk with Wally, and soon.

All he's waiting for is the call from Jason confirming your location.

A/N:

Y'all I am so sorry, school has been whooping my ass so I haven't had a lot of time to write lately lol. Anyways hope you guys found this chapter satisfactory!

Taglist: @vanessa-boo @jjsmeowthie @cxcilla @itsberrydreemurstuff @trashlanternfish360 @starsswaggy @legolas-the-homeschooled-elf @nickithearticorn @hallahella @lettucel0ver @kittzu @cssammyyarts @ryuushou @welpthisisboring @neverdead2 @mallowryblog @lingxio @the-dumber-scaramouche @oxionsworld @raini-sanchez @jellyedkazoo @alishii @bellethesleepypotato @icefox8155 @wizzerreblogs @darling-dearesttt @depressed--therapist @crazycaoticsimp @briceericeee @venomsvl @tulnukaz @deathbynarcisstick @cqerrz @sadeem575 @question-mark-v2 @b4tm4nn @mxvoid26 @eli-chris @wisefuncherryblossom @frank-vanderboom @atomicarose @sleeping-l0s3rs @lovebug-apple @jellystar-star @definitely-not-sammie @chi1lllb @peche4et3chocolat @agsggebhzgehkfisnx @zhentheraven @flightless-magpie @wpdarlingpan @wishiwaswritingrn @mysticalcollectionheartme @hai-there-how-are-you @godoreo22 @ive-made-so-many-mistakes @funtimekoda14 @ilovecoffe0 @estella-satn

#gender neutral reader #batfam x neglected reader #batfam x reader #no beta we die like men #yandere batfam x neglected reader #yandere batfam x reader

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sailorsoons · 4 months ago

Text

You. Always. (k.sy)

PAIRING: Soonyoung x f. Reader

SUMMARY: Soonyoung isn’t a jealous guy - he’s not. But sometimes it gets to him, the way other people look at you and fall a little in love with you. Don’t they know you have him?

WC: 5055

AU: Established Relationship, pwp

GENRE: Smut, Fluff

RATING: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

WARNINGS: Almost jealous Soonyoung, a little hint of insecurity but nothing crazy, recreational drinking, Mingyu and Wonwoo lowkey being a little annoying and drunk, explicit language, explicit sexual content including unprotected vaginal sex, nipple play, oral (m. receiving), praise kink, pet names like baby and good boy, reader on top, spit and other bodily fluids, not explicit dom/sub dynamics but Soonyoung is very soft in this and reader is guiding him in parts, biting, both reader and Soonyoung are a little dazed and kinda spacy but it’s not explicitly subspace or described in the same way. THIS FIC IS UNEDITED.

A/N: This was originally posted on my old blog sailorrhansol and is now being re-uploaded here :)

A/N 2: This is straight up from a dream I had, no joke. Woke up and was like I just had the weirdest dream about Soonyoung but it was in the Bahamas and a cruise ship was involved at some point but this is almost scene for scene from my dream. I feel blessed.

MASTERLIST | PERMANENT TAG LIST | ASK

“TRY THIS ONE,” MINGYU INSISTS, LAUGHING. He shoves a drink in your hand, all smiles and glittering eyes. You take the cup from him, the music of the club pulsing around you. A soft buzz ripples through you, a little drunk from the long day out in the sun followed by drinks at sunset, dinner and the afterparty. “It’s soooo good.”

You trust Mingyu’s judgment - about drinks, anyway. Wonwoo cheers for you, clapping to the beat of the music as you bring the cup to your lips and knock it back. The soda mixed in the drink bubbles in the back of your throat but the taste of something strong burns and you cough, pulling the cup from your mouth with a grimace and squinted eyes.

Both of them begin laughing hysterically, throwing back their hands and clapping their hands. You laugh too, setting the cup down as you try and clear your throat from the liquid fire, tongue stuck out as you reach for a sweating glass of water.

Wonwoo orders more drinks as you suck down water, freeing your mouth of the bitter taste of whatever it is they gave you. You turn on the stool, looking around the beachside club for Soonyoung. You catch him on the far side leaning against a wall, waiting for the bathroom. Sensing your gaze, he cranes his neck to look toward you, eyes pinning you to the spot immediately.

Even from across the room, his gaze makes your stomach flip. You grin shyly, waving your hand a little. His lips twitch but his gaze shifts toward Mingyu and Wonwoo. His mouth tilts down a little before the bathroom door opens and he turns away entirely, vanishing down the hall.

A server appears with a round of clear shots, setting them down on the table. Mingyu leans forward, picking one up with the intention of handing it to you, but you wave him off. “I’ll wait for Soonyoung.”

Mingyu cranes his head. “Yeah, where the fuck did he go? I kind of forgot he was here.”

It isn’t Mingyu’s fault - he hasn’t known you for very long. Soonyoung has a habit of making friends anywhere the two of you go on vacation, though, and through the last week, you’ve managed to make Wonwoo and Mingyu regular friends while enjoying the summer off the coast of Greece. It had started with a volleyball game and now it has escalated to lunches, dinners and nightly escapades.

Ever the talker - much like your boyfriend - Mingyu turns to the table next to yours and strikes up a conversation with the group of people there. Within a few minutes, he’s pulling their table to yours and shouting their names at you. You shake unfamiliar hands and grin, just happy to feel the balmy air on your skin and feel the heat of summer.

Another round of drinks appears in clear, plastic cups, obeying the no glass on the beach rule. The beach club is lowkey and tucked away into the side of the mountain at the very end of the beach, requiring a trek through the sand to get there.

The area is open to the elements with wooden pavilions housing a few tables and benches. In the middle of the club is a long, illuminated shallow pool with tables for guests who are willing to take off their shoes and wade through the cool water to get there.

You look down at the red drink in your hand, raising a brow as you watch everyone else throw the drink back, chugging as quickly as they can. When they put their cups down and realize you haven’t had yours, they immediately start yelling at you, Mingyu grabbing your forearm to shake you back and forth as he pouts and yells at you to chug.

“I’m gonna get too drunk,” you whine, holding onto the cup and trying not to spill the liquid as Mingyu complains. He pouts and gives you puppy eyes, clasping his hands together as he begs. Wonwoo and your new friends immediately join him, all of them peering up at you.

“Please,” Wonwoo pleads from across the table, clasped hands tucked under his chin. “Please please please please.”

Before you can tip the cup back, it’s being pulled upward and out of your grip. You look up in surprise, mouth falling open as Soonyoung frees it from your grasp and tilts the cup to his lips. You watch as he drains it, head tilted back to expose the tan softness of his throat. Some of the red spills over the side, running down his chin and throat.

You watch the beads of liquid, suddenly unable to focus on anything else but the way he looks in that moment. When you blink, Soonyoung’s head is no longer tilted as he leans forward to place the empty cup on the table. He doesn’t bother to wipe the red on his neck and you instinctively grab napkins as he throws himself in the booth across from you.

He notices you holding them out and he takes them wordlessly, his energy shifted suddenly as he wipes the sticky red from his skin. If your new friends notice, they don’t say anything, cheering for him and then ordering more drinks as they shout over the music.

When he left to use the restroom, your boyfriend had been in high spirits and a rowdy mood. Now, he’s subdued, eyes flickering between Wonwoo and Mingyu, a little darker than before. You frown, finishing the rest of your water as you drink in Soonyoung’s posture: slouched, mouth pouted, eyes narrowed.

Mingyu asks if you want another drink and you watch as Soonyoung’s mouth turns down. Ah. You decline and immediately Mingyu makes Soonyoung the same offer, but he shakes his head, suddenly interested in his phone. You think Mingyu notices this time that one of your party is clearly no longer in the drinking mood and disengages, turning easily to the others.

You nudge Soonyoung’s foot under the table. He looks up at you, a little dejected and shrugs his shoulders as if to say what? You nod your head toward the exit, raising your brows. He follows your meaning and pauses for a moment, as though he’s torn between ending the night far earlier than usual or trying to endure his mood.

