#i know that im like... a few weeks? late? but that never mattered to me before so :p

[mintghostko]

i've seen a few artists do this and it seems fun so i might try it out too :) not quite sure of what people would consider my art style traits to be though so if anyone wants to help out that'd be great (⁠^⁠～⁠^⁠;⁠)⁠ゞ

[myriadsystem]

.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

you’re an angel, i’m a dog ; satoru gojo

synopsis; an upcoming exam has been stressing you out, and satoru’s pleas for you to take care of yourself fall on deaf ears. he takes matters into his own hands.

word count; 4.3k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, yan!gojo, as far as yanderes go he’s very mild i think (im sensitive u can trust me!!), mentions of blood, implied murder (not depicted!!), he threatens your professor w a knife lol, surprisingly fluffy??, gojo is soooo lovesick & smitten, he just wants his baby to live a happy life :( is that so wrong :((, also your parents love him <33 and he calls you honey <333 ideal man.

a/n; i blacked out & when i woke up this was in my drafts… mysterious. @kissxcore here u go alexis <33 one very smitten morally gray yan!gojo just for u!! i completely lost the plot halfway through but i had a lot of fun writing this!! :33 i don’t dabble in yan content at all so it was a fun lil challenge hehe, i hope it ended up . Somewhat .. decent…

satoru thinks you deserve everything good.

”haah…”

— the sigh spills into the air, dripping with exhaustion, a palpable fatigue that has his heart clenching.

just as he feared, you’re here. again. seated on the couch, in the living room, legs crossed and framed by flimsy strings of moonlight; illuminated only by the dim light of the laptop in front of you. carding through your hair, blinking sluggishly.

another sigh. deep, exasperated — from satoru, this time. he keeps a single hand on his hip, brows furrowed in soft disappointment. 

”honey… what do you think you’re doing?”

you jolt, the sudden sound breaking you out of whatever trance you were previously in. when your gaze flits to his, craning your head to see him rest against the wall leading up to your bedroom, he thinks you look a little like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

it makes him smile. despite his disapproval.

”ah — satoru! it’s… um.” a moment passes. he can practically see the gears of your mind turning, searching for a good excuse. ”… not what it looks like?”

he clicks his tongue. ”nice try.”

then he’s walking towards you, in long strides, gliding across the room like a butterfly in search of nectar. from the sweetest flower there ever was.

even when said flower is still awake, past midnight, pulling an all-nighter despite his frequent advice not to. his very frequent, very thoughtful advice not to strain yourself until you just about pass out.

but you just won’t listen.

”’m disappointed in you, baby,” he huffs, just playful enough to ward off any genuine feelings of distress. he could never truly be disappointed in his baby. ”what did we say about studying this late, hm?”

a sheepish chuckle slips past your lips. satoru is standing in front of you, hands on his hips, raising a questioning eyebrow as you squirm. lighthearted, yes, but genuine. it makes you feel a little guilty.

”… sorry,” you breathe, closing the lid of your laptop. knowing he won’t let you stay up any longer. with the loss of light, your face becomes shrouded in darkness. ”just can’t sleep when i’m so stressed.”

at that, satoru makes a tiny noise — something worried, a little sad, from the base of his throat. a soft frown finds its way onto his lips, and he blinks the sleep away from his senses. plopping down beside you.

”i know. i’m not trying to lecture you,” he croons, reaching out to cradle the apple of your cheek. you melt into him like molten honey, easy and sweet. ”just worried. know you’re stressed.”

and he does. he does know — it’s all he’s been able to think about, these past few weeks. to his dismay, he’s even begun to grow used to this sight, used to finding you in the midst of working yourself to exhaustion. fighting the urge to sleep, slumped over your desk, or cooped up on the couch. staring into your laptop like it holds the secrets of the universe.

time and time again, he’s told you to take care of yourself. tried to coax you into relaxing, rubbing your sore shoulders and kissing the puffy skin beneath your eyes. but this exam is important — you’ve told him as much, more times than he can count. he doesn’t doubt that you’re right. 

of course you’d be stressed. he gets it.

still, though.

”but you know it’s not good, yeah? that it’ll just burn you out?” his thumb goes to smooth over the dark crescents beneath your eyes, gentle as a feather. ”we don’t want that, do we?”

you bite your lip. trapping it between your teeth. he knows you know. ”… yeah,” you admit, a flimsy little sigh on your tongue. ”it just feels easier to do this at night. don’t know why.”

”my little night owl.”

that makes you smile, a little, but it’s not enough to satisfy him. he curls an arm around your waist, and drags you into his lap; gentle, always gentle, like all that exists under your skin is made of porcelain. like the lines of your face form a string of words, a label of fragile: handle with care. he always does.

with his heartbeat by your ear, his warmth melting into yours, it’s easier to speak. a pressure on your chest that fades away. ”i’ll try not to do it again,” you murmur, biting back a soft yawn. nuzzling into his neck. ”promise. don’t wanna worry you…”

satoru softens. 

(always so good to him.)

”it’s fine, honey. i understand.” he smiles, smoothing down your spine, counting the bumps of vertebra that slide along his palm. ”don’t worry that pretty little head of yours over me, alright?”

in return for his comfort, you wriggle away, lifting your head to give him a smile. one of your many smiles, each one fervently cherished by him; the one you’re wearing now is tired, a soft curl of your lips, the kind that makes him want to lull you to sleep. just the sight alone makes the anxiety in his veins feel like a worthy investment.

he doesn’t tell you anything that could cause that joy to diminish. doesn’t tell you that he can’t sleep without you, that he can barely breathe knowing you’re this stressed all time. doesn’t tell you that he jolted awake with a sinking feeling of dread, a gaping pit in his stomach when he didn’t immediately feel the warmth of your skin against his. doesn’t tell you that he always, always assumes the worst.

satoru doesn’t tell you these things. it’s a safety measure, an act of love. a bundle of unvoiced syllables, woven into white lies, silky and sweet. tailor-made to put your aching mind at ease. 

satoru thinks you deserve everything good.

it’s a theory, of sorts, a train of thought. a hypothesis made manifest. after many years of pondering, he’s arrived at the following conclusion; you are all that’s good. therefore, it only follows that you deserve everything that’s good, all of it and more. satoru believes you deserve every single thing your little heart desires — and he’s determined to give it to you.

so he’s been worried.

it’s not that he doesn’t trust you. he knows you’ll ace the exam, knows you’ll do your very best, knows you’ll make him proud. you always do. you aren’t the problem, no, never.

he just doesn’t trust your professor. 

that unfair, stuck-up, incompetent professor who’d fail his students just for being a couple minutes late, who curates his exams to be as convoluted as humanly possible. you and your friends are starting to suspect he just likes berating people for a living. satoru knows it all, he’s heard it all, of course he has. satoru pays attention to everything, when it comes to you. he knows all about your professor, the man who’s been making your studies pure hell for the past semester.

it makes his blood boil. steady, ruminating, hot and heavy in his veins. a rivulet of lava.

(it was only a matter of time.)

satoru is a teacher too; he knows that type. one that has no business being a teacher, in the first place, one no student deserves to be subjected to. he’s met more of them in his career than he could even begin to count. the thought of one of his own students being at the mercy of someone so incompetent makes his skin itch.

and the thought of you, seated on the couch, crying and sniffling when he comes home because none of the exam questions made enough sense for you to even try —

it makes satoru want to claw his skin off.

it makes that tiny, tiny cavern in his heart extend, widen, like a maw, swallowing up his liver and lungs and sense of morality. an emptiness begging to be filled. 

there’s only one way to satiate it.

so he plants a wet kiss on your forehead, ruffles your hair, tucks you into bed and waits until you fall asleep. deep and heavy, a slumber you won’t wake up from anytime soon. he presses his lips to your forehead one more time — for good measure.

then he grabs his coat and slips outside.

the moon is visible through the window.

a thin crescent, nailed next to the dim stars, leaking a dream-like fluorescent shine; illuminating the office, so quiet he can hear those erratic breaths spill out, one by one. a heavy, heavy silence, thick enough to spread like butter over toast. 

(ah, that’s right — he forgot to buy the butter you asked for this morning. no wonder he feels so out of sorts. he’ll have to grab it on his way back.)

”who… w — what are — ?”

satoru stays silent. lips pursed, eyes keen, burning into the back of the man in front of him. close, almost chest to back, enough to have him scowling in displeasure. 

just being in his presence makes satoru feel a little sick. 

he keeps the blade pressed right beneath his adam’s apple, a silver glimmer in an office painted blue and gray. not enough to sink into his skin, but enough to have his heartbeat hammering, enough that satoru can practically feel those rapid flutters of life. brushing against his gloved hand.

he gets straight to the point. voice muffled by the fabric covering his mouth, low enough that it’s barely even audible. he’s careful, about this kind of thing. there’s a delicacy to the ill intent, something he’d be a little enamored with if it weren’t for the compass stuffed into his ribs — the compass that tells him this is wrong.

he just can’t bring himself to care.

”the upcoming exam.” his voice sends a shiver down the man’s spine. satoru can feel it. ”don’t fail a single student.”

silence. pure silence, suffocating them, tangling itself into the air. satoru can practically taste it — fear, familiar, that pang of panic. a ticking time-bomb. the knife stays pressed against warm skin, pushing, sinking, just a little, a drop of red against his pale throat. 

it’s enough to get your professor to make a little noise, one that vaguely resembles a whine. like that of a small animal, rolling over on its belly, eager to play dead. no word is spoken in reply, but he nods, just barely, a nervous tremble of his head.

satoru hums, approving. ”good.” he doesn’t loosen his grip. ”there’s a particular student i’m worried about. marked them down in the catalogue... i’m counting on you.”

another noise. a grunt of affirmation, a silent plea — satoru allows that fear to seep into his own bones, just a little, just to get a taste of it. cold on his tongue. he wonders if this is what helplessness feels like.

then he takes a step back. slow, tentative, dragging the knife with him. not before parting his lips once more. ”don’t turn around,” he warns. ”i’ll be back if there are any complications. this’ll be our little secret, hm?”

the man in front of him doesn’t say a thing. frozen in fear, paralyzed, not moving an inch. a fly trapped in his web. it’s a relief.

before he exits the room, satoru puts the final nail in the coffin. just in case. ”i happen to know what school your daughter goes to.” he waits for a flinch, and it comes almost instantly. like clockwork. “remember that.”

it’s an empty threat. your professor doesn’t know that, though. he doesn’t know that satoru knows his daughter, that he walks past her preschool almost every morning on his way to work. that she waves to him whenever he passes by, and that he makes it a point to always wave back. a little troublemaker; the rowdiest of utahime’s preschoolers. she has a bubbly laugh, and just lost one of her milk teeth. she was giddy when she showed him, a bout of giggles spilling from her lips as he cooed and ruffled her hair. 

he wouldn’t lay a finger on her. 

but your professor doesn’t know that, hasn’t got a single clue, and satoru delights in the fear that must be running through his veins. down his spine, crawling into every narrow of his skeleton, making a home for itself that he’ll never quite be able to root out.

a gulp. satoru hears it, in the quiet of nightfall, just before he shuts the door behind him. good.

the rest of the evening is a blur. satoru gets home, relieved to find you still asleep, and tucks you into his chest. makes a mental reminder to order your favorite take out tomorrow; a little reward for your hard work.

finally, he can sleep easy. knowing you’ll get what you deserve. 

three weeks later, satoru places his hand on the familiar doorknob in front of him, dragging his weight behind him. blinking sluggishly. 

there’s a sinking feeling in his chest, weighing him down — like an anchor tied to his liver. a compass, tucked between his fourth and fifth rib, one that’ll always stay lodged right there. he’s learned to grow used to it, a natural consequence, a sign that his humanity is still intact. 

that doesn’t make it any less bothersome, though.

(ridding the world of a pest shouldn’t make him feel dirty. especially when he felt nothing but contempt for the pest in question, for the way he whistled as you walked by, the words he spewed before satoru met his eye. vile. putrid. why should he feel guilty for wiping a stain off the pavement?

it does make him feel dirty, though. a sinking feeling in his chest.)

there’s nothing to be done about it. satoru swallows the unpleasant taste on his tongue, and drags the door open, closing it behind him with a softness he reserves for you alone.

and there you are.

on the couch, farther away, already looking his way — lips instantly curling up into what he knows will be a smile. this time, it’s laced with excitement. one of his personal favorites. his gaze devours the joy in your features, the glimpse he gets of your teeth, that familiar crinkle of your eyes. 

you’re smiling. at him. you smile and his world wakes up, it’s dyed in different shades of blue, it’s brimming with life and love and something too good not to kill for. you smile and everything is right, good, worth it. you smile and it's as if the blood has been washed off his hands.

suddenly, all is well again. satoru exhales a blissful little breath.

“‘m home, honey,” he grins, a light pink dusting his cheeks, hanging his coat up before turning to face you. arms wide open. “did you miss me?”

his heartbeat stutters when you practically engulf him, all giddy giggles and that perfect smile, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. “mhm,” is what you chirp, pressing kisses down his collarbone, and he has to bite down on his lip to stop the shivers trailing down his spine. he tastes iron, but laps it up with a coo. sickly-sweet.

“missed you too, precious,” he purrs. “sorry i was gone for so long — had to take care of something.” 

he cups the back of your skull with his palm, large and crafted just to hold you, and marvels at how much you trust him. how you’re melting into his chest, fitting into every crevice of his heart. he wants to keep you there forever. forever and ever, always within reach, always close enough to touch. 

but he also wants you to be happy. he wants to see you run away, wherever the wind takes you, if only so he’ll get to feel you jump into his arms again, when you’ve had your fill of the world. when you come home to him, where you both belong.

satoru would never cage you. never, never, never. he wants you to enjoy your life — confining you wouldn’t do any good, would only stifle that pretty smile he loves so dearly. he wants your world to be large, brimming with life, blooming with fervor, wants the air to be clear enough for your beautiful lungs. he couldn’t build a world for you, here, in this apartment. no matter how big or luxurious. 

so his only option is to bend the world into a kinder shape — twist and mold until it forms a path good enough for you to follow.

(it’s worth it, he knows, he’ll always know. it’s worth it to see that smile.)

“is that a new coat?” you ask, naive and innocent, and it breaks him out of his thoughts, attention wired to the lilt of your voice.

“yeah.” it’s stylish, expensive, a nice shade of black. he had to throw the last one away. “looks nice, right? i’ll get you the same one, pretty.”

“you don’t have to, toru!” you hurriedly exclaim, knowing he’ll jump at the opportunity to spoil you. “i like the one i have now!”

satoru pouts. a soft huff, right by your ear. “you don’t wanna wear matching coats?” he feigns sadness, scratching softly at your scalp, drinking up the little purrs that bubble up in your throat. 

and you giggle. you giggle and all he can think is worth it, worth it, worth it. a stained coat or two means nothing. the blood on his hands is just insurance. 

“well, when you put it like that…” you shift a little, curling your arms around his neck, breathing him in. he wonders if you can smell the cleaning detergent. “i guess i wouldn’t mind a new coat.”

and he grins. “right? want me to buy you new shoes while i’m at it? some jewelry?” he peppers kisses down your neck, amusement laced in his voice. “the whole store?”

again, those giggles. again and again. he laps them up like fine wine. “okay, that’s too much.”

“but you deserve it!” he whines, sickeningly sweet. sick to his stomach with love. “been working so hard, my angel.”

and, suddenly — you light up. his little firefly. brightening, inhaling a giddy breath. pulling away, a little, and he does his best to bite back the frown on his face. you’re practically beaming, sunshine personified, eyes glittering with giddy joy.

“right! i almost forgot!” 

then you’re skipping away, happily, to retrieve your phone. and he knows what you’re going to show him, but still feigns surprise when he sees the score on your exam, that perfect 100 on the screen. still makes an expression of shock that he knows will get you to laugh, still picks you up and spins you around and tells you how proud he is.

he almost, almost feels bad, seeing you smile so wide; at what you assume to be the fruits of your own labour. almost feels ashamed, knowing that perfect 100 wouldn’t exist without the knife at your professor’s throat.

but, then again, this is how it should be. those numbers are the fruits of your own labour, because satoru is a part of you. and you deserve it, deserve it more than anyone — he knows you would have gotten it, even without his help, if your professor was competent enough to see your brilliance. 

satoru smiles. he is proud of you. and this is exactly how it should be. he’s just bending the world into its rightful shape, cutting strings from a wrongly woven web, righting the wrongs of the people around you.

you, you, you. the only thing that exists.

all of him is for you.