Eventually, he nods, turning off his phone and shoving it in his pocket. You stand and announce that you’re feeling a little tired, but thank your friends for the drinks. They all immediately complain, begging you to stay for at least one more round.

“It’s always one more round with you all,” you shoot back. “We can catch up another day. I’m tired and honestly I really just want to lay in bed with my boyfriend.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mingyu huffs, waving you off. “Do whatever it is couples do on vacation.”

Without a word, you hold your hand out to Soonyoung to leave. He stares at it for a moment before his mouth twitches upward and he takes it, lacing his fingers with yours. You give him a gentle squeeze as you lead toward the exit of the club, waving to the manager who is used to your group’s presence by now.

Outside, the world is only lit by the moon. It sits high up in the sky, turning the world a dark blue as you and Soonyoung walk the beach. The quiet tension follows him outside of the club and down a few meters. You wait for him to say something, peeking at him from the corner of your eye.

In the years you’ve been dating, you’ve learned to read him pretty well. You know something about your interaction with Mingyu and Wonwoo bothers him, but you’re unsure of the specifics. Soonyoung isn’t a jealous boyfriend, but every once in a while there is something that bothers him. An old wound that peels open at the edge and stings him.

You tug on his hand. He’s surprised, stumbling a little as you yank him off balance and into you. His cologne is laced with his own natural scent, making your head spin as your chests press together and you bring a hand up to his face, stroking a strand of dark hair out of his eyes.

Soonyoung is beautiful. You’ve always thought so. Eyes that can go from intense to gentle, a round face that is somehow also sharp, a cute mouth prone to laughing. You’ve traced the lines of his face over and over again and still, every time you’re this close to him, you feel your heart skip a beat.

“You’re not jealous right?” he shakes his head imperceptibly. He looks down at you, bottom lip jutting out a bit. You fight a smile, trying to focus on making sure he’s okay instead of the way his face has melted from contemplative to pouting. “You can tell me if I did something that made you uncomfortable, you know that right?”

He nods in tiny. His hands hang at his sides, like he’s hesitant to touch you. To do anything. You take his face in both of your hands, cocking your head to the side as you study him. “What’s the matter, baby? What’s bothering you?”

“I’m not jealous,” he starts and stops. You wait for him to continue. You’ve always been better at putting your thoughts to words than he has, and you know he just needs the time to organize them. “And you never do things that make me jealous. I just…”

Ocean water surges behind you, the gentle push and pull of the swells the only sound as Soonyoung strings his thoughts together. You continue to cradle his face in your hands, thumb stroking back and forth on his cheek. You feel him lean into your touch, going a little weak under your attention.

“I just know how easy it is to love you,” he finally says. He chews his bottom lip a little and you catch it with your thumb, keeping him from breaking the skin. “You are beautiful and charming, and I can always tell when other people realize it too. It isn’t that… I think you’d like them back or anything. I just feel possessive and then silly for feeling that way.”

“It isn’t silly.”

“It isn’t?” You shake your head and his voice gets small and soft. “I don’t want it to seem insecure or annoying, and I don’t know why I suddenly felt that way. I usually don't.”

“It’s not silly,” you assure him again. “It’s okay to feel that way sometimes. You’re a human being and you’re allowed to feel things, even if you don’t necessarily know why or how you feel them.”

“I’m sorry I made us leave early.”

“You didn’t make us do anything, and there is nothing to apologize for. I like going home and just spending time with you. I came here with you. We can make vacation friends all we want, but I have the most fun when you’re involved.”

His mouth twitches in a smile and he nods a little, affirmed by your words. “Can we go home?”

“Mhmm.”

You lean up on your toes and press a quick kiss to his mouth. Immediately he wants more, chasing your lips but you skip away from him, tugging him along by his hand. He frowns, a little put out. You try not to giggle, feeling your stomach flip a little.

Soonyoung is so rare like this. He loves being soft, but this is something even gentler. Something delicate and wonderful and endearing. You can’t help but keep him trailing after you, feeling the way his eyes linger on you. Hungry. Wanting. Needing.

You keep him waiting.

Catching a taxi up the mountain to the house you’re staying at is easy. The driver rolls the window down, letting the salty air drift in as he goes up and up. You lean against Soonyoung’s shoulder, putting your entwined hands in your lap. He melts into you, head atop yours and eyes fluttering shut as the breeze lifts his hair.

You love him like this. He looks so young, so capable of love. It’s your favorite thing about him, his ability to love freely, deeply and often. There is so much affection and kindness in him, a well so deep that you have yet to hit the bottom.

Soonyoung is a little drowsy when the taxi pulls up to the village square. He rouses with a mumbled thank you and clambours out the car behind you, eager to follow your lead up the winding steps that lead through the village houses.

It’s mostly quiet, with the echoes of voices drifting up from open windows and patios, the din of voices from restaurants in the main square hanging on the wind. You manage not to get lost this time as you navigate the winding pathways to the correct house, the blue fence blending in with the dozen other blue fences.

The cicadas are quiet as you walk down the steps to the front of the home. You tap Soonyoung’s pockets and he blushes, forgetting he has the keys. He’s quick to produce them and pass them over, watching you expectantly as you unlock it and step into the darkness.

Cool air drifts in from the open windows. There’s no air conditioning in the rented house, but the ocean wind that comes in at night through open shutters is enough to cool you off.

Soonyoung is quiet. He follows your lead up the stairs to the second floor where the bedroom is, lingering in the doorway when you drop his hand and turn to face him as you walk backward into the room. He’s hypnotized as you unbutton the top of your shirt slowly, staring at him.

The way he looks at you ignites a fire inside of you. No one else could look at you like this, equal parts reverence and hunger. No one else could make your hands shake as you stare at him staring at you, his lips parted a little, tongue darting out to wet them as he swallows.

Your blouse falls open and you shuck it off, letting it hit the floor. Moonlight paints your side profile. Soonyoung doesn’t dare move from the door until you hold out a hand, palm upward. “Come here,” you whisper. He obeys immediately, nearly tripping over his feet to get to you.

His hands go around your waist, warm against your skin. You wind your arms around his neck, pulling him in close, fingers threading in his hair and pulling a little. He lets out a soft sound as you tilt his face toward yours, forcing him to meet your eyes. His pupils are blown and you can feel his heart thundering against yours.

“You know I love you more than anything else, right?” For a second, he just stares at you, eyes fixated on your mouth. You pull his hair a little more and he sucks in a sharp breath before nodding a little. He seems too dazed to do more than the barest acknowledgement. “Do you want me to show you?”

You lean up to brush your nose against his. Soonyoung’s eyes fall shut and you feel a shiver go through him. His breath is unsteady when you brush your mouth against his in an almost kiss. “Do you want me to show you how much I love you, Soonyoung?”

He nods again, unable to find words. Your nails scratch at his scalp gently and he lets out a breathy moan, melting in your hands. “Okay,” you whisper, pressty a soft kiss to his mouth. He tries to chase your lips again but you step back and tug at him. “Come lay down.”

Soonyoung obeys. He’s always been a good boy, but having him like this isn’t common. You like to think that you’re both equal parts in charge in the bedroom, flowing with whatever the other needs. Having him like this, sitting down on the bed and looking up at you like you cradle his world in your hands though… it lights you up.

“Lay back for me,” you instruct gently. He does immediately, bouncing a little on the mattress. You climb onto the mattress, knees on either side of his waist as you crawl up toward him, settling your weight on his hips. Immediately his hands reach toward your hips and stop, hovering as he gets stuck between doing what he wants and waiting for you to tell him. “Go ahead,” you whisper, leaning toward him. “Take whatever you want. You can have whatever.”

Warm hands grip your waist. Your fingers expertly undo the buttons of his shirt and you make sure to brush them against his stomach as you move upward. You feel the muscles jump and he lets out another breathy sound. His hands just remain on your sides, not ready to explore more as he fixates on the way you pull his shirt off of his shoulders.