”i knew you could do it. never doubted you for a second, baby,” he smiles, so wide his cheeks hurt, and you return it with a kiss to his jaw. 

”thank you. i’m just so relieved,” you exhale a breath, heavy, and it’s like he can practically see the stress melting from your shoulders and eyes. worth it, worth it, worth it. ”gosh. i’m gonna sleep like the dead tonight.”

”as you should,” satoru chirps, pinching your side. softly, brimming with fondness. ”but before that, we’re gonna celebrate. all day. and tomorrow too!”

another smile coaxed from your lips; this time, it’s a little bit shy. bashful, at the praise, his endless excitement. so precious he wants to kiss you breathless. give you all the air in his lungs.

so precious that he forgets about everything else. 

this is what you always do to him; wrap him up in a blanket of your love, cloud his veins with a nectar so sweet he takes the leap into your arms without a second thought. a foolish, lovesick butterfly, sticking to a single rose; dripping with honey, overflowing. the butterfly is too drunk on love to care. 

you’re his flower, his joy, the most useful form of anesthesia. with you in his veins, on his mind, your lips on his jaw — satoru can pretend that his hands are clean. that they always have been.

it all slips from his mind. your professor, the creep who catcalled you, that one classmate you’ve been complaining about recently. he forgets that they even exists, and satoru thinks that must be what love is: something that narrows your world down until you can make a home out of it. 

(something worth cherishing, no matter the cost.)

as always, it’s your voice that snaps him out of the trance he’s in. turning around at the sound of your call, the orpheus to your eurydice, too in love to save you from himself. you’re both getting ready to head out, dressing up for a well-deserved date. 

satoru feels himself smile. he does the dirty work, and you get to reap the rewards. heaven on earth.

“oh, by the way! would you want to have dinner with my parents tomorrow?” you meet his absent gaze with a tilt of your head. “they’ve been asking about you again. it’s such a headache, seriously.”

satoru giggles, barely containing how delighted he is. raising a playful brow. “oh? grumpy that you aren’t the favorite child anymore, hm?”

“okay, first of all —“ you stifle a giggle, pulling a drawer open, rummaging through it. freshly washed clothes. he washes most of your things. “you aren’t their child. and second of all —“

“— yet.”

a pause. 

satoru watches your gaze flick over to him, then back to the drawer, collecting yourself. a cute flush to your cheeks. “… whatever.” you clear your throat. “second of all — i don’t like how much they like you. what kinda spell did you put them under? it’s always satoru this, satoru that!”

a huff fills the air, and you mutter something that sounds a little like mocking, an obnoxiously imitated where’s satoru? that makes him chuckle into his fist. 

he shrugs. “i’m just a natural charmer, y’know? and, for the record; i would love to have dinner with them.” he sends you a wink, playful, and you roll your eyes. “are you joining us?”

a bout of laughter pushes past your lips, and satoru thinks he could die happy — just soaking up the joy that spills from out your throat. he wishes he could live in it, paint your house in it, wear it. he wants your joy to be all he ever feels. he feels sick at the idea of ever being out of earshot for it.

“yes, i’m joining you.” your scoff is dripping with humour. ”i’d hate to be the fourth wheel, but it is what it is.”

satoru stifles a grin. ”lucky me. three beauties all to myself,” he drawls, a seductive lilt to his voice, just to hear that little noise you always make with the back of your throat. vaguely disgusted.

”you’re so gross.”

a coo. like the buzzing of a bee. ”don’t be jealous, honey. know you’re my favorite, don’t you?” satoru smiles — more sincere than you’ll ever know. ”could never love anyone else.”

”so my parents are in second place?” you quirk a brow, amusement lacing your words, and he clicks his tongue. 

”well, they made you. i’d have to be a fool not to worship artists of such caliber.” 

”charmer.”

”yours.” the word is a knife at his throat, a stain on his coat, a love so heavy it’ll burn him alive. ”only yours.”

and again, you smile. all he can think is that you deserve everything, everything that’s good, everything he could ever give you. it’s all he can think as you go about your day, as he leads you outside, as he watches that flicker of joy dance within your iris. as he watches you walk wherever your heart takes you.

the thought remains when you return home, when you wrap yourselves up in blankets and he throws a leg over your waist and you curl an arm around his ribcage. it’s all he can think. 

satoru was born to be of service — to someone, to the world, to something or another. he was born to carry a weight on his back. 

so why not bear the weight of your burdens?

all he wants is to protect you. all he’ll ever need is that smile on your face. he was always bound to be just this: a dog at your heels, a halo around your head, the watchful eye keeping you safe from everything rotten in this world. he’s the butterfly, the spider, the web itself. and he’ll never let you be tangled up in it.

he was born to be of service to you. so service you he will, until it all comes back to bite him.

“satoruuu — stop stealing the blanket!”

he prays it never will.

[srjlvr]

꒦꒷ enhypen ! and your infamous ship with them&lt;3

idol-ot7!enhypen x idol-fem!reader .. fluff .. no warnings&lt;3 not proofread!!

read pt.1 here!! — since you all liked it<3

ε ї з — heeseung

as if his heart eyes for you at the interview weren’t enough, heeseung started talking about you a lot in his lives, which only adds to your fan’s delusions.

he’d go on and talk about his day in his lives when all of a sudden he’d turn on some music and the first song he’d pick would be one of your songs.

“this song is so good, i listen to it almost every day, this artist y/n is really talented i really love her songs” he’d say with a big smile.

and oh, this is definitely not the end, he’d also go on and rant about the first time meeting you and tell them about those times when you bumped into each other, as if he’s telling his best friend about a new crush he has.

“i was walking down the aisle when i accidentally bumped into her, she was in a bit rush so she apologized quickly and ran away, it was so funny i didn’t know what to do” he’d giggle, “after that she saw me again and even got me a snack, that’s cute”

with delusional fans, comes the delusional tweets of fans, and the conspiracies about heeseung having a crush too (which might be true)

“if i wasn’t so sure before, now im more than 100% sure that this boy is having a crush on her, and i’m all in for it!!”

ε ї з — jay

a week after the valentine’s day story blew up, jay went on a live again, just casually talking with his fans that he loves and appreciates so much.

jay was ranting about a cake his mom made him,and explained how cool the design she did looked, to the point where he actually took his phone and scrolled through his gallery to show them a picture.

usually, when idols show their phones on lives or such, they’d turn off their notifications, only this time jay was so into it that he forgot to do it.

at the same time you, being the good old friend you are, responded to a text he sent you a few minutes ago, even before he started the live.

as he was showing his picture on his phone to the fans he also got a notification from you, it was a matter of a few seconds for fans to realize your contact name, and a few seconds for jay to realize he’s doomed.

jay tried to laugh it off but it was too late. now even those who didn’t ship you two and had doubts about it are left speechless.

“i admit i didn’t believe the valentine’s day story and their ship, but now knowing they text each other and probably do every day too? YES!!”

ε ї з — jake

your old meet up with jake was actually filmed for a short vlog, you both work under the same company so it was pretty common to meet up and get it filmed.

a few days after the scandal blew up, a really short vlog of the both of you got released.

fans rushed to watch it and see any clue of jake since it was rumored he was going to be there. the short film got around 100k+ in no time!

fans felt like swooning whenever they watched your interactions, you and jake even spoke in english, considering the fact that you both are foreigners and feel comfortable speaking in english.

jake never looked more shy than when he was literally standing next to you, holding his signed album and just waiting for the right moment to give it to you.

if you’d ask any fan that watched this short vlog, they’d probably tell you they’re 100% sure that something is up with the both of you. the way that he looked at you was something fans never saw before, and the way that you looked at him was as if you finally got to talk with your crush after years of crushing over him.

“i NEVER thought i’d be able to see both of my ults in one frame together!! i bet you a million dollars that they’re dating and fight me if they’re not!! it seemed like they tried to hide it but it looked too overact”

ε ї з — sunghoon

everyone’s favorite ambassadors!! your couple photoshoot got so famous that even people who never heard of the two of you refused to believe you’re not dating.

on your first photoshoot together, you and sunghoon did some funny tiktok challenges that got super famous to the point that people started making edits out of them.

ever since then, each time you’d see each other you’d make a tiktok together, wether it’s a dance challenge or just a very trendy tiktok hence, it wasn’t such a surprised that enhypen’s tiktok account and your tiktok account was filled with tiktoks of the both of you together.

fans brought up new conspiracies of the both of you going on short dates and filming tiktoks together, a whole new chaos was created.

if you thought these tiktoks were enough then think again because not only your tiktok was filled with the both of you, but you also made sure to take many many photos and post it on instagram.

i think out of all ships, yours and sunghoons shippers are being fed so well honestly and they never ever complain about it.

“i never heard about these two until i saw their photoshoots!! you can’t tell me they’re not dating?? and we get too many contents of them two im fully convinced they’re just dropping hints”

ε ї з — sunoo

new years awards came in fast, and all fans were looking forward to collab stages, it was rumored that a lot of 3rd gen and 4th gen are going to perform together, but fans never ever expected you and sunoo to be on one stage together.

him dancing to your performance in one award got so famous that fans even made memes about it, like “me when my favorite song is playing in one store” and more!

the thing is, this stage included only you and him, which made the fans go even more crazy. you and sunoo? on one stage? all alone? fans hoped so bad for that and it happened.

you and sunoo ate the performance, it included a lot of skinship and difficult moves that even fans who tried to cover the collab stage complained about it being really hard.

a stage between a female idol and male idol isn’t something that’s very popular lately (sadly!!!) so it was such a surprise that you and sunoo actually did it.

king and queen of kpop confirmed! your new ship nickname was formed in no time and other fans who watched your stage was mesmerized by how good you two look together.

“IM GOING CRAZY RN!! sunoo and y/n, boyfriend and girlfriend on one stage AND THEY ATE THAT PERFORMANCE!! imagine being on stage with your partner they’re so iconic for that!!”

ε ї з — jungwon

as weeks went by with you and jungwon being MCs, fans got used to see the both of you together every week, it became a routine for them to open their laptop and stream your live, they’ll always find the time to watch the two of you.

when your contract ended, fans were devastated and didn’t want to move on, they even considered to stop watching the show without having the two of you.

even in your last day, you and jungwon looked so sad and unmotivated which made fans even more sad than before. the memories you created will always stay in the show’s history and fans’ hearts.

i guess both of your fans got super lucky because your companies were smart enough to sign the both of you up to a new variety show!!

new content of the both of you together?? in one variety show?? your fans can’t be thankful enough honestly.

fans were going mad watching the both of you being too comfortable around each other, basically doing everything together and staying really close to each other.

“anyone else waiting for them to accidentally expose their relationship on this variety show? come on!! its too obvious they’re dating!!”

ε ї з — riki

ever since that time the both of you met accidentally, the coffee shop became super famous, mostly people who waits to catch the both of you together are going there.

ever since then, fate has its own ways of getting to you, and each time you’re going to buy coffee in local stores, you happen to see him too.

you once uploaded a photo of your coffee to your weverse account and fans noticed a very familiar figure, who just happened to upload a photo of his coffee with you in the background.

and if that wasn’t enough, you were caught by fans together in the same place and this time, even shared a really long conversation. it became a usual thing for the both of you to meet up whenever you’re off to buy coffee, as if you know where to go if you want to meet up.

fans refuse to believe that this is all a coincidence since the evidences are always there, you’ve been seen around each other too many times, even in photos you yourself uploaded.

at one point you just decided to upload a photo together and tease your fans a bit, and it actually worked because the next day you became trending as the coffee couple.

“coffee couple has done it again! do you think their dates must have coffee in it? like what if they go to watch a movie? popcorn and coffee? anyways im fully convinced they’re always planning it and we’re just here to watch”

••• copyright © srjlvr all rights are reserved.

PERM TAG-LIST ; @sungwhoonz @ohdudehesflirting @unlikelysublimekryptonite @deobiis @manooffline @miumiuoi @in-somnias-world @filmofhybe @wonbinsnovia @daegutowns @aurumiee @soobywon @dhriti-stories @ariadores @firstclassjaylee @watamotee33 @moons-v @s00buwu @hoonheepretty @lovelovelovebts (bold means cannot be tagged)

[hannieehaee]

hi! i wanted to request seungcheol x reader based off of ‘how you get the girl’ by taylor swift? thank you!

content: inspired by 'how you get the girl' by taylor swift, angsty, fight between reader and cheol implied, fluff ending, etc.

wc: 738

a/n: ive never rlly listened to taylor before so im sorry if i took the lyrics out of context i tried to research the meaning of the song but i wasnt 100% sure T-T anyways tysm for requesting sorry i took so long <3

masterlist

seungcheol knew he had royally fucked up.

the details didn't matter now. it had been a while now – six months to be exact – and he still couldnt get over you. he'd see you around town occasionally, and you'd look perfectly fine. how could you be fine when he was so empty without you in his life? were you really better off without him?

he tried to move on, he really did, but no one was like you. the type of love you had was the type he wanted to be his endgame. there was no question about it. which was why he needed to fix his this.

it started with attempts to be in the same spaces as you again. he would find out where you'd be from mutual friends (okay, a little stalkerish, but it was fine!) and make sure to be in attendance to any party you'd go to. lucky for him, you were best friends with his good friends soonyoung and vernon, which gave him the perfect opening to approach you every time. at first you'd look peeved off by his presence, but after a few times you seemed to warm up to him, even laughing at his jokes sometimes. after a few weeks of intruding your friend hangouts, it was as if he'd always been there.

the day finally came in which you'd been left alone together at a party, with both soonyoung and vernon leaving one by one. it was getting late, so seungcheol offered to walk you home, which you surprisingly accepted with a polite smile. you talked like old friends on your way back, never once making any mention of the relationship you used to have. that made cheol both sad and relieved. it was good you weren't hurt by it anymore, but did this mean you were now looking for a mere friendship out of him? he had tried to bring back the old dynamics between the two of you. he had even been as physically affectionate as your newly-developed friendship would allow, but it seemed like that wasnt what you were looking for. seungcheol couldnt help but carry the disappointment in his face as the two of you arrived to your home.

"cheol? what's wrong?", you asked as soon as you caught sight of his face.

"hmm? oh, nothing. im fine. i, uh, goodnight. thanks for letting me walk you."

before he could even turn around, you pulled at his arm to grab his attention.

"cheol, what is it?"

he hesitated in speaking up again. he knew himself to be an outspoken man to a fault. and how was be expected to hold back when you looked so pretty under the moonlight and were even showing concern for him?

"i love you,"

fuck. that's not how he meant to start. and that was clearly not what you had expected him to say, judging by the shocked expression on your face.

"what?"

"im still in love with you, i- i know i fucked up, and i know i waited too long, but ... seeing you move on in life without me made me lose my mind. i know i shouldve apologized earlier. and i cant even blame you for breaking up with me, i ... i was a shitty boyfriend. i didnt treat you how you deserved. but i'll be better now, i promise! just give me one more chance. ill give you everything i shouldve back then and more. i know it's been six months, but ive been losing my mind without you. i know we could make this work. please?"

he knew he mustve looked crazy as he rambled his sudden love confession to you, but he still hoped that you'd maybe take pity on him and take him back. however, after a full minute of silence from you as you didn't meet his eyes, he knew that luck probably wouldnt be smiling at him today.

he turned to leave without a word until you unexpectedly stopped him again.

"wait, cheol," you seemed kind of shy about your movements, but still offered him a smile.

"come in? do you ... will you stay the night? please?"

your shy smile was met with his bright one as his arms warmly wrapped around yours, kissing your cheeks over and over as he used to once upon a time, walking the two of you into the apartment he was once oh so familiar with.