He’s a little clumsy when he leans up to help you shuck it off. You don’t care, surging forward to capture his mouth in a full kiss as he does. He forgets all about taking the shirt off, sleeves halfway down his arms as he leans forward to lick into your mouth, hungry and desperate for whatever you’ll give him.

You don’t hold back, letting him consume you. His mouth is warm and wet, tasting faintly of cherry from one of the drinks he had earlier. You love it, humming delightly as your hands brush from his shoulders to where his shirt is stuck near the elbows. You tug but the material is restricted, making you break away from the kiss with a laugh.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, letting your hips go to take the shirt all the way off.

Immediately your hands seek the heat of his skin, brushing from his shoulders to his chest and down his stomach and back up, fingers loving every groove and plane. He shivers under your touch, eyes fluttering shut. “You’re so pretty,” you whisper, pushing him back gently so that he’s laying down again. He lets you trace him, though you can feel his hips twitch under you, turned on by your exploration. “So pretty, Soonyoung. Do you know that?”

Again, he gives the tiniest nod. You smile and lean forward, holding yourself up by planting a hand on either side of his head. You catch his mouth again and he lifts his head up, eager to taste you. A hum of appreciation escapes you as you kiss him slowly, pressing your hips down into his.

Soonyoung moans and it’s so delicate that it makes you dizzy. You feel fucked out from this version of him already, the room spinning as you rut gently into him. You grab his hands that rest on your ass and pull them up your sides to your bra, a command.

He understands immediately, pulling at the clasps to undo the back. You break the kiss again, mouth feeling bruised, to lean up and toss the garment. His hands find your chest immediately and you feel goosebumps burst on your skin at his touch, large hand squeezing.

You let him rub his thumb over your pert nipples, spiking the pleasure in your stomach. You let out a light sound and shiver in his hands, ducking back down to press your mouth to his lips, the corner of his mouth, his chin - anywhere you can kiss.

His skin is salty and sweet, your tongue darting out to soothe his flesh after a sharp bite. He’s putty beneath you, completely at your mercy as your mouth maps out the way you love him. Every kiss, bite and lick is another declaration: I love you. I love you. I love you.

Light moans drip from his lips as you pepper him with kisses. Dragging your teeth across his chest lightly, you watch as he shivers and squeezes his eyes shut. Grinning, you move your mouth over his nipple, tongue flicking out lightly. A sharp hiss escapes through his gritted teeth, his head digging backward into the bed as he arches under you.

“Fuck,” he gasps.

A hum escapes you as you close your mouth over his nipple, sucking gently. He’s so sensitive, whining and squeezing your sides. You trail your mouth across his chest, leaving a wet trail as you do before dragging your teeth across his other nipple.

“Pretty,” you mumble again, moving your mouth lower. You teeth at his skin as you go, feeling him twitch beneath you. His hands drop to the sheet, twisting them in a vice grip as he lets you scoot down his lap until you’re off the bed and on the carpet, undoing his pants as you go.

Getting him out of his pants is hard - Soonyoung is loose-limbed and clumsy, hands shaking as he helps you pull the fabric down followed by his briefs. You let out an appreciative moan when you take his cock in your hand, heavy, warm and leaking at the tip.

He can barely keep it together when you stroke him, hand firm, thumb brushing over the sticky tip. You watch every reaction, eyes focused on the flush in his cheeks, the way he chews on his bottom lip to try and keep from whimpering, the way his fingers twist in the blankets.

“So perfect,” you whisper, leaning up to kiss his inner thighs as you continue to work him with your hand. His hips twitch upward and you let him, continuing to run your tongue along his thigh. “You’re the perfect boyfriend.”

“Hnnn,” is the mumbled answer.

Leaning up high on your knees, you tilt his cock toward your mouth, licking leisurely around the tip. He keens and you smirk, feeling your cunt clench as you take him in your mouth properly, spurred on by the way he falls apart instantly.

This is another thing you love. It doesn’t matter the dynamic, Soonyoung always crumbles at your touch - craves it, needs it, wants it more than anything. It’s hard not to feel like a god as you hear him pant your name, watch the way the breath catches in his throat as you take him deep into your throat, the flat of your tongue scraping the underside of his cock as you go.

You’re not clean with it. You let spit drip out the corner of your mouth, let yourself gag a little. Work what you can’t fit past your lips with the rest of your hand, getting carried away. His hand shoots to your head - he doesn’t push or pull, just leaves it there, like it can ground him.

Pulling off with a loud pop, you give his shaft a squeeze, kissing the inside of his thigh again. A mix of cum and spit shine in the moonlight when you pull your mouth away.

“I love seeing you like this,” you rasp. “Love watching you fall apart.”

“Please,” he gasps, managing to lift his head up and look down at you. His hair is damp with sweat and his eyes are fucked out, gaze unfocused. “Don’t wanna come in your mouth.”

“I’ve got you.” You give a single, long lick up his shaft for good measure, feeling him tremble before you stand up to take your pants off. He makes a pitiful sound, hand shooting toward you, hating being away from you. “One second, baby. Sorry.”

“S’okay.”

Naked, you crawl up the bed again. His hands shoot to your thighs, kneading the flesh and rubbing his palms up and down, warming you up. You feel the wetness drip down your thighs, worked up from working him up. From the way he moans when you press your pussy to his cock, you know he can feel it.

“All good?” you ask gently, pressing your forehead against his. His eyes are closed and he’s breathing hard, a sheen of sweat on his brow. You hold yourself over him with one hand and bring the other up to brush the hair off his forehead. “Too much?”

He shakes his head. “No, just. Sensitive.”

“Mhmm. You’ll tell me if it’s too much?”He nods in tiny, opening his eyes to look up at you like you’re the sun, the moon, and all of his stars. “Good boy,” you breathe and he moans, hips canting upward to rub his cock against your folds. “I love you.”

He nods again, eager and desperate. “Love you.”

Sitting up on your knees, you reach a hand under you, gripping him firmly. Soonyoung opens his eyes, making sure to watch your every move with swollen, parted lips and half-lidded eyes. You feel drunk from the way he looks at you, as hypnotized by him as he is of you.

You press the tip of his cock against your entrance, both of you groaning. Carefully, you sink down on him, your breath getting stuck in your throat. The stretch punches the breath from your lungs but it’s good, the ache replaced with something stronger, better. He fills up every part of you - you feel him deep in your stomach as you full seat yourself on him, ass pressed to his pelvis as you fight for air.

“Fuck, Soonyoung,” you mutter, falling forward to plant a hand on his chest. You lean your weight forward, pushing him into the mattress and holding yourself up. You can feel his thundering heart under your palm, beat matching your own pounding pulse. “Feel so good.”

“Wanna be. Wanna be for you.”

“You are. You always are. I could never want anything else, you know that right?” A tiny, barely there nod. “You make me feel so good. Always do.”

“Please.”

You know what he’s asking. You give it to him, slowly lifting yourself until you’ve almost pulled off him entirely. You drop back down hard, knocking the breath from your lungs as you spear yourself on him. It is intoxicatingly good, pleasure rippling outward like a stone dropped in a lake. You chase the feel, repeating the motion until you’re nearly mindless and out of breath.

“Shit,” you swear, laughing a little as your head drops down. You can’t focus on anything but rolling your hips, fucking yourself onto him as his hands grab your ass, not controlling you but gripping fiercely. “God damn fuck.”

Soonyoung laughs, deep and gravely as the cockiness you’re used to bleeds back in for a moment. “Yeah?”

You clench your cunt as you sink down on him, making him let out a high-pitched noise at the move and you grin. “Yeah,” you shoot back. “Thought so.”

A knot twists in your stomach as you set a smooth pace, thighs burning. Pleasure ribbons through you, twisting and turning, his hands dimpling your flesh. He lets you keep your pace at first, taking everything you give him, his feet planted flat on the mattress as he tries to contain himself, curses escaping between clenched teeth.

Your legs tremble. Your nails dig into the hard muscle of his chest. He senses your movements get a little strained, the pleasure making it harder to focus on lifting yourself. You feel his grip on your ass change, Soonyoung putting power behind it to help lift you up and pull you back down. He thrusts up to meet you, the wet squelch of his harder thrusts intoxicating.

“Fuck yeah,” you gasp, giving up the pretense of riding him and letting him take over. “Fuck me just like that.”

It’s all he needs before his grip turns iron and he’s fucking up into you with abandon. Your hand slips on his chest as the power of his thrusts knock you off balance. You let yourself crash together, chest against chest. Soonyoung wraps his arms around your back, holding you to him.

Your mouth finds his neck, burying your face in there as you try to steady your breathing. It feels like your heart might explode, his name falling from your lips as you press them against his neck. He mumbles something unintelligible, pace picking up.

“Shit,” you pant. “Shit shit shit shit - Soonyoung - shit.”

He huffs, something like laughter before his pace is brutal. He fucks you fast and deep, your mind blanking as you crest upward. All you can do is hold on to him, mouth panting against his throat, your muscles squeeze squeeze squeezing until you’re coming hard.

Everything goes blank. Your ears ring and you’re vaguely aware of his wild thrust as he chases his orgasm. You melt in his grip, letting him use you, completely boneless.

Soonyoung growls your name as he comes, pace slowing as he fucks you deep until he stills. You feel the stickiness between you and the way he’s still shaking. You rise and fall with his heavy breathing, both of your heartbeats erratic and thoughts staticky.

You lay there like that for a while, a pile of exhausted limbs and few thoughts. His arms loosen their grip around you and he starts rubbing his hands up and down your back. It draws you back into the moment more and you open your eyes to look up at him.

Soonyoung’s eyes are closed and his breathing is deep. You can tell he isn’t asleep, but rather enjoying the moment, his face tilted toward the window where the moon floats over the mountains. He looks so pretty like this, face soft and serene.

“You’re staring at me,” he murmurs, his voice low and spent. “You could at least tell me I’m pretty.”

“I just did. Several times.”

His mouth tilts upward but he doesn’t open his eyes. “I like hearing it.”

“Fine. You’re the prettiest boy.”

“Hmm. Yeah?”

“Yes. And I love you.”

“Say it again.” Soonyoung opens his eyes and they meet yours. They’re clearer now, and crinkled at the sides when he gives you a smile that feels far too innocent for the fluids running down your thighs and the way your cunt still clenches around him. “I like when you say it.”

“I love you.”

He smirks. “Just me?”

You lean up and nip his neck. He giggles, leaning away from you. “You. Always.”

He sighs. “Me,” he agrees. “Always.”

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ikeuki · 6 months ago

Text

and the world kept spinning ! / 니키

( pairing ) nishimura riki x fem!reader ✶ grumpy x sunshine ; fluff/crack, light cursing + one mention of a dealer/"product" — ( wordcount ) 1.3k

ᯓ★ ikeuki’s note. mr. nonchalant is not so nonchalant now…HE’S SELLING !!!

synopsis. after getting detention on picture day, riki swears he hates you—his actions do not follow his words however.

“i'm gonna dip at lunch.” jake decided and laid back.

“same i have a bio test during fifth that i'm not trying to do,” heeseung added and leaned on the classroom’s wall.

it was routine for the older boys to accompany riki in his class before the bell rang since they all had class without him. riki’s classmates refused to even look to the back of the room where the delinquents were sprawled out.

jake was trying to paper football with sunghoon, having his legs on some poor kid’s desk and flicking a triangle “football,” made out of that same kid’s notebook paper.

sunghoon was half-playing with jake and half-on his phone. his additions to the conversation were the occasional “mhm” and “yeah i'm down.”

jay was sitting in front of riki, turned around with his arms resting on the chair. he continued speaking to heeseung, who was by the window, about their plans to ditch.

“um since when do you take bio?” jake asked, repositioning his little football before flicking it across the desk, through sunghoon’s goal.

“since forever—just haven’t been to actual class yet,” heeseung answered with a laugh.

“so riki, you gonna ditch with us?” jay asked the younger boy who was carving random drawings on his desk with an overly sharpened pencil.

“uh i don't know...my mom's been on my ass since i ditched on monday, she got a call from the school or something,” riki mumbled, keeping his eyes on the smudged lead in front of him.

he was still upset at how the school dean reported riki leaving the school premises during picture day. everyone else was doing it and he just happened to be the only one who got caught. maybe if he wasn't so distracted that day...

“you’re joking—they still do that?” jake asked.

“apparently.” he recalled that day, when he was waiting in line to get his picture taken so he could slip out unnoticed. unfortunately, his long last name prevented him from leaving in the morning like the rest of his friends and was stuck in the stuffy gym for more than three hours.

he thought it was pretty unproductive. on the school’s part. the students would all line up then go to class once done. but since they can’t monitor each student leaving, they’re giving everyone a one way ticket out of class!

moments before his impatience was going to kill him, he was distracted by a vanilla-scented girl who would click her heels nonstop.

aka, you.

after your little interaction, riki swiftly exited the gym, but not before turning to watch you take your picture through the door's window. you smiled softly, teeth showing naturally with your lip gloss shining under the reflective screen.

you easily listened to his advice, his scoff turning into more of a subtle smile. his eyes followed your figure hop off the black stool and pick up your freshly printed student id.

"hey!" a voice called from down the hall.

riki whipped his head towards the sound to see a man walking towards him, "why aren't you in class!" oh shit, it was the dean.

thus, he got detention and the dean called his mom to tattletale his "ditching." he blamed it on you. if you hadn't clicked your stupid little heels, he would have never talked to you and then would have never stood there outside the gym, out in the open for any hall monitors (or deans...) to come and catch him.

now he had to bail on his friends and was in deep shit at home. all because of you and your stupid heels. and stupid curls. and stupid vanilla-scented perfume. whatever!

jay continued talking about their afterschool activities and heeseung shared that his dealer just shipped new product. uninterested in the conversation, riki turned his head to the window. his eyes drifted outside where students were rushing to class.

he skimmed through the various students he never cared to look twice at. until a familiar figure emerged from the hurried crowd.

wait—soft and shiny hair, little black heels, and the freshly pressed school uniform that never looked this good on any other student. riki knew that girl anywhere.

you were chatting away with your friends, too immersed in whatever you were saying to notice the steps by the front of the building. your mouth was moving at the same speed as your legs. failing to see the four steps ahead of you, your little black heels tripped on the first one.

riki instantly stood up. pushing back his chair and desk and watching as you fell forward. the loud movement from his desk attracted the attention of everyone in the class, turning to watch their silent, mysterious classmate become the star of the spotlight. riki didn’t even notice though, his eyes glued to your clumsy figure.

“dude—!” jake exclaimed at the sudden movement.

“what the fu—” jay moved back.

luckily (not for riki), class president and top student, yang jungwon managed to step forward just in time to catch you. the scene played out like one from a kdrama, him swiftly turning you on your back and making you lock eyes with your savior.

riki watched from across the courtyard, three stories above, and through the window as you two smiled at each other before you awkwardly got to your feet. he watched as you patted his shoulder and rambled an apology.

your cheeks were flushed, a little embarrassed and maybe a little blushing. riki hoped it was only the first.

hold up.

why would he care if you were blushing. blushing for that goody-two shoes yang jungwon—who all the teachers and students adored. whatever. you should’ve fallen on your face, riki would’ve liked that better…yeah he totally would’ve.

“what the hell man!” heeseung asked, gripping onto his shoulder to question his outburst.

snapping out of his trance, riki turned to his friend and finally realized that everyone was staring at him. he wasn’t used to such attention.

“o-oh..uhh it’s nothing—i thought—nothing nevermind.” riki stammered, embarrassed. he quickly took his seat again and kept his head down to avoid any awkward glances. the class slowly returned to their conversations, ignoring the boy’s questionable actions.