[gyuswhore]

the story of us ✦ j.w.w x reader

the story of us looks a lot like a tragedy now - the story of us

synopsis: So many walls that you can't break through; except you do.

wc: 2.1K

contains: best friends to lovers, angst, fluff, humour, happy ending, alcohol, arguments

masterlist

Support creators by reblogging!

[a/n]: im exhausted, im loopy, im hungry, but i really wanted to post this so here you go my babies I'm sorry i haven't fed you in so long (ty @toruro for making sure i wasn't talking out of my ass in this ily)

[edit; 11/04/24]: grammar and spelling.

Jeon Wonwoo was nearing boiling point when he watched you push him away from yet another conversation.

He tried to understand, just like he always had. But it was proving near impossible at the five-month mark. 

There were clear signs you exhibited when you needed space, for whatever reason, Wonwoo knew you would tell him when you recovered. So he gave you what you needed.

And yet, when he finds himself pushed away from what looks like a casual conversation between your mutual friends, he finds his mild annoyance grow into something hotter. 

There’s a clench in his jaw as he tries not to squeeze the red cup in his hand with too much pressure, even when all the spiteful bit of his brain wants to do is to pour its pigmented contents all over your cream outfit. He manages to control himself, choosing to get up and exit the premises entirely. In complete silence, he refuses to acknowledge any yell of his name from passing acquaintances. 

Jeon Wonwoo refused to respond to any of your advances after that. 

Invitations to lunch were left on a jarring sent, the notification sitting in his log until he chooses to open it too late. His response was bare when you asked for help on some accounting concepts, pushing you over into Jihoon’s hands to fulfill your requirements. There’s a blatant shrug when you touch his shoulder, concerned, asking why his behaviour had become so distant in the past weeks; he responds with a mumble of, “just tired”.

The great divide happened a few days proceeding your birthday, one for which Wonwoo did nothing for but send you a quick message during the evening, never to see you throughout the extended day. 

“I can’t believe you’re putting this on me!” you all but yell, eyes wide and expression exasperated at the situation.

“Are you blind? Or just plain stupid? Because I didn’t tolerate months of your shit attitude to have you say it isn’t your fault.” Wonwoo is breathing heavily, hands motioning towards your entire figure with equal disbelief.

“What attitude?” you emphasize. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know I couldn’t be upfront with my best friend.”

“There’s a difference between being in a mood and blatant disrespect. I’m tired of having to put up with your mood swings like it’s my responsibility to coddle you. When was the last time you genuinely asked me how I was doing?”

“All the time!”

“Yeah, after you realize there's nobody else to whine and wail to!”

“Wonwoo, you’re being ridiculous.”

“Fine. If I’m clearly so unhinged, I’ll leave you to your liking.” 

The dwindled interactions, from messages to hellos, went from sparing to nonexistent — just like that. 

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t expect for you and Wonwoo to reconcile in the matter of a few days, if not a couple weeks.

But when the distance did nothing but grow larger, there was a settle of resentment in the pit of your stomach as you accepted the feud you were in. 

A text was sent from your phone a couple days after the incident.

[You]: can we talk?

But when you see no sign of the grey Delivered on the end, you knew he had blocked you. 

This was all nothing less than baffling to you for a number of reasons, starting with how you had never witnessed Wowoo acting this way. 

Wonwoo had done nothing but reprimand you the rare chance you suggested blocking an apprehensive individual, something about not showing that you cared. His voice seemed redundant after a certain decibel, the rarest chance to witness him yell at a failed video game or a frustrating professor. 

You know better, which is the only reason you’re ruling off paranormal possession. 

The claims against you came as an afterthought, not, however, rendering them any less strange. There’s a part of you that pondered if your shield of annoyance blocked you from seeing the truth in his words and in your behaviour, finding yourself overwhelmed with emotions when the thought crossed your mind, tears of frustration immediately blurring your vision. 

You did not understand, you could not. And when it all got too much, you allowed the hurt and confusion to turn into something more dangerous. You replaced it with anger, in the same place that once occupied a more delicate emotion. 

There was an uproar in Wonwoo’s mind when he sees you walk into the lecture hall, unaware of your overlapping schedule in the new semester. He watches as your eyes pass over the moderately packed space, briefly glancing over where he sat; if you saw him, you did nothing to bring a reaction out of it. You take a seat a few rows up front, right in front of him where he’s able to see the back of your head for the next two hours — for the rest of the semester. 

He wonders if it’s too late to switch classes. 

“Wonwoo, I honestly think this is getting out of hand.” Jihoon munches on his cashews, leaning against bark of the tree they were both sat under. 

“Did you want me to keep tending to her bullshit then?” he grumbles.

“That’s not what I’m saying, you know it’s not.”

“That’s what it sounds like.” Wonwoo’s retort is brisk.

Jihoon is suddenly snapping his fingers in his face at the reply, a flinch accompanies Wonwoo’s already sour expression. 

“See! See how frustrating it is when somebody isn’t making sense?” 

“How does this—” 

“Wonwoo, did you try talking to her about how you felt, you know, without the screaming?” 

Jihoon watches as Wonwoo’s expression clears out, his eyebrows unfurrowing and the scowl fading. He doesn’t speak, choosing to let the realization kick in.

“No.” 

Jihoon sighs, taking another pause. “I’m not saying what she did wasn’t uncalled for, but you need to talk shit out before deciding you hate each other.”

“I don’t hate her.”

“Right, so can we wrap this up quickly and have you confess your undying love so we can all relax.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Heat crawls up Wonwoo’s cheeks.

“What? If you don’t hate her, it’s gotta be the opposite.”

Did Wonwoo like you? Yeah, he probably did. Did he ever let himself ponder upon it? No, because he was downright mortified of the mere thought. He finds himself a hypocrite to say it was to preserve your friendship, but he figures he’s fucked it up in a way that’s arguably worse. 

Regardless, Wonwoo walks away from that conversation with two things: a stark realization, and an even starker admittance. 

Everything was going wrong. At least that’s what it felt like when you hear the clang of your water bottle hit the pavement, rolling off into the oncoming traffic as you sprint to grab it. You nearly cause a vehicle pile-up, swallowing a couple profanities from braking drivers. 

You’re stuffing the darn thing into your bag when you trip on a loose brick on the path, nearly landing on your face. The glare you send into the pavement costs you even more when a hard shoulder bumps into your side, sending you another couple steps back. You don’t bother to see who the perpetrator is, too preoccupied with your attempts to take in deeper breaths amid the blankness of your mind. 

There are no hiccups after that, what you might owe your more conscious mind to. Stomping up the library steps, you thank nothingness for the air conditioning that meets your hot face, slowing down as you take in the crowd. 

Scanning the room for an empty seat is harder than you’d anticipated, hoping the heat would keep students away from the building as you left to get work done. Approaching a table, you set down your bag with a huff, pulling the chair out to finally take the seat you’ve been needing for so long. 

The universe seems to have other plans. 

It’s almost funny the way you and Wonwoo make eye contact across the other table, the recognition sending a jolt through your stomach. 

You’ve never moved so fast, pushing the chair back in with a screech that earns you a few looks, grabbing the handles of your bag as you turn around to leave the building you’d just entered. 

No way you'd sit there. Not when he was around.

You're bounding down the steps when somebody passes you, murmuring something without slowing their stride.

“I’m leaving, you can go inside,” Wonwoo says, and the sound of his voice has you halting almost immediately.

Whipping your head around to search for the sound, you watch as he takes a turn at the end of the steps, slowly moving out of your vision. 

There’s a swirl of something in your chest, and you realise in that moment how much you missed hearing his voice. 

Chiding yourself, you blink back the water that wells up in your eyes, embarrassed at how quickly you were losing yourself.

But the damage was done. And you wanted to be reckless, regardless of how desperate it made you look. A split second decision is made in that moment, one that lightens the heavy feet that you’ve planted on the concrete. 

You’re back to bounding down the steps, but this time with aim. 

Taking the same turn you saw Wonwoo take, you break into a sprint as you see his figure move farther away. You keep running, continuing to bump into both objects and people, hurried "sorry"'s the only thing you choose to throw their way. 

“Wonwoo!” Your voice comes out stronger than you’d intended, the sharpness having him turn around in search, eyes landing on your accelerating figure. 

Both of you realize too late how fast you’re really going, the velocity taking you directly into his outstretched arms, hands grasping the sleeves of his shirt as you come to screeching stop directly into his chest. 

You don’t have the time nor the patience to be embarrassed, pulling your face back to look directly into Wonwoo’s bewildered eyes to huff out your next words.

“Why did you block me?” you ask, voice gruff and slightly out of breath.

Wonwoo’s mouth opens and closes like a fish, words refusing to come out. 

“Why are you so mad at me? Why are you being nice to me if you’re mad at me?” You don’t stop, the direct questions tumbling off your tongue in desperation. 

You search his face for an answer when his mouth fails, but all you find is the remnants of shock yet to ebb away. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for making you feel like you weren’t important, I’m sorry for taking your presence for granted, I’m sorry for hurting you, I’m sorry for…for… I don’t know! I’m just really sorry and I don't know how else to make this right.”

“I’m sorry, too,” you hear him say and you feel the moisture return to your eyes. 

“Huh?”

“I should’ve…” he pauses, looking sheepish. “I should’ve talked to you before I, y’know, went off on you. I should’ve managed my feelings better, I’m sorry.” 

You're silent for a few tantalizing moments before you raise your fists, and pound down on his chest with everything you have. You do it again, and then again, and again—

“What?- Ow!” 

“When are you gonna stop bottling up your feelings for fucks sake, it’s landed you everywhere but good!” you say, nearly yelling.

Wonwoo whips his head around to see who’s listening, palm to mouth in attempts to silence you. 

“I’m sorry! I know! I’m working on it,” he rambles, trying to get you to quit struggling. “Jihoon and I talked, that’s why I realised I was being dumb.”

“Are you gonna unblock me now or do I need to pay Jihoon to sit down with you again?”

Wonwoo’s eyebrows furrow. “You payed Jihoon to sit with me?”

“No, you idiot. But I should have because you can’t seem to figure out how to feel emotions.” 

Wonwoo can’t help himself when he breaks out into a grin, letting out a breathy chuckle that has you asking “What?”.

He pulls you in, heart to heart in an embrace, holding you tight to make up for the weeks of no contact. He breathes in your scent and feels as though he hasn’t in years. 

“I’m not gonna come running up to you the next time you decide you hate me,” you mumble into his shoulder, pouting slightly.

“I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

“No.” Wonwoo pulls away but keeps you in his arms, looking at you, “I love you. Like, the kind of stuff that makes you wanna live together forever. I love you.” 

It’s your turn to gape like a fish. 

“W-what?”

“You told me not to bottle up my feelings.” 

“Yeah, but—wow, um.” 

“Did I make another mistake?” 

No! You wanted to scream. But you don’t. You instead lift your hands up to come around his face, cradling it. And you kissed him. 

“I love you, too. Like the live together forever kind.” 

[nothing-tolose]

Wood Stairs on The Coast.

warning: age gap (4 years). please lmk if there's anything i missed!

a/n: i wrote some words repeatedly im sorry, imsorry imsorry

daily click

You really hate yourself for sitting in the same spot again and again. Resting your butt on the wooden surface of the stairs, your eyes gazing at the ocean merely 270 meters from your house. You letting out a sigh as you bury your face in your arms, cursing yourself because you're still waiting for Abby to return, even though there's almost no chance and reason for her to come back to the little town where you live. It has been five years two months and two weeks since she left you with her promise to wait for her come back in 4 years, well, it was too far late. Now that you're a grown up, no longer the girl who once struggled with her homework, you work at a little bakery shop in your small town instead of pursuing university like most of your friends did. Being 21 years old, you feel old enough to date Abby that you've been waiting for almost half a decade since too young to have her back then. But does it truly matter when the promise remains unfulfilled? All hopes, birthday wishes, and prays you always mean it for Abby, hoping she'd be here soon with her feet touching the ground. You knew where her hometown was at, only if you get enough money, you swear you could go there and meet her. You don't even know if her promise is still worth for believing in or it's just a bunch of lies that you still hold tightly. You rejected the girls who confessed their feelings to you because you were waiting for Abby. Now they got their own girlfriends, you still here, sitting on your house's stairs, alone, not with Abigail Anderson, not with her being your girlfriend. You leaned on the railing, thinking about how much easier life was when she was with you, even if it was only for four months. The past five years hadn't been as amazing as the year before. You've heard great things here, but not as great as they'd be if she came back. Your house remained the same as it was a year ago; there was no chance of her getting lost. Night had fallen, and you sat by the window, facing the coast you've been staring while sit on the porch stairs this morning. The dim light in your room from a white bedside lamp—the gift from Abby for your 16th birthday—that you never turned off, day or night. The lamp served as a symbol of how long you'd been waiting; once it went off, it would be over. Your head leaned against the wall, sighing, "Should I stop, Abby?"

You promised yourself you wouldn't sit again on the wooden stair corner again, yet there you are, hand cupping your cheeks, the gentle breeze playing with your hair, forcing you to tuck hair strands behind your ear every single seconds. You have some rocks on the ground from the beach you visited earlier this morning. You've sorted them by size and now you're playing with them randomly, just to stave off your boredom, as if you were know that Abby won't come back, leaving you feeling hopeless now. You huffed, again. You tried not to care anymore about the promise. But no, you knew yourself better than anyone; deep down in your heart, you still cared enough for her. You were too focused on your mind, hands still playing with the rocks and sand, not hearing the footsteps approaching you. The footsteps stopped a few meters away from you. You raised your head, immediately stood up after you saw the owner of the footsteps. You couldn't say anything as if words had become trapped in your throat.

"You've grown up a lot,"

Without a second thought, you ran to her and hugged her tightly. Even though the promise was fulfilled much later than expected, it didn't matter anymore. She's here, Abby is here, Abigail Anderson is here. No words comes from your mouth, all that mattered was the hug, and she returned it just as fiercely. Her hands rubbing your head while saying "I'm sorry, you've waited me for too long." She was saying sorry to you, for countless times. You shakes your head, crying in between the hug. Abby cupped your cheeks, smiling, her gaze locked on your lips, "Can.. can I?" You didn't wait for her to finish speaking as you simply nodded, you want her to kiss you, you really want it. Your lips met hers, ending five years of loneliness without her. At last, she could kiss you without concern for age differences, and at last, you could having her being your girlfriend. "God, where was the girl who always asks me to help her homework?" You chuckled, along with her wiped your tears away on your cheeks after the kisses, "She's a grown up now, Abby."

"Please, please don't leave me again,"

"I won't, baby. I won't,"

Once again big thanks to Taylor Swift for giving me the idea.

[lbxbx]

Cockpit | knj

Pair: Namjoon x reader

Summary: Namjoon goes through a rough time while getting a divorce, meeting you at the club two weeks in a row when attraction becomes unreal.

Rating: +18 mature content, Smut, divorce, fatherhood,

Previous | Next

It’s early in the summer, about the end of June you are finally able to take a weekend off of work, the hospital you work at never gave up on you through the weekends, especially during summer weekends where most accidents occur, which is specifically the season you regret taking your medical degree.

Standing in your apartment around 8 in the evening, struggling to correct your eyeliner in front of the long full body mirror in your bedroom, you curse under your breath for fucking up your eyeliner again before putting down the pencil and smudging the stupid line you already put on your lash lines.

You applaud yourself, even though you sucked to begin with, it didn’t turn out half bad. Or at least that’s what you convince yourself.

Your phone buzzes on  your nightstand which makes the music you’re already playing on your phone go quieter, you turn while singing the missed part of the song you’re playing, you look at the screen, it’s Hoseok, your high school best friend who ended up being your really close friend even after all these years of studying abroad and being busy with work, your parents became close with his since they already love him.

You slide down the notification.

“you better be ready when im there”

“u know I hate waiting in the car”

“and you always take so long so pls be ready”

You were going to the club to celebrate the last weekend of your friend Yoongi being single, you had already chose a short flattering, but very revealing dress, barely covers your lower ass, silver that fully exposes the tattoo on your spine of a long flower that ends on the nape of your neck, your dress barely covers your lower back, with silver high heels.