“what do you mean nothing...” sunghoon spoke up, furrowing his eyebrows.

before his friends could continue hounding him for an answer, the front door slid open with a loud slam! everyone turned their heads to the teacher walking into the class. upon spotting the four misplaced boys, his demeanor immediately turned sour.

“yah! you four—get to class!” the teacher shouted from the door, pointing to the obviously out-of-place seniors in a junior class.

startled but unmoved, the boys casually got to their feet and walked to the back door.

“im so sorry teach, we just love our riki so much!” jake fake apologized and bowed a whole ninety-degrees.

the other three began putting their hands together and bowing too, sarcastically muttering apologies to the teacher and the other students.

“GET OUT!”

“have fun learning algebra!” heeseung shouted with only his head peeking in from the back door. riki only laughed at his annoyingly loud friends as they ran out into the hallway.

as the teacher began class, he looked back out the window to see you long gone. instantly, he internally slapped his own face.

‘stop looking at the window, riki.’

‘why are you looking for her, riki.’

‘she likes jungwon, riki.’

‘STOP THINKING ABOUT HER, RIKI!’

riki kept his eyes shut and tried to calm his own crazy thoughts. he put his head down on his desk, ignoring whatever the teacher started blabbering about.

with the inviting warmth of the sunlight radiating through the window, he was slowly drifting to sleep when suddenly he heard the door open.

click. clack. click.

#ikeuki ⭑.ᐟ #ni ki x reader #enhypen #enha #enha fluff #niki x reader #enha imagines #enha x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen niki #enhypen x reader #niki nishimura #riki fluff #riki imagines #enhypen riki #nishimura riki #riki x reader #enhypen nishimura riki #nishimura niki x reader

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psformybss · 1 month ago

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hiii! i saw your post saying to send drew asks so i thought i would send one! feel free to not do this it's just an idea :) anyways my idea was angsty with a fluffy ending and drew and reader have been dating privately for about a year and hes been getting more distant lately, and you see a lot of paparazzi posts about him and odessa hanging out together and everyone online is shipping them because they are unaware of his gf. as drew pulls away more reader starts to really second guess their relationship and she breaks down one night when he says hes going out and then he apologizes and comforts her and then he hard launches their relationship :) dont worry if you dont want to do it!

Just Say Something

drew starkey x reader

warnings: angst, miscommunication, emotional breakdown, jealousy, secret relationship, comfort, fluff ending

an: hiii, i absolutely loved this idea! sorry it took me so long to post i had something like this written for my hidden vows series and couldn’t remember if i posted it or not (still not sure about it) but i decided to post this anyway because i loved it.

You always knew dating Drew wouldn’t be simple. Not in the everyday kind of way where you fight over what to watch on Netflix or argue about which coffee beans to buy. There was never going to be quiet normalcy. Not when his life moved under a spotlight that only seemed to get brighter.

But what you have—had—was yours. Quietly, privately, entirely yours.

Until it started to feel like maybe it wasn’t anymore.

It wasn’t one big thing. It was small things. The first time he didn’t call when he said he would. The unread messages. The short replies. The way he came home and kissed your cheek like a habit, not a choice.

You let it go. People get busy. People get tired.

But the distance didn’t fade. It grew, slow and steady, and it settled between you like fog—hard to see through, harder to name.

And then the pictures started.

You weren’t even looking for them. They just showed up. Pushed onto your feed, trending under his name. Drew and Odessa on a sidewalk in Silver Lake, coffees in hand, smiling at something only they could hear. Her hand on his arm. Him leaning in like no one else was there.

The next day, it was Melrose. Different clothes. Same closeness.

The comments were the worst part.

People shipping them like it was written in the stars. TikToks to soft indie music. Edits that made it look like they’d been together forever. Everyone falling for the idea of them. The chemistry. The “meant to be.”

Not one person asked who he might actually be with.

Not one mention of you.

And Drew? He didn’t bring it up. Didn’t joke about the headlines. Didn’t reassure you. He just walked through the door each night and acted like nothing had changed.

But it had.

It had changed, and you could feel it in the space between his hands and your waist, in the way he looked at you like he was somewhere else.

You tried to push it down. You really tried.

But the longer he stayed quiet, the louder the doubt got. It kept you up at night. It followed you through your days. And eventually, it started to sink into your bones like cold water.

The night it all broke, it was raining hard. One of those loud, relentless storms that makes the windows rattle and the air feel heavy. You were sitting on the edge of the bed in his hoodie, sleeves pulled down over your hands, staring at the floor like it might offer answers. Your phone was face-down on the nightstand. You already knew what was on it.

He walked in, already grabbing his jacket, keys clinking in his hand.

“I’m heading out,” he said without looking at you.

You blinked slowly. “Where?”

He shrugged. “Wes called. Might be some people out. I don’t know.”

You stood up before you even realized you were moving.

“Is Odessa gonna be there?”

He looked up then, finally meeting your eyes.

“I don’t know,” he said, voice tight. “Maybe.”

Your heart sank. Not because of the answer. But because he didn’t even flinch giving it.

“Do you know what it feels like,” you asked, each word quiet and sharp, “to watch the whole world think you’re with someone else while you act like I don’t even exist?”

He didn’t speak.

You swallowed around the lump in your throat, forcing the next words out before they dissolved.

“I see the pictures. Everyone does. I see how people talk about you two. I see how you let them.”

His brow furrowed. “You think I’m doing this on purpose?”

“I think you stopped choosing me a while ago,” you said, voice shaking now. “And I think I’ve been pretending not to notice because I didn’t want to lose you.”

Something in your chest cracked open, and it all came pouring out before you could stop it.

“I’m tired, Drew. I’m tired of feeling like I’m the only one who remembers what we have. You don’t tell me what’s going on anymore. You come home late and kiss my forehead like a chore. You don’t look at me like you used to.”

His face softened, the edges of his frustration fading. He opened his mouth, but you kept going.

“I’ve been holding it together, trying not to seem insecure, trying not to ask for too much. But this? This is killing me.”

The tears came fast after that. No slow build. Just a sudden wave you couldn’t stop.

“I’m not some secret you keep in your back pocket,” you whispered. “I’m not a placeholder.”

He stepped forward, then hesitated, his hand hovering just above your arm. “Hey. Look at me.”

You didn’t want to. But you did.

His eyes were glassy. His voice dropped.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was making you feel like this.”

You pulled back a little. “Then what were you doing?”

He rubbed a hand over his jaw, exhaling slowly.

“I thought I was protecting us. Keeping you away from all of… this. The noise. The press. The comments. I wanted us to stay ours.”

You shook your head. “But you didn’t protect anything. You just left me out in the cold.”

He stepped closer again, slower this time, and when you didn’t move away, he reached for your face. His fingers were gentle, tentative, like he wasn’t sure you’d let him touch you anymore.

“I got scared,” he said quietly. “Scared that if I showed the world what we have, they’d ruin it. They’d pick it apart. I’ve seen it happen. But I didn’t see what it was doing to you. That’s on me.”

You closed your eyes. The storm outside felt like it had moved into your chest.

“I don’t care about their opinions. I just care about you being honest with me.”

“I know,” he whispered. “I’ve been a coward. I thought I could keep you safe by hiding us, but that just made you feel invisible. And I hate that I did that to you.”

You opened your eyes. “So now what?”

He was so close you could feel his breath against your skin. He didn’t hesitate this time. His hands framed your face, steady and warm.

“Now I show up,” he said. “Now I stop hiding.”

And then he kissed you.

Not to fix it. Not to shut you up.

It was slow and full of everything he hadn’t said until now. His fingers slid into your hair. Your hands curled into the front of his shirt. The kiss wasn’t perfect. It was messy and wet with the salt of your tears, and it hurt a little, in the way healing does.

When he pulled back, his forehead pressed to yours, neither of you spoke. You just stood there, breathing each other in, letting the silence fill with something softer.

That night, you fell asleep in his arms. His chest was warm against your back, and his hand stayed wrapped around yours like a promise he wouldn’t let go.

You didn’t talk about what came next. You just let yourself rest.

Two mornings later, you wake up to your phone buzzing off the nightstand.

Drew’s already up, standing by the kitchen window in an old shirt, coffee mug in hand. He looks calm. Steady. Like the man you fell for.

“Morning,” he says when he sees you, soft and simple.

“Why is my phone exploding?”

He smiles, a little sheepishly.

You unlock it, scroll instinctively to Instagram, and freeze.

It’s the two of you. A blurry photo, definitely from his phone. You’re tugging him down mid-laugh, half cut off by the frame, hoodie sleeve bunched around your fist where it clutches his shirt. He’s looking at you like you hung the damn stars.

Caption:

Not my co-star. My whole world.

You’re tagged.

You sit down slowly on the couch, phone still in your hand.

“You okay?” he asks.

You look up at him. “You posted this?”

“I meant what I said. I’m done hiding.”

The notification count is ridiculous. Your DMs are a mess. You don’t even want to look at Twitter.

But you don’t care.

Because he’s looking at you the way he used to. The way he always should have. And he didn’t just say it this time. He meant it.

You set your phone down and cross the room to him. He sets his mug aside as you wrap your arms around his waist and rest your cheek against his chest. His arms fold around you like they were always meant to.

“I love you,” he says, quiet against your hair.

You close your eyes.

“I love you too.”

And for the first time in a long time, it feels safe to say it.

#drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x oc #drew starkey angst #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey one shot #drew starkey #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey obx #drew starkey outer banks #drew starkey blurb #drew starkey fic #obx

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livvymd · 3 months ago

Text

Watching Him on Inside (Part 2).

You should’ve put your phone down.

Really.

But instead, you were still scrolling, still reading through tweet after tweet, as if you were trying to torture yourself.

— "Their chemistry is so good, are we sure they’re not secretly dating??" — "George is so different when he’s with her. They have something. I just KNOW it." — "Not to be dramatic, but I would die for them."

You groaned, flopping back against the couch.

This was ridiculous.

George was your boyfriend. Not hers. Not the Internet’s. Yours.

And yet, somehow, Twitter had collectively decided that they were soulmates.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. You weren’t jealous. You knew George. You trusted him. He’d even joked about this before leaving, telling you, "If I get a weird ‘ship name’ on Twitter, just remember: I only fancy one person, and she’s sitting right next to me eating half my chips."

And yet—

Your stomach twisted as you watched the screen.

Because there he was again—sitting with her, separate from the chaos, talking, laughing, nudging her with his knee.

You knew that laugh.

You knew that look.

And clearly, so did everyone else.

"Why am I doing this to myself?" you muttered, finally putting your phone down.

But just as you did—

A new confessional popped up on-screen.

George.

His stupid, cheeky smirk aimed right at the camera.

"So apparently people think I fancy her," he said, completely unbothered. "I’ve seen the tweets. Very flattering. Wrong, but flattering."

You froze.

"She’s great," he continued. "We get on really well. But yeah, nah—" He glanced off-camera, grinning. "There’s only one girl I fancy. And she’s probably watching this right now, getting very annoyed at the internet."

Your heart stopped.

Then—

A jump cut to him sitting on the couch, scrolling his phone.

"If you’re reading the tweets, babe, put the phone down," he said, smirking. "You’re not gonna like them."

Your mouth fell open.

The show knew.

They’d edited that in on purpose.

And suddenly, your timeline was exploding.

— "WAIT WAIT WAIT—GEORGE HAS A GF??" — "Not me thinking I had a chance and he’s been taken this whole time 💀" — "Imagine being his gf watching this LMAO she must be FUMING." — "WHO IS SHE. SHOW YOURSELF, QUEEN."

You stared at the screen.

Then at your phone.

Then back at the screen.

And finally—after a long moment—you burst out laughing.

Because of course George had done that.

Of course he knew you’d be fuming.

And of course, because he was him, he had to wind you up about it.

You were going to kill him when he got home.

But first—

You grabbed your phone and texted him.

[You’re the worst.]

A few minutes later, your phone buzzed.

[I know. Love you. ]

#george clarke x reader #george clarke #george #clarke #fanfic #fluff #angst #headcannons #smut #arthur tv x reader #arthur hill #arthur frederick #chrismd #arthurtv #george clarkey

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universefcb · 27 days ago

Note

Heyy can you do Pau Cubarsí x reader where she like gets shipped with Hector by the fans and he can’t stand it anymore so he takes the matter in his own hands. Let it be like all fluffy & funny xx 💋

JEALOUS BOY PAU CUBARSÍ.

→ Warning: no.

→ Author's note: Why does he seem to be more beautiful every day?

→ And sorry if there are mistakes, English is not my language.I hope this is what you asked for!

Pau was never the dramatic type. He liked the simple things: waking up early, having his coffee with toast, training with headphones on full volume and spending the afternoon watching stupid videos with you. He was calm, observant and even a little quiet compared to the others on the team.

But even calm people have limits.

And Pau Cubarsí's limit had a name, a surname and an entire fandom rooting against their relationship: Héctor Fort.

You and Héctor had been best friends since before Pau met you—and he accepted that. He even liked how you got along so effortlessly, exchanged inside jokes, and had that whole 'loud duo' vibe. The problem was, the world liked it too. Too much.

All you had to do was open any social network and there it was:

— Guys, Héctor’s look at her doesn’t lie.

— They are so compatible, look at that chemistry.

— If I’m not going to have a best friend like that, I don’t even want one.

— Sorry Pau, but you lost, love.

— The stick there, watching… sad.

Sad? SAD?

Pau swallowed the comments with the same energy as someone drinking sour juice. Pretending he didn't see. Pretending he didn't care. Pretending he didn't want to throw his cell phone at the wall.

The worst part was when someone edited a video with the three of you: you between Pau and Héctor, but all the romantic scenes were of you with Fort. The video ended with: “She chose the right one. #HectaderEndGame”.

That didn't work out. Because the next day, Pau showed up at training looking grumpy. Focused, silent, and, according to his teammates, in danger of exploding.

“What happened to him?” Héctor asked, as they stretched.

“Maybe the fandom calling you his girlfriend’s prince charming has finally gone to his head,” laughed Gavi.

“What an exaggeration,” Héctor muttered, but clearly enjoying the attention.

Pau snorted, jaw clenched.

Later, you arrived at the training center to pick up Pau — as you sometimes did — and found him sitting with his head down, playing with his cell phone. When he saw you, his serious expression softened a little. But the tension was still there.

“Hi, Mi hermoso chico ,” you said, throwing your bag on the bench and leaning in to kiss him. (My beautiful boy)

He pulled you into his arms with ease, completely ignoring the fact that they were in a public space.

“Can I post something?” he asked, his eyes fixed on hers.

“Post what?”

“A picture of us. Like... really together.”

You blinked.

“Out of nowhere?”

“It’s not out of nowhere,” he grumbled, his fingers tightening around her waist. “It’s a survival strategy. If I see one more montage of you and Héctor, I swear I’ll go into hibernation. Or freak out. Or both.”

You burst out laughing.

“Dude… are you jealous of the internet?”

“Not from the internet. His. And worse: he loves it.”

You kissed his cheek and picked up your phone.

“So let’s give the audience what they don’t expect.”

Two hours later, Pau posted a photo. It wasn't just any photo.

You on his lap, with your legs crossed around his waist, your faces close together. He's smiling a little, with that air of 'I'm shy, but I own the world when I'm with her'. The caption?

'She's mine. And no, this is not fiction. #SorryHéctor'

You couldn't stop laughing the rest of the night. Especially since the internet went down.