You rarely get a chance to dress up because of your time consuming work that robbed all the fun out of your life, not long ago you started balancing work and having an actual life, you and Hoseok visited different clubs and went on so many hiking trip together through the past year which resulted in you making a new friend to add to your group, Hoseok is such a social butterfly and a comfortable person to be around.

Your lips curve in a soft smile, well he’s right, no matter how hard you try to manage your time, you’re always late, your fingers automatically hover over the screen to reply.

“yes sir.” With a salute emoji.

You get up and take off your pajama set and get into the small dress you chose, you loosen your big curls and make the final touches, you’re looking perfect and you knew it, tonight will be solely about having fun, Yoongi is actually getting married!

Your phone rings after a few minutes and you know it’s Hoseok, you answer and inform him that you’ll be down in seconds, you take your purse and put in your sample size perfume, phone and lipstick, before getting in your not comfortable very high heels, you turn off the lights and make your way out of the building.

You spot his fancy Porsche parked right in front of the entrance, you roll your eyes when you see him walk out the car and make his way towards you.

“Look at you.” He holds his hands out to hold yours. “You look like a disco ball.” He spins you and whistles, which makes click your tongue and look at him with your free hand on your hip.

“A beautiful disco ball.” He elaborates, he looks good too, wearing a gray suit with the first 4 buttons of his off-white shirt unbuttoned. You hug him and give him a soft kiss on the cheek. “Let’s get going we’re already late.”

Flaws and all, I love ‘em all, to me you’re perfect

The moment you walk into the club, Hoseok walking behind you with his hand on your back, slowly guiding you to the table you’re friends booked, place already packed with people. And once Taehyung spots you he gets up with his drink in his hand. “Finally.” He starts dancing, slowly making his way towards you, which makes you sway your shoulders, dancing with him and laugh at him, clearly he’s already drunk.

He hugs you in his big arms and kisses your temple softly. “There you are, I hope you enjoyed the hike you didn’t invite me to.” He says in a sarcastic note making you nudge him in the chest.

You, Hoseok, Yoongi and his fiancé Mia had went on a hike a couple weeks ago which Mia suggested and you couldn’t decline her offer, you could’ve told the boys but it all happened so quick, you didn’t get a chance to invite any of them.

“Come on, it wasn’t that fun any way.” You say subtly into his ear which he smirks and takes another sip of his drink, he hugs Hoseok before both of you approach your table, you hug Yoongi and he hugs you back. “It’s really happening huh?” You rub his back.

“I’m really putting my dick in jail.” He laughs, handing you his drink, which you don’t think twice before sipping it.

“Come on, we’re getting a round of shots!” Seokjin moves a seat away to give you space to sit, his hair grew longer than you could ever remember, he pushed it back but a few strands manage to slip on his forehead.

“You guys are already drunk?” You exclaim before taking a shot glass from him, you all stand up and clink your shots together.

“To putting Yoongi’s dick in jail!” Jungkook says loud which makes you all repeat after him. “To putting Yoongi’s dick in jail!” You swallow the shot and cringe immediately at the bitter taste, which makes you chase it with the nearest glass of juice you find on the table.

“Hey. Y/N, let’s dance.” Jimin puts his hand on your back, you shake your head immediately in refusal. “I need more alcohol.”

Jimin ends up pulling Taehyung to the dance floor, you take your seat between Yoongi and Seokjin, Hoseok already headed to the bar to grab you both drinks.

“They finally let you off work?” Seokjin asks out loud for you to hear him, you nod and straighten your back. “I didn’t take a weekend off since October.” You pout, he nods and take a sip of his drink. “You’ll figure it out soon, it’s always difficult in the beginning.”

You and Seokjin met at the bar near the hospital you work out, he’s a pediatrician resident in his 4th year, you never knew he worked at the same hospital until you met him at the bar, it was only Hi’s and Hello’s at the beginning of your friendship, but he made his way into the group when he actually showed up when you needed him, he’s a bully sometimes, which makes you laugh even when you force it out, but he’s the sweetest.

“And you?” You turn to Yoongi. “How are you not panicking?”

He rolls his eyes at you and puts his drink down, “Typical Y/N”

Studying abroad has definitely made you a bit more open minded than usual, it’s not that you refuse relationships, you’re totally not against them, but it’s just not your thing. You’ve never been through a full experience to love and be loved, but you never craved it. Back while you were studying, your week nights were devoted just for studying and focusing on your career, but on the weekends, you had to spend them out, partying, clubbing, having flings with a couple of people, you liked your lifestyle and you still enjoy it being like this.

You nudge Yoongi in his arm and add. “You’re so brave for doing this, I’m happy for you.”

“I would totally agree with Y/N, I would panic.” Jungkook shrugs, which makes you high five him.

“Come on.” Seokjin scoffs. “Jungkook wants to pound every pussy in Seoul before getting married.”

“Word.” Hoseok agrees without even getting the context while putting your drinks down, Jungkook’s mouth falls as if he was offended. “He’s not wrong.” Hoseok shrugged.

Not long after, you’re not completely drunk, but drunk enough to get on the dance floor with Taehyung and Yoongi, you’re sandwiched between them, the three of you dancing to the loud beat of music, the dance floor is crowded as hell, people making out and kissing in the corner of the club, some even grinding against each other, the place smells like a mix of perfume, cologne, and hormones.

Seokjin joins you eventually and starts dancing with you, you laugh at how stupidly drunk he is, his cheeks flushed red and his eyes barely kept open. You lean closer to his ear. “I’m gonna go grab a drink.”

You go over to the crowded bar, you hardly find a place to stand next to man waiting for his drink, you stumble on the small step you didn’t see, which you curse under your breath for not paying attention, you barely bump into the man’s elbow, you out of habit apologize while panicking. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He said, you could feel him looking down at you while you’re checking if your heels are okay, you shrug it off once it looks okay, you walk closer to the bar while leaning your elbows on it, waiting for the bartender to notice you.

“Are you okay?” The gentleman asks, right until now you realized you don’t know who this deep voice belongs to, you turn to look at him, sharp nose, a charming smile with a soft dimple on his cheek, small orbs that stare right into yours.

You visibly gulp and nod, studying his face and features more, he even dares to shoot a sweet smile at you. He knows he has a beautiful smile and he uses it as move to make.

And at this moment you realize you’ve been quite for an uncomfortable amount of time.

“Yeah. I’m alright.” You nod, you know it’s not that hot in June, but you’re sweating. He turned his face to the bartender and you notice his soft jaw and long neck, his long fingers wrap around the glass, you’re pretty sure he said something, but you were busy staring at his buff arms making their way to his back pocket to locate his wallet, your eyes chase every single movement he makes, and with his hands locating his wallet in his front pocket, your eyes fall on his thick thighs, where did this man come from?

“What can I get you?” The bartender asks, immediately making you snap out of your thoughts, you look up and clear your throat. “I’ll have a martini.”

An awkward silence and tension builds between you and the man right next to you, you want to say something but you don’t want to sound stupid, you choose to ignore your thoughts and just take your phone out of your purse and act occupied, you look very stupid when you’re deleting old pictures on your phone.

“Y/N?” He says, which makes your eyes widen and you almost choke in your own breath, you look at him again, Do you know him?

“I’m sorry?” You answer surprisingly fast, which makes him take a sip from his drink and laugh. “Your phone case is a pass card.”

You’re confused for a second, still trying to process what he’s saying, you’re drunk, but not drunk enough to be this stupid and slow and thick?

He can easily read your face and he shoots you another one of his smiles, he knows what he’s doing.

He gives you a look, which clearly means ‘Can I?’, And you shrug telling him to elaborate. He grabs your phone and flips it over still remaining in your hands, which reveals your see through phone case, that you have your hospital pass card inside it, showing your full name in a large font.

“Ah this.” You immediately turn your phone back, you hope he didn’t see too much, like where you work or what’s your job. You look back at him to see him staring right into your face, studying your features too.

“I’m Namjoon.” He reaches his hand out to shake yours, and you don’t hesitate at all to shake his hand back and feel his long fingers squeezing your hand ever so softly, both of you shaking hands and not letting go for a few seconds.

“I’m sorry for catching you off guard.” He grins, which makes you feel like something is pinching you in your stomach. “But you have your pass card on full display, which if it  makes you feel better, I just saw your first name, nothing else.”  He adds, like he knew what you were concerned about.

“Y/N!” Jungkook calls from behind, which makes you pull your hand away from Namjoon’s in the speed of light, your weird attitude doesn’t go unnoticed by him, he looks back at Jungkook and turns back to face the bar and take a sip of his drink.

“Come on, we’re popping the champagne.” Jungkook’s hand sits respectfully on your upper back, you nod and look back at him. “I’m waiting for my drink, I’ll follow you in a second.” although your drink has been sitting in front of you for the past few seconds, Jungkook is too drunk to notice and he heads back to your table, Namjoon turns to look at the sight of Jungkook joining the rest of the boys around the table.

“Your boyfriend?” He asks, which you think is a little bit over the line.

“Him?” You cringe. No offense to Jungkook, but you and him are just friends, you almost ended up sleeping with him long time ago and thankfully it didn’t happen, you’re just friends, and you’re smart enough to know it’s wrong if you did it. “Absolutely not.” You enunciate it.

Your fingers wrap around your drink and you know it’s your turn to make him look. “Nice to meet you Namjoon.” You clink your glass with his that’s resting on the table, and you turn and move your hair to the side to expose your tatted back to him, you walk towards the table and join the boys for the rest of the night.

Your night has come to an end, you’re leaning against the wall outside the club with Jimin waiting for Hoseok to bring his car, your heels in your hands and Jimin’s jacket  on your shoulders, muffled music from inside still in your ears, you’re done for the night, you’re not completely drunk, but you started having a strong headache minutes ago, you need to rest, shower and go to sleep.

You laugh at Taehyung teasing Jungkook and you join Taehyung, Jungkook ends up flipping Taehyung off and sending you a fly kiss which is way over you when you see behind him Namjoon, walking out of the club with what seems like his friends.

Ironically, you can hear the song ‘Satisfaction’ played from the inside.

Push me, and then just touch me.

Till I can get my satisfaction.

He had his suit jacket in his hands, he was rolling his shirt sleeves slowly up with his long fingers.

Are you drooling?

He sits on a near bench and just man spreads his legs, his hand taking out a pack of cigarettes from his jacket, he takes one out and puts it in between his plump lips, clicking the lighter a couple of times while shielding the flame with his other hand before it goes to his hair and runs his fingers through it, he looks around and notices you staring at him, you’re not even blinking. He hallows his cheeks while taking a drag and blows out a huge cloud of smoke.

This man walked out of a fucking book!

He doesn’t hesitate to show you his dimple one last time before winking at you, your breath hitches and your hand goes to your stomach, there’s a knot that you feel only he can make it feel better, you’re sweating more than usual, and you can feel the heat between your legs getting uncomfortable.

“Drive safe Hoseok.” Jin opens the passenger seat and looks at you, you snap out of your thoughts and turn towards the car, “Don’t forget our dinner tomorrow.” He adds.

You had already planned on a celebration dinner for Yoongi too, this time a little more formal considering some of the boys are bringing along their girlfriends. You nod and look one last time at Namjoon. You secretly wish you took his number or had a drink with him, but you’re not a girl who makes a first move, for your pride’s sake, it’s always guys making a move on you.

“Text me when you get there safe.” Yoongi leans his palms on the roof of the car, you get into the car and buckle your seat belts.

You and Yoongi didn’t meet long ago, about a year and a half ago, you were with Hoseok and Jungkook playing bowling, when Jungkook got a little too competitive and decided to challenge the table next to you, which had Yoongi, his girlfriend, now fiancé. And other friends. Yoongi won of course, which you and Hoseok admired that finally someone humbled this man, you met him again at the bowling place and you just clicked with him. He’s also offered his help since he works at a bank, he makes everything easier for you. He’s a true friend.

“Good night.” You smile at him. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” You wave to the rest of the boys and they wave back, you turn to look at that bench again, Namjoon must’ve left because you can’t locate him, you lean your head back into the car seat and your hands move to the air conditioning, you’re on fire!

Hoseok didn’t drink throughout the night since he’s driving, he did take a couple sips of whine, but he’s not drunk at all.

Doesn’t take that long to get back to your place, you undress and get into the shower and clean off your makeup, you take a bottle of water out from the fridge and sit in your living room.

The images of this man is haunting you, you only know his name and his face, you don’t know what he does, where he lives, how old is he?

You look at your phone and open up your social media, shuffling between the apps and searching ‘Namjoon’. You don’t even know his last name, he could use a picture that’s not his.

Your friends admired that you were talented in finding people’s accounts, especially when one of the men had a secret crush on a girl, you would help them find her social accounts by trying to search in different ways.

And you did manage to find an instagram account, the username matching his real name, the picture was taken on a beach, a figure of a tall man with his back turned to the camera, it could be him after all

You open the account but it’s clearly not active, following 120 accounts and followed by 70, and only 1 photo uploaded. But the account is private.

You put down your phone in frustration and sigh, you end up gulping your water and going to bed. It’s just a one time thing, you won’t see him again.

Or at least that’s what you think.

It’s the moment he walks back to his house when he feels the heavy weight of the world on his shoulders, he stands in front of his apartment door, debating whether he should go inside or just go crash at his parents.

No, no. They don’t have to know.

Kim Namjoon, the successful man who went out of the box and did the extraordinary, chose an out of the box job, with a high degree. Quickly managed to pull his life together and marry—well not the love of his life, it’s the woman he got used to being around.

Married for 3 years and not once did he feel that this marriage is about them, it was about her and only her.

First year was low key not that bad but not that good either, every married couple have fallouts, but he assumes that they both have to compromise, but only he had to compromise. She wants everything done her way, she wants him to eat what she eats, go where she goes, not out of love, but out of habit of controlling people around her.

Yet he was sweet and considerate, she travelled to a different province to live with him away from her parents, maybe that’s why she’s acting like this, she’s probably homesick, he did everything he could to make it up to her, he bathed her with love and gifts and money. He wanted to show her the world quite literally, but she just refuses every act of love, even denies his touch in front of their family, never did she ever like a photo he posted of both of them, she never left a comment which he really craves. He wants to show people he loves her.

Even when he once tried to surprise her on their one year anniversary, booked her first class seats to New York on new years eve, she completely rejected and never even said thank you. Goodness, she never even gifted him on his birthday.

Second year things went significantly downhill, when they found out she’s pregnant. Planning for kids was never on the table, not that they don’t want kids, but this kid is totally unplanned for. He so desperately wants to be a dad, but he’s not sure how she feels about him, or most importantly how he feels about her. They’re married just by name.

She made up an excuse for being a tough sleeper and she wanted her own bed, he gave up the master bedroom to give her her own space, and moved out to the couch at first when he thought it was temporarily or short termed.

3 Months, 4 months..

9 Months passed, she gave birth and came up with another excuse of the baby crying at night, he had flights to catch in the morning, she doesn’t want to mess up his sleep. As if she cares.

A man has his own desires, he tried different ways, kissing her, touching, even suggesting movie nights to show her something that might make her aroused, none.

He adores his son, that’s what’s keeping him sane at the moment, although when he comes back late from work, baby Jay mostly gets ready for bed by that time. Play time with daddy is not allowed, he can’t even love his son the way he should.

His son turned 2 in their third year of marriage, he can now talk , walk, even run. And baby Jay doesn’t seem to like mommy as much as he likes daddy, although he spends most of the weekends in Ilsan with her parents, but he’s still attached to his daddy.

It was 2 in the morning, standing in front of his apartment door, the debate tonight is taking longer than usual, especially when he saw you, the astonishing lady who fucking screams his type, outgoing, gorgeous, attractive, social hence your large group of friends.

He searches his pockets before fishing out his ring, puts it back on his left ring finger, before pressing the pass code on the door, the lights are.. On?

He makes his way inside his flat and locks the door behind him, “Where have you been?” She storms out from the guests room, a huge ugly frown on her once he thought was a pretty face.

“I’m sorry, I went out with guys from work.” Namjoon’s job kind of restrained him when it came to having friends, he did have some, but they ended up getting busy with their regular jobs and life, it became easier to hang out with his co workers because they got off work together, plus they click and get along really well.

“Do you know what time it is?”