@user1: THE STICK CAME WITH HEAVY WEAPONRY AAAAAA

@user2: HÉCTOR FAINTED LIVE

@user3: #Héctaders fell, #PauComOrgulho was born

And to complete the chaos, Pau even posted on his stories:

To Héctader’s fans, I’m sorry. In the next life, maybe.

with a selfie of you sleeping on his shoulder, with the caption 'peace has returned'

But the best was yet to come.

The next day, Héctor showed up at your house with a bag of cheese bread and an indignant look on his face.

“I’ve been attacked, Cubarsí. My notifications keep calling me a homewrecker!”

“Well done,” Pau replied dryly as he sipped his coffee.

You were on the couch, watching the two of them like a reality show.

“You guys are ridiculous, you know that?”

“Ridiculously beautiful,” Pau said, pulling you by the arm and placing you on his lap.

Hector grimaced.

“Okay, I deserved that one.”

And so, the world met the real couple of the story.

Héctor had to endure weeks of jokes about being the 'imaginary ex', but deep down, he found it all hilarious. Pau, on the other hand, was more relaxed. Still jealous, of course. But now with his chest full of pride.

And you?

You had the two funniest and craziest men in Spain as part of your life. But only one of them would kiss your forehead before going to sleep and say, softly:

“If you want, I'll post a picture every day. Just to make sure no one doubts that you're mine.”

And the truth is, you really didn't doubt it.

Taglist: @paucubarsisimp @nngkay @meganesanchez @htpssgavi @merinott @luvvpedri @moonvr @joaosnovia @httpsdana @ilovebarcaaaa @p4uul0vr @pedricando @barcapix @owala6789

#barcelonafanfic #fc barcelona #universefcb #football imagine #football x y/n #football x reader #football x oc #pau cubarsi imagine #football #pau cubarsi #pau cubarsí imagine #pau cubarsi x reader #pau cubarsí #pau cubarsi x femeni!reader #pau cubarsí x reader

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mephistostwin · 15 days ago

Text

Away from Him

SYLUS X NON-MC! READER

Part 2 Part 3

Reminders:

I do not own the characters, this is simply a story that I made up inside my head.

The plot and story line does not follow the events in the game.

MC, Sylus, and other characters' personality and behavior here are not the same as what's in the game.

I'm a first-time writer so please be understanding with the wrong grammars and misspelled words.

Expect that I probably did not use tumblr correctly because this is the first time that I will post an au here.

If this is not your type of story, please scroll up and ignore this post.

Some scenes that are like the scenes from other works are pure coincidence. I never intended to copy anyone's hard work and this is based on my imaginations alone.

Open for constructive criticism but be mindful of your words.

Description:

You are Sylus' best friend for 10 years. You already saw the versions of him that no one had ever got a chance to know or see. For the past years that you had been with him, your feelings for him grew and you thought that someday, you will become more than friends. Until something or someone appeared.

Everything were all going well for the past years and months—until she showed up. You tried faking your reactions whenever you see them together. At first, you really did a great job at hiding your thoughts into playful and teasing manner. You shipped them and acted like you really love to see them being clingy to each other— but MC was not having it.

MC looked sweet and kind at first. She will constantly hug you and give you compliments. Because of her treatment towards you, you almost accepted the situation and move on so they can enjoy their time without a jealous eye piercing at their souls.

But it all changed one day when Sylus and MC finally announced that they are an official couple after five months of fixing their connection. You really never minded it and you started to hurt your own feelings and ego so you can be able to heal. To your surprise, MC's behavior changed. She became evil, possessive, hateful— every bad attitude, you name it.

She started pulling Sylus away from you and she will make it obvious that she does not like when he's around you. You normalized it when it first happened because you understand that no woman will like when their man is around other girls—but she tried to make you envious.

She will pull Sylus for a kiss or sit in his lap around you on purpose. She will look into your eyes and smirk as she do almost inappropriate things to or with Sylus in front of you. There are also times when she will confront you alone and shove it in your face that Sylus will never like or will never be with you because they are tied to a bond in every lifetime.

It is hard for you to avoid them both because you are Sylus' secretary. You arrange his meetings and some paper works and it is impossible to not cross paths with them. Of course, MC is always following him like a shadow. She will throw dirty looks at you when you go inside Sylus' office because of work purposes.

You wanted to tell Sylus about MC's behaviour because after all, you are still the best friend that he used to defend from any bad people. But you refrained yourself because you do not want them to fight over you and eventually ruin the connection that they built— already built in every lifetime.

But even Sylus has changed. He will give you extra works on purpose and it is obvious that the two of them planned it. He also became harsh and offensive when he talks to you. You tried taking his insults as a joke but you can't because it is clear that he meant to say it to hurt your feelings.

Today is nothing different. You are walking towards his office to hand over all the important papers that you have finished for the day. After you give this to him, you will head home and probably cry to sleep for the night. That became your routine for the past five months and fortunately, you can sometimes sleep without crying due to exhaustion. But most of the time, you will have a breakdown even if your body begs you for some rest.

As usual, Sylus is on his desk and typing in his laptop. His desk is clean and there is almost no papers because he passed some of his job to you because he had an urgent meeting with some of his business partners. MC is sitting in the chair in front of his desk. She's focused on spending Sylus' infinite money on online shopping.

It took less than a second for them to notice you as you entered the room. MC's eye roll and arched brow never missed your vision but you did not mind it, you are already immune to it. However, Sylus' nonchalant expression and eyes still hurt you. It's like someone is gripping at your heart tightly and wants to crush it under their palms. Sylus never looked at you like that long before MC came. Your Sylus was not like that.

“Here are the paper works that you gave to me earlier. I also have set all your meetings for this week. So far, there's no problem and adjustments to your appointments.”

You said like the usual times. The difference is just the tone is now more formal like you are a stranger working for a man that is hard to please or impress with normal work and conversation.

“Right... the only problem in the company is you...” MC murmured but she obviously wants you to hear it. She gave you a fake smile and a stare that holds grudges for no reason. You brushed it off and ignored the anger and pain that is building inside your chest.

“If there is nothing that you want me to do, I'll head home now.” You said with a slight and forced smile. Sylus looked up to you and brushed his hair. He smirked at you like he wants to fill your system up with anxiety.

“I want you to resign...” You were already expecting that he will say this because he always joke about this everytime that you are in his office while MC is also there. You gave him a nod and a smile like what he said was nothing serious.

“Is there anything else that you want?” You slightly tilt your head. He shaked his head and smiled— not to you, but to MC.

“Now, please leave us alone and leave. Wouldn't want my kitten to be distracted by some... dramatic person.” He said it like it's casual and not something that can hurt your feelings. You were already used to his new behavior towards you but everything that slips from his mouth never failed to shoot daggers to your already-fragile heart.

You gave them a faint smile and turned away from them and walked towards the door. You closed the door as you went outside his office but the pain that is throbbing in your chest made you grip the handle of the door.

You cleaned up your desk and put all your belongings inside your bag. You are planning to do his last request. Just as when you are heading out of the building, you saw the twins— Luke and Kieran— walking towards you.

“Hey... you brought out more bags than usual... don't tell us that you're finally leaving us all alone?” Kieran said, disappointment is evident in his tone. You smiled at them but pain is still showing in your eyes.

“As a loyal employee and a friend, I have to fulfill my boss’ last request...” You said with a kidding tone but the twins are obviously not happy about it.

“Don’t leave us with that girl... She's clearly fake. We wouldn't want to be around her suffocating energy instead of your warm presence.” Luke begged while caressing your hands that are gripping your bags.

But your decision is now final and you are willing to stand firm for it. You comforted the twins and you told them that they are going to be fine because you guys will still contact each other. You bid all your goodbyes with a lot of hugs and tearing up like you are gonna be separated from them forever.

You walked to your car and drive to your home. Each place that you pass reminds you of the memories of you and Sylus together that you should forget because he already belong to someone else— even before you came.

When you got back home, you started your night routine even if your body feels like it will collapse because of the pain and exhaustion that you are holding for such a long time. After your routine, you head straight towards your desk to fix your resignation letter.