When he looks at her, he swims in a deep pond of thoughts in his head, he can’t even remember the last time she showed him skin, he did excuse her when she gave birth when she wanted to be in comforting clothes, but their soon is at her parents house, she could at least try and show some skin.

In a pair of sweat pants and an oversized stained shirt, who is he to judge, at least she’s comfortable, and those stains show her effort of being a lousy housewife.

“I’m sorry.” He apologizes for the second time in a span of 4 minutes, walks closer to her, a few inches away from grabbing her hips, she immediately hovers her hand on his chest, not even touching him, signaling him to get away.  “Ew, did you smoke?” She covers her nose with the back of her hand, before turning and walking towards the bedroom while shutting off the living room lights. “Clean yourself up and go to bed, and turn of the rest of the lights, we’re paying too much for the bills.”

A small breath of frustration leaves his nose, she slams the door shut which he doesn’t even flinch, he’s so used to her being the worst human being he’s ever met.

He puts his jacket down on the couch and throws himself down on it, his head falls back and his eyes just close for a split second.

Music from the club still playing in his head when he remembers your breath taking figure walking away from him, your back explicitly making a show for him, he wished he could touch your tattoo with his fingertips at least. And what you didn’t see was his eyes roaming around your body, as if he’s not believing his eyes actually seeing someone that looks exactly like the woman he imagined having in his teenage years.

His eyes so passionately with high concentration focus on your calves and thighs, up to your ass that he wants to dive in so desperately, he admires your skin color, the small birthmark on the back of your thigh, your chest rising when your breathing quickens, up to your long neck begging for his fingers to just wrap around and for his lips to suck on, up to your lips pursing with each word and your tongue moving to your lower lip when you look at him, then finally his eyes met yours, and he finds the way you look at him insanely hot, he was never looked at like this, and he’s so positive that you both are on the same page.

His eyebrows scrunch in a frown when he rewinds the night.

Did you just flirt with someone when you’re married?  He thinks before scoffing, totally forgetting the tought that he started filing for divorce a couple weeks ago, without even letting his wife know, it’s the last thing he wanted for his son to experience his parents getting a divorce, but his marriage went down the pooper and it’s just a lost cause.

The lawyer said it’s going to take some time, especially when there’s a baby between them, but still, is he allowed to flirt with someone while still being involved in a marriage?

But fuck, what you actually do to him? He finds himself palming his jeans, slowly but surely unzipping it to make himself more comfortable, the bulge in his pants is way too tight for his liking.

He gets up and makes his way to the bathroom, undressing in seconds and getting under the running warm water, his hands move to his body lotion before he puts some into his palm and rubs it all over his sculpted big body, his hands going slowly to his already erect cock, he grabs the head tightly in between his thumb and index finger, stroking it slowly, making sure to take his time to feel the pleasure, his eyes even close and all he can see is you

Namjoon was a man with a fucking wild brain and an even wilder imagination, sudden scenarios go through his brain, you dancing, even him touching you, his eyes close tighter, not totally satisfied with his vanilla imagination, it needs to be harder.

And in a snap of a finger he can see himself fucking your tight pussy from behind, ruining you and using you to release all his frustration, he imagines kissing your spine and running his tongue on it. His messed up thoughts show him your mouth around his monstrously large dick, choking on it, and that’s when he totally gives in and grows weaker, his muscles relaxing when he shoots continuous white ribbons of cum on the shower floor, his breath going quicker when he releases, he tenses again and a small groan escapes his plump lips when he looks down at his cock still shooting cum, this has never happened with him before and it makes him wonder on the spot, fuck what are you doing to him.

His palm automatically leans on the wall for support, he starts breathing slowly to control his breath. He came hard imagining you in his hands, which if you knew you would be flattered.

He cleans himself up and gets out of the shower, gets dressed and rushes to bed, he has to pick up Jay from Ilsan tomorrow.

[unsolvedjarin]

omg after reading part two of the mentor!seb x ferrari driver!reader fic i NEED something where he actually tries to play matchmaker for reader and mick😭 Like him giving so many hints but reader is just oblivious and Seb decides to take matter into his own hands yk?

Only if you’re open to it ofc! 🥰🥰

BEES, AMONG OTHER THINGS.

pairing: (mick schumacher x driver! reader) (mentor! sebastian vettel x reader)

note: HEY. i havent written anything in weeks and its been KILLING me. ive been so burnt out lately its crazy, but seeing seb in suzuka did give me a bit of motivation (although this is more of a mick-centric fic, my boy deserves it.) anyways sorry for letting this stew for so long anon, hopefully i can write more soon ive missed it tbh

summary: suzuka finds itself not only an interesting spot for bee hotels, but for reunions and confrontations as well.

content warning: none, except its a little all over the place and once again i havent grammar checked this im so sorry it’s three in the morning

previous part, but can be read without <3

When Sebastian invited the grid to his bee hotel opening, he expected maybe five or six people to come, but not this.

Everyone was coming.

And by everyone, I mean everyone. The drivers, the reserves, even the team principals, had all confirmed their appearance for the event. Sebastian knew he was loved by the grid, but the thought of all of them coming together for him still made his heart swell.

It was one in the afternoon, just thirty minutes before they were about to actually start the event. While the participation of the drivers were confirmed, they were still coming in one by one, some later than the others. Sebastian was in a particularly interesting conversation with Fernando about flowers when a poke to his shoulder captured his attention.

He turned around to find you, standing there behind him, waiting for him to finish his conversation with excitement you couldn’t contain. It was the first time you’ve seen each other since Silverstone, and even then you barely had time to talk to each other.

Before he could say anything, you jumped into his arms and hugged him so tight that Sebastian thought he would lose oxygen— but he still hugged you back with equal enthusiasm.

“Sebastian!” you screamed, being spun around once by the man. He missed you so much. Sebastian wasn’t particularly the greatest texter, and calling wasn’t something you were fond of, so besides the occasional visit you barely talked.

“Y/N, I thought you’d never come,” he says with a grin. He knew you were coming, of course. You would never miss out on this. You give him a playful shove, before giving Fernando a quick hug as well. In the year Seb has been gone, you had gotten closer with the Aston Martin driver who replaced him.

Fernando excuses himself quickly after, knowing you and Sebastian had some catching up to do. “Don’t tell me you’ve replaced me with him,” Sebastian jokes the second the Spaniard was out of earshot.

“Why, are you jealous?” you teased. He scoffs in reply, but you could hear the hint of jealousy in his tone. “Don’t worry Seb, while I love his talk about flowers, you talking my ear off about bees still appeals to me more.”

That makes him smile.

“I’m glad you prefer my infodumping, then.”

The fact that you taught him that term makes your grin even wider. “Anytime.”

You wanted to talk with him more, to tell him how you’ve been doing the past few months, but before you could, some PR person swooped in to film some videos with him.

“Ah, sorry liebling,” Sebastian sighs. He leans in and whispers in your ear, “One thing I haven’t missed are these media hungry people.”

You stifle a giggle, before nudging him away from you. “Go on, it’s your event, this is your own doing.”

He rolls his eyes but walks away nonetheless, following the person from the media. Before he moves out of earshot, however, he shouts, “Oh by the way, Mick is here! Don’t be shy, go talk to him.”

Oh the bastard.

Half the grid must have heard that. You look at him with shock and a light blush on your cheeks but are met only with a cheeky grin from the man before he turns around to fully walk away.

Admittedly though, he was right. You hadn’t been talking to Mick much. You had a few lunches with him after Seb retired but without his third wheeling company, it just felt awkward to go out with the reserve driver one on one. You started thinking he just ate with you because he felt bad for you or something of the sort.

“Penny for your thoughts?” A voice snaps you out of your thinking.

“Jesus! Lewis, don’t give me a heart attack like that.”

The Mercedes driver laughs before replying, “Sorry, you just looked tense. Thinking about the race?”

“Not really, just some other stuff.”

“Like what? Like Mick?”

You almost choked on your own saliva right there and then. “Wh- what? What would— haha— make you think that? No that’s crazy, I’m just thinking about the bees! Yeah, because like the bee hotel and stuff I love b—”

“Sebastian wasn’t really quiet talking to you just then, you know.” He comments, cutting you off.

“Oh I’ll kill him.”

“Doubt it, you’ve missed him too much these past months to kill him immediately.”

“Touché, maybe I’ll wait a few more then.”

“Stop avoiding the question, why’re you thinking about Mick?” Lewis asks, not giving the topic up. Oh what the hell, Sebastian trusts him right? So you could trust him.

Thinking of how you could word your thoughts properly, you start, “I kinda— I dunno— I mean he’s a nice guy, he’s pretty sweet, and we’re friends obviously so it’d be—”

“You like him don’t you.” Lewis cuts you off for the second time in a row.

“Yeah.”

“Damn,” he sighs, letting it linger for a moment. “That’s crazy.”

A beat of silence passes. “You’re not gonna say anything else?”

“Say anything else about what?” Sebastian butts in your conversation, clearly just having finished his short interview. He takes his place beside you, scooching in between you and Lewis instead of taking up the free space on the other side.

“Oh, Y/N was just talking about how she likes Mick.”

“Was not!” You exclaim.

“Was too,” Lewis retorts. His teasing never ceased to amuse and annoy you at the same time.

“I think I’m going to believe Lewis on this one. After all, you did tell me, and I quote, you ‘sorta have a little maybe crush’ on Mick.”

You hang your mouth agape incredulously before slapping Seb on the arm, “I told you that in confidence!”

Seb laughs before defending himself, “Well Lewis knows now! Besides, it’s not like you’ve been that discrete about it.”

You look at Lewis who shrugs in reply, “It’s true. Pretty obvious when a Ferrari driver keeps hanging around the Mercedes garage, mate.”

Oh well, cat’s out of the bag. There’s no point in keeping it secret from Lewis now, you think. Putting your head in your hands, you groan, “That’s the problem! I’m always at the Mercedes garage talking to you or Toto or even George but never him!”

“Well why don’t you…talk to him?”

“Great advice Sherlock, gee, got any more good ones for me?” You ask Sebastian sarcastically. While you and Seb banter though, Lewis recalls a conversation he had with Mick one late night back in Singapore.

“Hey Lew, was Y/N here earlier?”

Lewis, who was packing up to go home, redirects his focus to the only remaining guy in the garage save for a few engineers. “Yeah, she visited right after the race to congratulate me. Why’re you looking for her?”

“Oh nothing, just asking.” Mick replies, fiddling with his hands. Even in his tired state, Lewis could tell that there was more the young driver wasn’t saying.

“C’mon, spit it out.” Lewis says, taking a seat on a random chair and patting the one beside him for Mick to take a seat. The younger driver hesitates for a moment before sighing and sitting down. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Better than anyone. Do you know what happened when Alonso crashed his McLaren back in 2015?”

“No, what?”

“Exactly,” Lewis replies with a grin. “So what is it?”

“I…” Mick sighs, unable to find the right words for what he was trying to say. “I think I like Y/N.”

There, it’s out in the open, he thinks. Mick waits for a reply from Lewis, but gets none. “Hello?”

Another beat of silence.

“Okay, this is starting to scare me.”

Lewis finally snaps out of his trance-like state, before getting up and continuing to pack up his things. “Okay.”

“That’s it? Okay?”

“Well I thought it’d be something more secretive,” he says, putting up bunny ears.

“It is secretive,” Mick replies, mocking Lewis’ bunny ears. “No one knows.”

“Eh, I’m not so sure about that mate. I mean if you exclude Sebastian, Fernando, Toto, and myself, then sure, no one knows.”

Oh shit. Was he that obvious? “How- how did you all figure it out?”

“Well for one, if constantly tailing Sebastian and Y/N last year was your attempt at being discreet, then it was a horrible attempt. Second, you need to stop turning red and running away whenever she’s at the garage giving out food and what not. I can’t keep asking her for extra donuts for you forever, you know?”

Mick blushed slightly at the comment, not realizing how every time you came around to the garage he’d been unwillingly avoiding you out of fear you wouldn’t want to talk to him.

Lewis pats Mick on the back, getting ready to leave. “Listen man, if I were you, I’d make a move. That opportunity won’t last forever, plus, it seems like they like you back. Didn’t you guys go out together just the two of you a couple of times?”

Mick shrugged, “I don’t know, I mean I think she did that just because she felt bad for me being alone in the grid and because she missed Sebastian.”

Lewis internally rolled his eyes. He’s seen the way you look at Mick, there’s no way you didn’t like him too. “You have to stop doubting yourself. I mean the worst she can do is say no, right?”

“The worst she can do is avoid me for the rest of my life because I misread all the signs and she actually hates me.”

“That’s the spirit!” Lewis replied sarcastically, before murmuring a goodbye and leaving the garage.

That was weeks ago now, but the conversation was still stuck in Lewis’ head. He’d been right all along, you did like Mick back.

“Hey Seb, can I talk to you in private really quickly?” He speaks up, making you and the retired driver stop your bantering for a moment.

“You can say it in front of Y/N, it’s fine.” Seb replied. He trusted you completely with anything and everything.

“Well not if it’s about her.”

“Hey!” you complain. “Are you openly gossiping about me?”

“Listen, if you want our help, then let us huddle for a minute.”

Rolling your eyes, you sigh and nod at them. You really really liked Mick, but you were too much of a pussy to do anything about it. So if these two old twats could help you, then so be it.

Lewis pulls Seb to the side for a moment, inhaling deeply before talking softly so you couldn’t hear. “Okay, so here’s the thing. Mick told me he likes Y/N.”

Sebastian whips his head to face Lewis, “Holy shit, I knew it. I knew he wasn’t going out with us all the time last year for no reason.”

“Yeah, he’s not so discreet. Here’s the problem though, he firmly believes Y/N may hate him, and you know that Y/N believes Mick only likes her as a friend.”

“So what you’re saying is they’re both hopeless?”

“Without our help, basically yes.”

“God I can’t believe they haven’t caught a clue,” Sebastian sighs. “I even excused myself from multiple meals so I could leave the two of them alone even for a few minutes.”

“You’re telling me mate, I basically had to shove Mick towards her whenever she was at the garage or in hospitality.”

Meanwhile, while the two men were devising on their own, you were getting antsy. What could they possibly be coming up with? You didn’t really want to think about it too much, so you decided to take a walk around the track. After all, the event was about to start, so you might as well familiarize yourself with your surroundings.

You went through the unpainted bee hotels, admiring their woodwork and the effort it must’ve taken to make them. Sebastian had sent you a text at three in the morning yesterday saying “Finished! :-)” with a picture of the bee hotels attached, so you knew he put hard work into this project. You were happy that he was doing something he loved while retired, but at the same time you missed him terribly on the grid. It was lonely, you will admit, without him by your side. Sure you had your teammate Charles and the support of your fellow drivers, but it never felt like anyone truly knew you on the track besides Seb.

Stuck in your thoughts, you failed to notice the man who was walking up behind you mustering the courage to strike a conversation. You turn around to check out another bee hotel when you bump straight into Mick walking up to you.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

“Ow—” you hold your head in pain, which you bumped into the bee hotel roof when you recoiled backwards from the hit. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

Great, Mick thought. Now what?

You’ve made a fool of yourself, congratulations, you thought.

Sebastian was about to walk over to see what all the commotion was about, when Lewis put a hand out and stopped him. “Look who bumped into her.”

Sebastian squinted a little— his eyesight had gotten worse but he refused to get glasses— and grins when he realizes who it is. “Best leave them to it then, I have an event to organize anyways.”

Meanwhile, Mick had no clue what to do. You were holding your head in pain, with your eyes closed trying to regain stability from the dizziness, and he was just standing there awkwardly trying to figure out what the right move was. Should he ask you again if you were alright? Should he hold you to stabilize you?

Well, why not both. Without thinking, he holds your shoulders, crouching down a little to look you in your eye, and asking a simple “You okay?”

You open your eyes, squinting because of the sun, and are met with a set of beautiful blue ones staring at you. Holy fucking shit. Now you don't know what to do.

“Uh— yeah, just hit my head. No biggie honestly, all good here,” you reply awkwardly. God, was it this hard to talk to him when Sebastian was around?

Mick lets go of your shoulders— you miss his touch already— and straightens up, nodding. “Good. Sorry for hitting you, I thought you heard me walking up.”

“No, it’s my fault honestly. Was stuck in my own thoughts. Nice that you pulled me out,” you joked, praying to whatever higher power was listening that it stuck.

Thankfully it did, and Mick let out a small giggle at your quip. It was enough for your stomach to do flips. And even though you had no clue, you joking around with him made his stomach do the same thing too. The simple interaction was enough to make him think that maybe you weren’t just hanging around with him before because you pitied him.

“You know,” Mick starts, before he loses confidence to breach the topic. He was here anyway, so might as well. “You’re always at the Mercedes garage but I never see you. I am sorry about that.”

You raised an eyebrow at him in confusion. Why was he sorry? You were the one who avoided him out of nervousness whenever you were there.

“You don’t have to be sorry about that, honestly, that’s my fault anyway. Same with our lunches before, I’m sorry we did those less and less. I guess I got too caught up in the races. We should have another one here in Japan!” You add the last part haphazardly, not really thinking about what you’re saying because if you do you’ll lose confidence.

It was too late when you realized what you said, and terrified to see Mick’s reaction to the invitation, you stare at anything but him. Wow, the sky was blue today. How interesting.

Mick, on the other hand, was frozen on the spot. Did he hear that correctly? Were you inviting him to lunch for the first time in months?

Before the reserve driver could get his hopes up, however, he realized what was different this time. Sebastian was around.

Oh. Maybe that was the only reason you invited him this time around. Because, again, like before, you felt sorry for him being alone and you had the confidence to ask him because Sebastian was here.

“Would…Sebastian be coming?” He asked. He wasn’t a religious man by any means, but he begged God at that moment you would say no. He had nothing against the retired driver of course, he was like an uncle to him, but it would determine— for him at least— if you were going out with him out of pity or because you actually wanted to.

You, on the other hand, had a completely different interpretation of that question.

Did Mick not want to have lunch with you without Sebastian because he didn’t want to spend time with you? Did he feel like you were too awkward? Too weird? You stopped yourself before you could spiral even more.

“I mean, do you want him to?”

“Honestly? No.” Mick hears himself say without thinking. His eyes widened a bit at the fact that he said that aloud, making you giggle. It lifts the tension a bit and the air feels freer talking to him.

“Tsk tsk, I’ll make sure to tell him that.”

“Please don’t, I’ll never hear the end of it. I just meant—” Mick pauses for a second, finding it difficult to word his thoughts.

Oh fuck it. Fuck it all. “I want it to be you, just you.”

Oh.

Oh.

“Oh.” Before Mick can regret saying anything and repeatedly apologize for the implications of what he said, you tug on his shirt a little to get him to look at you. “Me too.”

He lets out a sigh of relief, laughing a bit at himself. “Thank god, I thought I made the wrong move there.”

“God no,” you laugh out. “I’m glad you said that honestly, I thought you just hung out with me before for Sebastian.”

Mick raised his eyebrows in confusion. Was that what you’d been thinking this whole time? “I thought you were just hanging out with me because you felt bad I was alone without Seb.”

This time you both look at each other, confused. You had both gotten it completely wrong.

The absurdity of it all makes you burst out laughing, and you try to cover it up with your hand but to no avail. “I’m sorry I just— ha!— I can’t believe I’ve been reading it wrong this whole time! I even avoided you in the garages because I thought you felt awkward around me.”

“I hid whenever you were at the garage because I thought you didn’t wanna talk to me,” Mick replied bashfully, scratching the back of his neck. “In hindsight, that was pretty stupid, I suppose I wouldn’t ever know if you liked talking to me or not if I kept avoiding you.”

“Hold on, is that why Lewis always asked for extra food when I came around?”

“Yeah,” he answered, feeling embarrassed. It all felt so foolish now.

“That was stupid,” you tease. “So…what now?”

“I suppose we can just,” Mick gestures aimlessly with his hands. “Restart.”

You smile at him, liking the simplicity of the idea. After dancing around each other for a year, this is exactly what you wanted. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

“What you were saying earlier, lunch? I know a good place. It’s pretty far from the track, but they have the best ramen and— hello Seb…?”

Unbeknownst to you, Sebastian had slowly inched himself closer to where you two were standing, trying to overhear your conversation. He was now stood a few meters away from you, pretending to be taking care of his bee hotel.

“You sneaky bastard!” you exclaim, slapping him on his shoulder for the second time that day. “How long have you been eavesdropping on our conversation?”

“I just got here!” Sebastian replied, trying to defend himself. He’d actually been standing there for a couple minutes, but if none of you had noticed, then it was better for him to not bring it up. “Anyway, I came to say we’re starting the event. Charles is looking for you at the Ferrari station, Y/N.”

Sebastian moves to leave, but turns back around, standing beside you. “And Mick, if it’s no bother, you could come with me and Y/N to Disneyland on Tuesday. Only if you’d like, of course.”

“We’re going to Disneyland?” You ask, but a quick glance at Sebastian's expression and you realize what he was trying to do. “Oh! Yeah, we totally planned on going to Disneyland. You should come with us.”

“Yeah! Sure, I have nothing to do anyways. And lunch on Monday, Y/N?” Mick replies. You give him a soft smile and nod in response.

Seb looks at you in confusion, “Am I part of these lunch plans?”

“No.”

“Great to know. Anyways, to the Ferrari station liebe, chop chop,” Seb retorts, putting his arm around you to pull you towards the station. As much as he wanted you and Mick to talk more, he also wanted his event to get going.

“Talk later!” you shout, being practically dragged by Sebastian. Mick laughs at the sight, waving a goodbye to you and the retired driver. He felt like he won the lottery. You might not like him the way he liked you, but this was a start. This meant that you hung around him for him.

“Was the plan you and Lewis came up with simply inviting Mick to go to Disneyland?” You ask, the second you were far away enough from Mick.

Sebastian shrugs, “Yeah, basically.”

“Oh you pricks. Thank God I didn’t rely on you two then.”

“Hey! We tried,” Seb remarked. “But we saw you two getting along without our help so we decided to leave you two to it. What did you even talk about?”

“Our shared hatred for you,” you replied with no hesitation. You look over at Sebastian with a grin, watching him roll his eyes, smiling.

“Well if that’s what it took for you two to talk, then I’d happily be the butt of your conversations.”

God. Why did he have to be so nice about it? “I’m just kidding Seb, we just cleared up some misunderstandings. Honestly we should’ve talked sooner, it was such a relief to find out I’d just been overthinking our interactions.”

“Like you do with half of all things, schatz,” Sebastian says softly, smiling at you. He was right, you did overthink too much.

“I know,” you sigh. “I’m trying to change.”

“That’s great, but you know what you should try first before that?” Seb asks with a playful look on his face. He comes to a stop in front of a bee hotel and grabs a paintbrush from beside it, putting it in your hands. “You should try participating in the event.”

“Cheeky bastard,” you mutter, grinning. You didn’t even notice you had walked all the way to the Ferrari station until then. You greet Charles, who was already there, before facing Sebastian again. “Still can’t believe you and Lewis’ plan was just Disneyland. Remind me to never trust you ever again.”

“Love you too,” Seb retorts sarcastically, grinning as he walks away to assist the other drivers. You shake your head with a smile, before facing the bee hotel again. Cheeky bastard.

Sebastian and Lewis had planned more than just Disneyland of course, they weren’t stupid. But the first phase of their plan was complete. Sebastian smiled to himself as he watched Mick talking to Lewis at the Mercedes station, ready to operate the second part of their ‘genius’ plan.

It was going to be a long, interesting week for all of them.

[killxio]

ceo baby daddy eren.

word count: 1,635 [ 6 min read] | ✪ content warnings: pregnancy, slightly detailed mention of nsfw, writer who still thinks they’re funny, accidental pregnancy, breastfeeding

babydaddy!eren x pregnant!reader / babydaddy!eren x mom!reader / husband!eren x pregnant!reader / husband!eren x mom!reader

✭ you and eren’s journey after an accidental pregnancy.

babydaddy!eren , who is the ceo at the company of a job you just started working.

babydaddy!eren , who you just so happened to have a two (and a half?) night stand with a week before you started your position and realized who he was.

babydaddy!eren , who’s apartment you nervously stand outside of with a positive pregnancy test and a plan to negotiate and vanish.

“look, im sure you’re going to suggest i abort or adopt. i’m sorry but i’m not willing to do either, i’m fine working to support the baby myself and i’ll move to the other side of the country and be out of your hair.” you babble, really only telling him because your friends say he had the right to know. you had no expectations for a successful ceo to put his life on hold to have a baby with a stranger.

babydaddy!eren who scares you with the way he is staring directly at you, leaning against a wall opposite of you, not saying a thing for awhile.

“no. i wouldn’t ask that of you if that’s not what you’d like. i will never abandon a child of mines. im changing your title in my company to a personal assistant. moving your office closer to mines, i want to be around if you need anything.”

babydaddy!eren who always seems to be hovering around your office and demanding you get lunch with him, a way of personally ensuring your fed.

babydaddy!eren who secretly enjoys watching the swell of your stomach as time goes by. unnoticeable to anyone else at work at first. then poking out at him as he watches from your couch as you get ready to introduce him to your family unit over dinner. then having to curl around it to give you a kiss after your first official date night. then soothing it late at night after you’re stirring because baby yaeger is treating your insides like a jungle gym.

babydaddy!eren who moves you into his penthouse because he “is uncomfortable with the thought of you and his child living separately after birth“

“you’re in pain postpartum, alone with a baby and you expect me to only stop by? how do i protect my family if i’m treating them like a 9-5? you already practically live here, y/n.” you finally agree. after making him agree to a dog sometime in the future.

babydaddy!eren who buys the three of you a house, insisting it’s time to mature and the best environment for the most important woman in his life and his son.

babydaddy!eren who digs out holes in the sand so you can rest on your stomach comfortably at the beach.

babydaddy!eren who keeps tiny copies of the photos from that day in his wallet and his desk at work. not just of the bump, but of you. your smile. your beauty.

babydaddy!eren who is there to relieve any ache and pain as best he can, no matter the hour. he lifts your bump or massages you at an instant. (and give the best late night head but that’s neither here nor there)

babydaddy!eren who’s calm after you go into labor late one night, the house dimly lit by candle and moonlight.

“rennie?” he’s up after few light shakes, becoming a light sleeper after you started sleeping over consistently.

his tired eyes peak at you through unruly strands of bed head, shifting into concern after seeing the way you double over and groan out in pain.

“sweetheart? is it your water?”

you can only nod in response, clasping onto his forearm as he sits up in bed. he leans you into his chest, wiping the tears from your cheeks and quietly going over the game plan with you while instructing you to breathe.

babydaddy!eren who was absolutely amazing at directing the nurses rushing around you and maintaining the calm energy in the hospital room.

babydaddy!eren who you catch early in the morning, standing over your sons hospital cradle and just balling in awe.

“elias yeager..” he mumbles to himself, repeatedly, etching this image into his brain.

babydaddy!eren who does the same thing at home, spending hours staring at you knocked out and the tiny curly haired baby laying between the two of you in the in-bed-bassinet.

babydaddy!eren who learned how to make padsicles for you and makes sure you’re always stocked postpartum.

babydaddy!eren who sucks at swaddling but is s-tier at a quick change after a spit up.

babydaddy!eren who has to have your son within five feet at all times. babywearing, skin to skin, working with him in his lap, at his desk, in his home office. he is a sucker for physical intimacy and hated being away from his people.

you’re in the tub of your grand master bathroom, jet feature on low with your son on your chest and a speaker playing your favorite RnB playlist. this is more of a leisure bath rather than a cleaning bath, no bubbles as you don’t want any harsh chemicals on babies skin. your son starts to fuss and you offer him your breast, nursing him back into silence.

“where’s my invite?” yaeger asks from the doorframe, smiling at the two of you. you beam back at him.

“look who’s back from his meeting? hi daddy.” you say to both your son and him.

“hi mommy. hi eli bee-li.” he says, now kneeling at the side of the tub, kissing you, your son and then up to your collarbone. he stands up and begins stripping. his tie.. then his work shirt, and his pants. his boxers go with.

“hey, my eyes are up here.” you raise your gaze and find him staring directly at you already.

“oh shut it.” you say through a smirk, scooting forward to allow him space to climb in behind the two of you.

you lean your head into the space between his neck and collar bone.

he soaks this up, these are the moments he lives for: his girlfriends hair running down his chest, he can feel both her and his son’s breathing, and the warmth of the water enveloping them.

babydaddy!eren who gives a speech thanking you for all you given him at your sons small, intimate first birthday.

babydaddy!eren who lives in bliss everyday for two years, excited to come home to his girl and baby boy.

babydaddy!eren who realizes one day how unfair to you it is that you chase after his little hyperactive son, cook for him, kiss him all over, and upkeep the house all without giving you a ring.

fiancée!eren who proposed intimately on a beach, with the help of your two nearly-three-year-old.

“so, you know what we’re here to do?”

your sons head of medium brown curls only nod at his father, smiling behind his pacifier.

“atta boy. now go hide behind the rock, mommy is coming.”

you join eren for what is supposed to be a normal, romantic beach-side dinner. a few minutes in..

“mama?” your son muffles behind a pacifier, having appeared beside you.

“elias, what are you doing here baby boy?” you softly take out his pacifier.

“dada hav a ques’on.”

as you pick him up and place him on your lap, you shoot eren a confused look.

things are starting to click as eren walks over to your side of the table, kneeling infront of the two of you as your son hands him a black box. (that you somehow didn’t notice despite elias forgetting to hold the box behind him instead of infront of him like eren instructed)

you smile the brightest you ever have, watching as eren reveals an absolutely gorgeous ring and asks,

“y/n, will you bless me with the honor of calling you my wife and marry me?”

“oh. my god. eren. yes. yes!!!”

husband!eren who probably put another little curly haired baby in you on your wedding night.

despite you being bone-tired, eren gives you the most life shattering dick he ever has. your wedding nails leave swollen, and at points bleeding, cuts down his back. he has taken you on every surface in the path from the door to your bedroom, switching from tender to ragdolling you like a fucking madman.

you limped half of the day until you walked it out the next day.

husband!eren who picks you up and twirls you in delight when you get home from your honeymoon and show him a positive pregnancy test two weeks later.

husband!eren who is happy to say “my wife and i are here for our __ week checkup.”

husband!eren who, if you thought was calm the first time, is absolutely serene. you had absolutely no worries besides where the hell the anesthesiologist was with your epidural. everything was taken care of. eren has always been like this, between his upbringing and life, eren did not feel equipped to handle a family but molded himself due to his work ethic. he worked so hard to give his family, most importantly his children a calm and stable upbringing so you’re actually the one more likely to freak out in emergency situations.

husband!eren who sits at your bedside with your son in his lap, answering all his questions about his new little sister, admiring his family and it’s new addition.

husband!eren who tells his 4 year old son and 2 month old daughter milestones of you twos relationship as bedtime stories.

husband!eren who took over the small start up you started before working for him for more income, keeping it in your name but managing it and growing it into a massive success. you carried and care for his children, making you a millionaire is the least he can do.

husband!eren who reminds you everyday how thankful he is for the family and love you’ve given him.

[kniveschaudefender]

hi !! can you do a gideon graves x male!reader who owns a flowershop? (if you dont do male readers thats ok lol, gn!reader is good too)

Better than Any Boquet

(a Gideon Graves x male flowershop owner! reader)

EEE MY FIRST REQUEST !! (TYSM ANON IM LITERALLY SO HAPPY ABOUT THIS) ALSO I DO ALL GENDER READERS !! SO MALE READER ISNT A PROBLEM AT ALL !!! ^_^ (ALSO I WILL SAY THAT THIS SUUUUUPER LONG. I DIDNT KNOW HOW TO MAKE IT ANY SHORTER BUT PLS DONT BLAME ME IM BARELY STARTING 🙁 ) BUT I RLLY DO HOPE U ENJOY BC THIS HONESTLY TOOK ME SO LONG TO PUT TOTHER. BUT THANK U AGAIN !!! <3333 (also this isnt proofread so)

Gideon had been acting..strange lately. The league noticed, his employees noticed, even he noticed ! But, nobody could seem to pinpoint what exactly it was.