Every letter and word that you type adds a heavy feeling that makes you sick. Your past self would never imagine that your bond with Sylus will end this way.

You stayed up all night because of fixing your resignation letter and booking a plane ticket to Linkon city. You also found an expensive apartment there and it already have all furnitures and essential things. Fortunately, you still have your card that Sylus gave you as gift for your birthday last year. You were too shy to spend it because you already save up tons of money because of your high salary but you never knew until now that it will be useful for you this time.

You get to sleep for 2 hours after packing all your things. Your alarm went off at 8:00 am and you had no choice but to wake up and get ready. Your flight is at 11:00 am and you still have almost 4 hours to prepare yourself.

After you prepared, you placed all your bags inside your car. You drove off to a near restaurant to have your breakfast and to buy a takeout lunch for later.

Just as when you are about to drive to the airport, you remembered that you did not prepare the requirements for your car to be transported to Linkon city. “Fuck, why am I being so unfortunate now? argh, I'm so dumb for forgetting my car...”. You curse yourself until you suddenly remembered a memory.

“Hey, don't curse yourself. You're too precious for that, sweetheart. It's not your fault.”

His voice and his memory rang into your mind. You did not instantly notice the hot tears slowly running down your cheek. You were not the type of person that swears on others but you can't help it. “You’re such an asshole, motherfucker.” You say as you wipe your tears.

Finally, you arrive at the airport. You decided to just book a ticket for your car to be transported to linkon even if it will take a lot of days to have your car again. You definitely had no choice.

“This is what you get when you suddenly act on something without a lot of time for preparation...” You murmured to yourself as you finished your transaction about your car at the lobby.

-Timeskip-

After hours in the air, you finally landed in Linkon city. The warm sunlight and comforting air greeted you. For a moment, you felt a relieving presence in your surroundings.

Away from trouble... Away from him.

You had to book an uber to get to your apartment. “If only I prepared the requirements for my car earlier...” you sighed in disappointment.

After you arrived in your apartment, you slipped into your comfortable casual clothes. You tried to stay awake but your lack of sleep pulled you into the darkness as you relax yourself on the comfortable couch.

You woke up to be greeted by the dark sky and shining moon that you can see outside in your balcony. You checked the time and it is already 6:45 pm. You forced yourself to stand and make your appearance more presentable. You are going to a nearby coffee shop that you saw earlier and you hope that they are still open.

After getting ready, you head out and walked a not-so-long distance from your apartment. The coffee shop is just five buildings away from the building of your apartment.

You are happy that you manage to come inside the coffee shop because they are still open until 10 pm. You ordered your favorite drink and snack. All of it taste delicious and kind of boost your mood. Your table is in front of the glass wall and you enjoyed the view of the towering buildings and cars passing by.

You were happily eating your meal until someone spoke beside you, startling you and almost made your snack slip out of your hands. “Can I sit here with you?”

“Ow, sorry for shocking you...” A man with a purple hair smiled at you. You gave him back a smile. The one that is not forced but genuine. You don't know why but his presence carry an unknown feeling that soothes your worries. But you won't admit it because of course, you just met him tonight in less than an hour— less than a minute, rather.

You gave him a hesitant nod and adjusted your position so he can comfortably sit beside you.

“I never saw you here in this area before... are you a new resident?” He asks as he sips his drink.

“Yeah... I actually just came earlier and I happen to see this café on my way here and thought that maybe I can give it a try.” You smiled as you looked down on your lap. You are shy to talk to someone else about your day because you are used to yapping to the twins or him.

“Oh, that's really nice! I can recommend you a lot of amazing places that are near here.” He giggled. His cute gestures while talking makes you want to pinch his cheeks.

You guys talked until both of you finished your meal. You really enjoyed the stories that he told you— or maybe, you just like the excitement in his eyes as he talks about things that you cannot relate to.

“Where do you live? I'll accompany you to make sure that you get back home safely.” He said as he looks down on you. You are a lot smaller than him and it makes you embarrassed but you hide it.

“I live in that building— just five buildings away from here.” You pointed.

“What a coincidence! I also live there!” He excitedly said as he chuckled. “Which floor is your apartment in?” he asked.

“Fifth floor, apartment 502” you shortly replied, sleepiness evident from your eyes and tone.

You guys talked again as you both walked towards the building. He never ran out of stories and it is also convenient for you because it helps you to stay awake as you both walk.

You both reached the door of your apartment. You turned and looked at him to say thank you and good night.

“Thank you... I never really asked for your name after all that yapping we did.” You both laughed.

“I’m Rafayel, by the way. And also, I live here in 501— In front of your apartment... hehe...” he massaged the back of his neck as he let out an awkward and shy chuckle.

“That’s nice to know! But you're full of secrets huh..” you teased him and he smiled.

“My apologies...” he hesitated to continue his words because he also does not know your name yet.

“Y/N... My name is Y/N.”

“Yeah, Y/N. What a lovely name.” You smiled at his compliment and lightly pinched his arm while giggling.

“Uhh before I forgot, here's my contact number. I'm literally living just in front of your home but I rarely come out because I usually paint or I'm not home because of something... Maybe you can call me when you need help.” He handed you his phone so you can type his contact number on yours. You also typed your contact number in his phone so he can also call you when he needs help.

“It’s nice to meet you, Raf! But I really need to rest now, my body is screaming for some sleep.” You warmingly smiled at him and he blushed because of your smile and the nickname that you gave him.

“Take a rest now, Y/N. I'll see you again tomorrow. Bye!”

You wave your goodbyes to each other as you faced the opposite side of the hallway to go inside both of your own apartments.

You did your night routine. You put layers of layers of skin care and body care in the bathroom and it made you sigh in relief. You felt clean and it makes you happy.

After your pampering routine, you head to the bedroom to get some rest for the night. You jumped on top of the soft bed and hugged your pillows as you pulled the blanket towards your fragile body.

You are so sleepy but you still managed to stare at the ceiling and rethink all the things that happened even when your heart begs you to stop hurting yourself. It is painful but you can't help to get your mind away from the thoughts about it. It is like your mind is not your own, but his.

But out of all the painful memories that you reminisced about, you still smiled at the thought of having a new friend and life in a new city. Maybe, just maybe, you can start a new life without him. Away from the memories of him.

You are so drawn on the memories of the past and what could have been if MC never returned. A part of you wants to free yourself from his life but a part of you also wants to come back and make him realize that you are the one that stayed with him in this lifetime.

But you do not stand a chance with fate.

You remembered the things that MC told you that made your heart ache. “We’re tied by fate, while you? oh, you're nothing but his little secretary for years... and you will stay in that place while you watch us be connected and build our future family...”.

She was aware...

She was fucking aware of the feelings that you have for Sylus that you buried just for the sake of their bond. Her evil character that was disguised before really makes you amused.

You begged your mind to stop replaying the evil things that she said. You pulled your hair and curled up into a ball. Your tears run in your cheeks as your heart tightens. Tugging your shirt did not help and it makes you more miserable.

You love him but your mind tells you to hate him for throwing away everything that you did just for his bond with MC. You hate the way that he picked the months that he is with MC than the years that you stayed for him, no matter what the situation is.

Darkness slowly took over you as your chest became more tighter, making it hard for you to breath. The pain is suffocating you but you can't do anything about it. After all, he is still the medicine for the pain that he also caused.

You felt your eye lids becoming more and more harder to keep open until you decided to let the darkness completely consume you.

“I don't know what will happen to me but I know that I wouldn't want to see you in the moment that I wake up.” You said as you slowly closed your eyes, still crying because of the pain.

“I love you Sylus... but I'm slowly starting to hate you...”

(Note: Idk if this will reach a lot of readers and I don't know if I should do a part 2 hehe)

#love and deepspace sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x mc #lads rafayel #angst #heavy angst #love and deepspace #fanfic #rafayel x reader #luke and kieran #n109 zone #onychinus #no comfort #sylus au #rafayel au #rafayel love and deepspace

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