He had been going out more, being a little bit less harsh on certain people, and the biggest thing people noticed was the amount of flowers around now. Of course nobody dared to ask, heavens no ! But still, it was strange. It’s not like he was a big fan of the flowers himself, but for some reason he had so many around.

Eventually, it had started as a routine. Day after day he would do the exact same thing ! Saying he needs to go do something ‘important’ out, taking his leave, and ending up in the local flowershop. But why ? Its not like he was there for the flowers, no. He had a better reasons.

He walks in, his mind somewhere else before hearing something that completely snapped him out of it. A simple, “Good morning, Mr, Graves!”

< Thats > what he was here for.

The nice owner, thats what he was here for! How could we forget? How could he forget such a nice boy, the same boy who helps him every day no matter how many questions he asks or how many times he ends up repeating them. He even remembered his name! Not by the fact that he’s THE Gideon Graves, but by the fact that he comes in every day to his shop !

Will he ever admit its for him? Maybe later. But right now? Certainly not ! He can’t lose such a ‘friendship’ with this lovely boy he’s met ! For now, he simply comes in, looking for him at the desk in the front. Asking things such as “How do I take care of these?” or “What type of flowers would go best with this event ?” . Simple things to hide the fact that he’s only there to see him and to hear him talk.

After about an hour of mindless questions and small talk, he comes home, once again with a boquet of flowers in hand. He couldn’t help it ! He HAD to buy flowers every time he’d go in there, or he’d leave feeling a bit bad. So, there he goes, grabbing another empty vase and putting some water in it, then placing the flowers inside.

He sighed, looking around at all the flowers he now had. How long could he keep this up ? How long could he push his feelings for this boy away and just keep going and buying flowers, never making a move?

It honestly didn’t take long, he was running out of room for flowers and was so head over heels he couldn’t help himself anymore.

Though, for the first time he couldn’t help but feel a bit afraid. Would you like him? I mean yeah, he does have quite the name and ego, not to mention the billions he has in cash, but would you really find him attractive? He guessed he’d just have to find out.”

He spent about a week thinking about this.

Infact, he spent the whole time trying to distract himself, he had forgotten to go to the flowershop. After the week, he had finally decided to go say something. Thats when he remembered. He spent the whole week away from YOUR presence after being there non-stop for a few months!

Now he was really worried. He probably made you sick thinking something must have happened since he stopped coming for a whole week!

So, off he went! Sprinting down the street to the flowershop, holding on to his glasses for life. His plan? Say everything through a letter. He couldnt get himself to say it to your face, no matter how big of an ego he had.

He comes in, pushing the door open, almost falling over as he catches his breath before looking up. And there you were, making direct eye contact with him as you out new fresh flowers in a certain section.

“Mr. Graves! There you are! I was wondering where you’d been.” You say, giving him that same, sweet smile.

“Please..call me Gideon.” He says, closing the door behind him as he comes in entirely. “I have something..a bit more important for you this time.” “Anything! What do you need, Gideon?” He liked how you had listened without a question.

“I need a boquet of roses, the best ones you’ve got, and I need you to put this letter in there. But, I’d like you to read it first.” He says, handing the note to him. “I need these by 5 p.m today, and I’d like for you to write me a reply on the letter of what you think.”

With that he mutters a “Thank you” and runs out quickly, not even giving you a chance to respond.

You stand there, a bit dumbfounded. But, there was no need to go chase him down and question him. It seemed simple enough. So, you grab the roses, picking the best ones as he’d asked. Then, the letter.

You grab the letter, opening it slowly, then is when you get met with something..suprising.

“Sorry about the leave, I couldn’t be here for this. All these visits were never about the flowers, it was about you. I wanted to get closer, but never knew how. I’ve liked you for all these months, and never knew how to truely say it. You were always too kind, and quite the handsome man too, giving me that smile every day I walked in, no matter how clueless I was about anything. Especially the flowers. But you always listened to me. But, I do love you and everything you do a lot. And I would love to have you by my side. Because to me, you’re better than any boquet.”

[yesimwriting]

MA'M I LOVE YOUR BEST FRIEND FELIX WRITINGS BUT MY JEALOUS AND SOFTY SHORT ASS CAN'T HANDLE IT 😭 IM HURTING MYSELF BUT IT HURTS SO GOOD, LIKE IF I WAS BEST FRIEND Y/N ID BE BAWLING MY EYES OUT AFTER SEEING HIM WITH ANOTHER GIRL LIKE- WHY IS ALL OF THIS SO CARDIGAN BY TS CODED-

a/n i love taylor and taylor related angst and i get the jealousy thing,, but i think the thing with bestfriend!felix is that he's so obvious about his priorities that by the time reader can register jealousy,, felix is already there

so here's a drabble

----

Going out tonight wasn't your idea. A week of long lectures and even longer homework had drained you. But Felix wanted to...and you...You wanted to be around Felix.

Maybe Farleigh's comments about you following Felix around like a puppy aren't as exaggerated as they feel when you're sober. Ugh. The thought of Farleigh being right gives that pinch of irritation something to latch onto.

"They have those drinks you like." The voice is clear despite the base of the music that you can still hear from right outside the club. You turn your head away from the group of stragglers hanging around the outdoor bar. "Had. I got the last one."

You grin at Felix, any lingering angst not exactly evaporating into the cool night air, but the shift is enough to make the smile feel unforced. "Lucky."

He's finally within arm's reach, a fact that he takes advantage of immediately. Felix's palm settles against your shoulder, his thumb dragging across your skin. "Extremely." There's a fondness there that chips away at what's left of your irritation. "Here." You take the glass from him. "Sam almost tackled another bar tender to get the last of the simple syrup."

Ironically, the sip that's halfway down your throat seems to lose any hints of sweetness as soon as the words come out of Felix's mouth. You've met Sam, and while you don't dislike her, you're not sure the neutrality is mutual.

It's a fact you don't dwell. Sam's a bottle blonde bar tender who looks like she was born to walk around in low cut tank tops and cut off shorts. Not that her being pretty matters, but there's an edge to her beauty that implies an effortless coolness that doesn't usually meld with who you are. It's no one's fault. You think those types of girls are charming and fun in a way that's somehow even bolder than the friends that you consider wild. It's just never been a mutual admiration.

And Sam's been hanging around Felix a lot lately, showing up at parties, staying later than anyone else besides you. They've gone home together a few times. Felix hasn't said too much about that, but that doesn't indicate anything. You guys don't talk about that kind of stuff. Even best friends as close as you two have boundaries.

Not that it matters if Felix is with someone like Sam. She seems fun and pretty and bold and--the total opposite of you.

That hits you like a thumb jabbing into a bruise. Since when is Felix's constantly rotating door of flings a sore point? When he pawns you off on Farleigh--even when he's not in the mood for you--so he can have a moment in the employee bathroom.

"Y'okay?"

You nod, "Yeah." Felix's eyebrows pinch together, a barely there implication of concern that's almost ignorable beneath the poor lighting. "Everything's just kind of hitting me a little."

He nods, "Do you need to sit?" Felix's hold on your shoulder tightens. "Is that why you came outside?"

"Uh--no." The response feels flat. "I mean--yeah, I wanted some air, but I don't feel sick or anything."

He watches you openly for what feels like its own eternity. You're not sure what he's looking for, but you must not pass the inspection because he frowns. "Okay." As if to validate Felix's attempt at letting your mood go, you bring your glass back to your lips. "You know--if you're not feeling--if you want to go, you can tell me."

"I know." You do know that. Felix has always been good about listening, about wanting to make sure you're comfortable.

You take another sip of your drink. Of course Sam's good at mixing drinks. You can picture her tripping over herself, rushing to grab the nearly empty bottle of syrup and risking making an enemy of a coworker to avoid having to tell Felix no.

Felix takes a step forward, his hand sliding across your back so that his arm can settle around your shoulders. It's instinct to lean into the contact. He's warm in a way that rivals the buzz in your system. "When we do go, we're going to have to go out the back way."

You let your head rest against his side. "Why?"

"Don't think Sam's going to be going out of her way to get me drinks again."

You crane your neck to look up at him, "What? Why?"

His eyes meet yours, and then he's dropping his gaze to the floor. "You have become such a gossip."

A sound that's a combination between a scoff and a laugh tumbles past your lips. "Have not."

"You and Farleigh," Felix continues, "You two always need to ask, always need to have an opinion."

"Not true," you defend weakly, "If I was a gossip I'd talk about how slutty--"

You cut yourself off, regretting your phrasing as soon as the word is out. Felix pulls back slightly, mouth falling open in exaggerated offense. "You called me a slut?"

"No," you defend yourself through a laugh, "I was saying that you have been slutty." Felix raises his eyebrows at you. "It's different." Felix's eyes narrow in an attempt to offset the smile tugging at his lips. "It is."

"Yeah?" He leans forward with no warning, his lips pressing against your cheek. That kiss is followed by another. Again and again, each more affectionate and touchy than the last.

His lips brush against your jaw. "Fe-lix." It wants to be a warning, but the nervous giggle that breaks his name into two makes coming off as threatening impossible.

"What?" He hums, his lips finding your neck. "If I'm that slutty, we should have a go at it."

You laugh, ignoring the heat burning its way up your neck because it's just Felix. "There's a bathroom inside."

Felix stills before pulling away enough to look you in the eye. There's the faintest flush tinging his skin. You laugh again, this time the sound fuller. It's nice to see flashes of the softer side of Felix while out in the real world. Felix laughs with you.

You tilt your head, pressing a kiss against his cheek. "For you, I'd spring for a hotel room."

"Now I feel special."

----

taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains @ker0senebunny

[asmoslverboy]

To love the devil; Dottore x GN!Reader.

He is who he has always been. Despite the centuries he's had to accept and embrace his darkness, though he claims otherwise, he can't help but try to hide away from you. Neither one of you's a saint, but through his eyes, you're an angel. CW! Angst, immortal × immortal, Dottore is referred to as "Zandik", self sabotage on Dottore's part♡, dottore being emotional (ooc tbh, im self projecting on him)??

932 words

Dottore has many sides to him that he'd rather hide off from you. For someone so egotistical, so full of pride, you'd never expect him to be ashamed of who he is, who he has become. And he's not— shame, embarrassment— those aren't emotions that he's familiar with.

But fear, now that's a whole other conversation. It's not like you don't know what he's done, the things he's guilty of, his list of crimes, and of unethical desires he's tried to fulfill. It's not like you haven't personally seen him drown in sin over the 400 years of knowing him.

"Zandik, did I upset you?" You ask him as you're sitting on top of his desk while he's in his chair, looking up at your figure. He's been quite distant lately, more than usual. You could easily assume that he was having one of his isolative episodes, but he doesn't seem to be avoiding anyone other than you.

"Hm?" That's all you get from him, accompanied by a raise of his right brow, but his focus soon goes back to his notes, going over them, rambling about how he needs his next project to be the embodiment of perfection. Creating an aranara, was it? Some things, it seems, never change. He was so obsessed with the idea of capturing one of those little creatures of nature, back when the two of you were still students.

The next few hours pass by in the same cycle of events. You try talking to him, he shrugs it off and continues digging his head deep into his research files.

Do not expect any more of him for the next days, weeks even. It's like your existence no longer matters to him. All you see is the man that you've been with throughout basically your whole entire lives, acting as if you were a mere accomplice. He has repeated this type of scheme in the past, more than once, but it never lasted as long as it did this time.

Each of your attempts of getting a simple response out of him, one that requires actual words instead of some grunt or hum, has gone to waste.

You're unsure of what to do. Should you be more worried for him or for yourself? Is this the time it all ends between the two of you? Should you really just give up on him at this point?

"Zandik," you called out, but not to him, nor to anyone else. Sitting by a lake, all by yourself, no one to your company, other than the thousand microorganisms that lived and thrived in the waters. "I wish you would just speak to me."

It's not like you lack friends to confide in. But would anyone be as understanding towards him— the one who was labeled a monster, by all who've known him and by himself first and foremost— after you tell them about his present behaviors?

You laid your head on the cold, wet grass. Surrounded by nature, the collective of existence. You could never be alone in this world, not as long as you believe that everything around you is as alive as you are.

But are you truly alive? If, in the past, your definition of the word was to express yourself in every way, to feel and to be felt, would you consider yourself alive at this very moment?

Another day has come— it seems you had fallen asleep on the ground. You awoke, a couple ducks quaking as they poke you with their beaks. They didn't mean to hurt you, though. And if you think about it, your beloved is much like these ducks. He does what he thinks would best help you. Even if it has opposing effects.

"You shouldn't stay," he told you, his tone felt like it could cut through metal. You were back at his office again, figuring you could at least help him out at work, if unable to help his inner world. He was taking off his gloves as he was done inspecting some ancient Khaenri'ahn technology items. "Do you want me to—"

"I've given you every reason to leave. Yet you still cling to me like a bloodthirsty eel." He cut you off. He has never spoken to you like this (not whilst he was sober, nor whilst he was in his right mind). He was calm, but he spoke as if you were an object to be dismissed.

"Do you not love me anymore?" You wanted to ask him so, so desperately. But the potential answers to that question shook you to your very core. So you dared not speak.

Such conflict within you. Shall you leave him be? Shall you listen to his words instead of pursuing him any further? You're painfully aware of his nature; to push you away when he needs your presence most.

But it's been going on for far too long, has it not? If he's not allowing you to help him, then really, what else is there to do, if not fend for yourself?

"You deserve better," he wrote to you, in a letter that'll never reach your sight. "Your love should not be limited to one who can not accept, nor react to it," he wrote again. But who is he trying to fool? He knows that this piece of paper, along with all the other ones he's tried to write, will be crunched up and disposed of.

Not even once, for the sake of the person who's loved him through it all, will he allow himself to be heard.

[acidxinxwonderland]

Heyoo, Im needy for some angst, so can I get "how the glamrocks would react to accidentally hurting them"? Like for example roxy accidentally scratching them, or Monty losing control with his anger?? You don't have too tho!!! Thank you :)

This is a VERY late response to this ask, I apologize! This sounds like a very fun, yet also sad idea. Let's start, shall we? Starting least angsty to most.

TW: Choking, slight blood, shoving, head getting bonked, just overall angsty for the last two.

Glamrock Chica

During night watch you hear rummaging in the kitchen, steeling your nerves and going to check, Chica is there going through the trash.

She bawks and throws a can straight at your head

"Oh my stars?! Are you alright?"

She feels incredibly guilty, keeping you company through the shift

She constantly checks the growing bump on your forehead

The next night, you find a neatly packaged cupcake. The perfect apology

Glamrock Freddy

Freddy is having a slight malfunction in his arm. You are the one to repair him.

"Please be cautious. I feel... Strange."

You weren't cautious. You failed to reconnect a wire.

With a roar you've never heard before, the wind is knocked out of your lungs from a great force. It wasn't until you are on the ground that you realized he used his other arm to shove you away.

There is a stunned silence that falls between you too. He can't believe he did such a thing, he felt as if he wasn't in control. He hates being out of control.

"Superstar, I am so sorry." Remorse is heavy in his tone, reaching out to you with the hand that just pushed you away.

You're bewildered, out of all the animatronics, Freddy has never laid a hand on you in such an aggressive way, you shrink from his touch.

Watching you shrink away, his hand closes, simulating a sigh as he his head falls. "I don't know what came over me. I..." He trails off.

Your eyes soften, getting up from your spot on the ground. "It's alright bud, you told me to be cautious."

As you continue working on him you have to constantly reassure him that you didn't see him any differently. Although for the next few weeks whenever he brought his hand up near you, you can't stop yourself from flinching away.

He can't bear seeing you afraid of him. Although it takes you weeks to get over it, it takes him months upon months.

Roxanne Wolf

On patrol once again, you hear crying off in the distance while roaming down the large, dark corridors of the Pizzaplex. The closer you get, the easier it was to make out. It was Roxy...

You urge on until you reach the staff's bathroom, entering to see the animatronic wolf near a mirror, covering her eyes as she let out heart wrenching sounds.

"Roxy...?" You ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Her hands are quick to fall from her face, staring at you through the mirror with glowing eyes. "What are you doing here?! Get out."

There is nothing but concern on your face as you walk towards her with slow steps, as if trying to sooth a cornered animal.

Getting in her space was your worst mistake. "I said get out!" She pivots towards you, swinging her arm at and you thought it was game over.

Your eyes screwed tight, you didn't even realize. As you slowly open them, relieved to know you are alive, you feel warmth trickle down your cheek, dripping down onto your uniform.

You both now stare at each other in complete disbelief. Roxy takes a step forward, labored breath leaving her voice box, something you've never heard before.

"I..." Her voice falters, reaching up to collect some of the blood on her finger. "I didn't mean to."

She hurt her number one, it didn't matter what she was upset about before. How could she do this to you of all people?

You grab her large hand, tears welling up in your eyes as you try to push past your own feelings. "I know you didn't Roxy."

You stayed in the bathroom all night, sitting on the sinks counter while she sunk down onto her knees in front of you. You stroked her hair as she cried, her head resting on your lap. You barely understand what she says through her sobs besides murmured apologies.

Montgomery Gator

You were tasked to check on Monty during one of his many melt downs

He was in a rage due to an argument with Freddy, yelling and punching the wall

You are petrified as you go into his green room

He immediately senses your arrival, halting for a moment to stare at you with eyes filled to the brim with unbridled rage. There was simulated huffs coming from him, as if he was ready to attack any moment.

"What are you doing here brat?"

Monty sees you as a close friend, one of the only people he trusted in the Pizzaplex. He didn't want you to see him like this.

"I'm here to help."

"Help?" His fists clench at his side. "Who said I wanted any help?"

"Well... Management sent me in but I also-"

Your words are cut off from a loud growl of distress. He was hurt, hurt by the fact that you didn't come here on your own terms and angry at management to send you in when he knew he was out of control.

He punches a hole in the wall, he can feel his fingers malfunctioning. It was as painful as it could be for something made of metal. "God damn it!"

He can't hurt you, he can't hurt you, he can't. He would never forgive himself, he won't do it.

It was as if he blacks out, and once he comes to, his hand is around your neck and you're up against the wall.

You're struggling to breath, suspended in the air as you weakly claw at his forearm.

He sees that pleading look in your eyes, and never has he been more terrified.

He lets go of you, you fall to the ground on your knees, gasping out.

Monty sees those marks on your neck, he sees the damage he has done. He can't believe he would ever do such a thing, not to you. You. He...

He hates himself for it.

"Leave."

You don't think twice, managing to get up on your feet and stumbling out of the green room as you massage the forming bruise on your skin.

He sits there in the green room, quiet as quiet can be as he thinks about what he has done. He looks down at the hand, remembering feeling your pulse against his finger tips.

He has to stay away from you now. He must. The only one he could trust. Yet he lost yours, and there was no coming back from it.

[tkaulitzlvr]

I NEED A PT2 TO THE 'DID U MEAN IT' ANGST PLEAAAAAAAAAASE IM BEGGING

DID YOU MEAN IT (2)- T. KAULITZ

synopsis: you see tom for the first time after calling off your casual hookups - unsure of what to make of tom’s confession after he says something that makes them so much more. it seems that he has had a change of heart, determined to put things straight, no matter how hard you resist.

content: angst & smut

a/n: lowk forgot i even wrote did you mean it LOL, i meant to write a part two a few days after but that never happened😭i’d recommend u read part one before this to remind urself of what happened cause this has sat in my drafts for weeks and i have finally found the motivation to finish it🔥

“truth or dare guys come on!”

a noticeably tipsy voice shouts over the loud music, everybody placing their drinks down and walking over to the large circle that begins to form in the centre of the living room. i contemplate joining, swirling the drink in my hand aimlessly, praying that no one will notice me. normally i would rush towards games like this, enjoying the thrill that came along with them. but that excitement is replaced with dread, because he is here.

my friends hadn’t told me that tom would be at this party - knowing that i would never have agreed to come if i had found out. but it was far too late to leave now, my breath catching in my throat when i had spotted him from the other side of the room, my heart aching as the wound of whatever we had is still fresh. and he spotted me too - his eyes locking onto mine, no longer paying attention to the small blonde clinging onto his frame. though a couple weeks had passed since i had walked out, i know that i’m not ready to speak to him yet, so for the rest of the party i ignore him, despite the obvious glances that he sends my way.

and i was able to do so easily - until now. a game like truth or dare means that i have to face him directly, something which i have strictly avoided. my eyes are glued to his frame - adorned in baggy attire as usual - as he joins the circle himself, no longer accompanied by the girl he was with when i arrived. and just when i think i have managed to get away with missing out on the game, i am dragged over to the circle by one of my friends, unable to resist her strangely strong grip. as i near the circle, tom’s eyes dart to mine, somehow spotting me out of his peripheral vision. if my luck wasn’t bad enough, my friend sits just a few seats beside him, tom now not even a metre away from me, this the closest we have been since we last fucked. i ignore his eyes clearly burning into mine, focusing on the glass bottle that is placed in the centre, watching as it begins to spin around.

“the first person it lands on has to choose truth or dare, the second chooses what they have to do.”

the bottle begins to slow after a few seconds, everybody’s eyes fixed on it - everybody’s except tom’s, who still refuses to tear his gaze away from my body. i groan internally when the glass bottle finally stops, landing directly on me. it spins again, landing on some random guy who i hadn’t seen before.

“truth or dare?”

“dare.” i state confidently, deciding that if i am sitting here, i might as well do something fun, rather than answer a shitty question that would probably be along the lines of ‘what’s your body count?’ or ‘where’s the craziest place you’ve had sex?’

“i dare you…” the guy pauses, visibly contemplating over what to instruct me to do, adjusting himself in his seat before continuing. “to sit on the hottest guy in the room’s lap for five minutes.”

seriously? i scoff quietly at his dare, wondering how he failed to come up with something at least a little more interesting. though when i lock eyes with the brunette that had been eyeing me up the entire night, it suddenly doesn’t seem that bad. he is cute, soft brunette curls adorning his structured face, deep green eyes and plump lips, i had spotted him almost as soon as i had entered the party. and he had seen me too, sending me quick glances and smiling at me. the opportunity seems perfect as i grasp it with open arms, standing up and adjusting my dress that was probably too short.

though as i begin to walk over, my steps are quickly restrained as a hand wraps itself firmly around my wrist, pulling me backward to sit on their lap. i turn around, a familiar pair of brown eyes looking back at me, his expression harsh, jaw clenched and gaze darkened. he doesn’t seem at all fazed, his hand remaining firmly on my wrist as he adjusts himself, ignoring the quiet gasps that sound from the people around us. all i can do is stare, somehow unable to scold him like sober me would. i don’t even contemplate getting up just yet, far too shocked to do anything but stare into his eyes, ones that i hadn’t seen since i had caused tears to spill from them the last time we had been this close.

“start the timer.” tom mumbles just loud enough for the rest of the circle to hear, his voice low as he refuses to look away from me. he adjusts my position on his lap, his hands moving to rest on my waist securely.

“what the fuck are you doing-”

“who is that guy?” he completely ignores my question, tightening his hold on me and pulling me even closer, diverting his gaze to the brunette who i had intended to walk over to, though like everyone else he is submerged in conversation with his friends.

“i don’t know.” i groan, feeling his arms tighten around my waist once again, pulling me in so my back is flat against his chest. i hear him tut behind me, his low breaths seeming to get closer and closer to my ear. “maybe i would if you hadn’t fucking pulled me over here-”

“i wouldn’t even let you find out his fucking name.” he quickly cuts me off, voice laced with an anger i hadn’t ever heard before, far beyond the heat of the moment frustration he had displayed a few weeks ago. this time jealousy edges it, the idea of me wanting to entertain another man leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. his lips are now centimetres away from my ear, close enough to be able to just ghost over it, but he stops himself. “you won’t speak to anyone else. because we’re talking about what happened, mhm? that guy isn’t going anywhere fucking near you.”

i scoff at his statement, his bold attitude somewhat amusing. he hadn’t been this possessive ever - when we were fuck buddies we would have sex, then he left. he would take me out for food sometimes, though it always ended in the same way - wrapped up in some random hotel room sheets with his dick inside me, leaving almost just as fast as i had entered. this is new. he had always gotten tense at any mention of me with another guy, yet he never had the guts to call me out. maybe he was jealous, but the most likely explanation is that he simply didn’t care. so why now?

i open my mouth to speak, though i am quickly cut off by the sound of a dull alarm ringing from the other side of the room. the guy that had given me the dare pulls his phone out of his pocket, ending the timer and uttering a quick ‘times up guys’. tom however doesn’t budge, keeping his hands firmly on my waist, despite it being literally impossible for him to have not heard the alarm.

i quickly detach his hands from my hips, standing up and exiting the circle before he can attempt to stop me, wanting nothing more than to be as far away from him as possible. though not because he frustrates me, not because i am seconds away from punching that jealous look off of his face, but because the butterflies that erupt in my stomach from his touch shouldn’t be there - not after i had ended things. my mind had told me that i would be fine without him, and until now i had believed myself. but fuck, i would be stupid to ignore the feeling that his presence ignites, his touch almost enough to make me run back into his arms. though i know that would be irrational, the alcohol in my system not helping my ability to make the right decision, forcing the morally correct part of me to get the fuck away from him before i make a mistake.

the music gets quieter and quieter as i carry on walking down the hallway, pressing my ear against one of the doors on the left, sighing in relief when i hear silence. my hands reach for the handle, pulling it open, silently thanking god that it is not only a bathroom, but an empty bathroom, something that is a luxury at parties of this size. i close the door behind me, turning to face the large mirror above the counter, adjusting my makeup and pulling my dress down - knowing that tom is the reason why it has rolled up so much. the mere thought of him leaves an uneasy feeling in my stomach, his actions totally unexpected and more than anything - annoying.

sure, i had been confident in my decision to cut things off before, but seeing his face and being so close to him proves too much to handle, the unexpected realisation that i am not where near over him beginning to set in. i groan loudly, resting my elbows on the marble counter and placing my head in my hands, quickly realising that i should never have come here in the first place.

the door handle begins to turn, though i don’t even have the energy to see who it is, mumbling a small ‘someone is in here’, hoping that they will move on. though the door fully opens, creaking quietly as i hear footsteps behind me.

“are you fucking deaf? i said-”

my mouth falls open when i turn around, my eyes meeting the brown ones that are the last things i want to see. his dreads hang loosely along his shoulders, tied in their usual ponytail. his expression is stern as he closes the door behind him, twisting the small lock beneath the handle.

“what the fuck do you want, tom?” i sigh, rubbing my temples as the alcohol in my system creates a small headache that begins to throb painfully. he steps a little closer as i move backward, my back hitting the cold counter behind me.

“to talk.” his voice is calm, still laced with anger as he places his hands in his pockets, his gaze never tearing away from mine.

“we have nothing to talk about.”

“don’t play that bullshit with me. we have fucking plenty to talk about.” he cuts me off firmly, tone lacking the composure it had just seconds ago, becoming more frustrated by my somewhat nonchalant attitude. in my head i am screaming, pleading, my mind thinking the exact opposite of what my voice utters, knowing that if i give in, i won’t be able to stop myself. the room turns silent, the uneasy kind that leaves a sinking feeling in your stomach, one that tempts me to leave the room and sprint home.

“i miss you.” he eventually speaks into the silence, tearing it apart with one of the most heavy sentences possible, leaving my voice caught in my throat, unable to do anything besides stare into his eyes.

“the sex you mean? me and the hookups are two different things.” my voice is harsh, probably harsher than i had intended as he scoffs at my statement, shaking his head and clearing his throat. he takes another step towards me, now within arms reach.

“why did you end it?” he completely changes the subject, tone matching the harshness of my own as his eyes narrow, feet shuffling closer to mine as his hands move to rest at either side of the counter, trapping my body between his own and the counter.

“because you said you loved me then changed your mind within ten fucking minutes. don’t act stupid tom.” i shake my head at his stupidity, wondering how he could ask such a question, the answer totally obvious. he still doesn’t budge, arms trapping me against the counter. “why do you care anyway?”

“you wanted to end it, not me. that’s why i care.” as much as it irritates me, he is right. i was the one to call off our regular hookups against his pleas not to. “and that guy is lucky he can walk out of this party alive. he’s been eye-fucking you all night.”

“so what? i’m not your’s tom. i never was. all we did was hookup, i can do what i want.” his jaw clenches at my response as he turns away from me, hands remaining fixed on the counter whilst his head is turned towards the door. he exhales loudly, his grip on the counter seeming to tighten as he grits his teeth, swallowing before looking at the ground.

“what so that’s it then? you don’t even care?” his voice raises now, not far off yelling as he finally backs away, eyes darkened as they scan my own, his expression hurt.

yes i care. of course i fucking care. my heart begs me to scream the words out, to bring him close to me and kiss him like we aren’t complicated. like we have the most simple relationship ever, even though it is everything but. we never dated, nothing beyond a regular hookup, and my heart shouldn’t ache the way it does over somebody who was never mine. somewhere within me, my rational side manages to take control, prompting me to speak after a few painful seconds of silence.

“care about what? look, i don’t understand what you want me to say. we had sex sometimes, now we don’t, that’s all there is to it. bye tom.” each word stabs me in my own heart as i speak them, knowing deep down that i don’t mean any of it, that i will regret pushing him away one day. when my hand reaches for the door, not able to spend another second this close to him, i know that i want nothing more than to show him how i really feel. though the second my palm twists the door handle, it is forcefully pulled backward, my entire body pushed harshly against the counter.

i am unable to object or even question what is happening as tom presses his lips onto mine firmly, silencing any attempts to fight back before i can even utter them. his hands attach themselves to my waist, pushing me further against the counter as his body presses against my own. my eyes close, lips moving to kiss him back without any real thought.

“don’t say shit like that.” he mumbles angrily against my lips, groaning quietly into the kiss as he deepens it, his tongue sliding into my mouth. his lips are soft, just as i had remembered them, always contrasting with the harshness of his metal lip piercing, something which i had grown to love over the course of our hookups - not that i would ever tell him that. never breaking his lips from my own, his hands reach under my thighs, lifting me up and onto the counter in one swift motion. he uses one hand to move my legs apart, standing in between the gap as his mouth works against mine. it is this change in position that soon makes me realise where he is going with this, and no matter how much i want to, i can’t give myself up.

“we can’t.” i mutter against his lips, my words getting through with little success as he mumbles a quiet ‘hm’ against me before kissing me with just as much hunger as before. i place my hands against his chest, pushing him back, though he only takes this as a sign to attach his lips to my neck, planting sloppy kisses all over the skin as his hands run up and down my waist.

“tom we can’t do this.” my voice is much louder this time, firmer than before as he pulls his head from my neck, not moving far as his face is inches from my own.

“why not?” he is breathless, chest rising up and down as his hands still rest on my waist, body resting in between my legs. when i don’t respond, he sighs lowly, moving his head back into the crook of my neck, resuming his lips’ movements on the skin.

“tell me to stop.” his grip on my waist becomes tighter as he presses our bodies flush against each other. the kisses on my skin become much harsher, bordering messy as they aim to caress every inch of my neck. and when i struggle to form words, i realise that tom knows exactly what he is doing, his kisses pausing momentarily to speak. “say you don’t want this. say it and i’ll stop.”

“i-i….” i pause, thinking things through for a second. i choose my words carefully, deciding what to say, wondering if i even mean what is about to leave my mouth. because we both know the real answer, the one that my heart pleads for me to say, even when my words come out as a choked whisper, saying the complete opposite. “i don’t want you. stop…”

“you’re such a bad liar.” he breathes out against my skin, moving to rest his forehead against my own, his eyes flicking between my own gaze and lips, swollen and slightly parted. he doesn’t waste much time though, capturing them in to a harsh kiss, even more desperate than the ones before. his hands move under the small dress that hugs my figure, the pads of his fingertips now dancing along the bare skin of my waist, his touch creating goosebumps along it as i moan lowly into his mouth.

slowly his hands begin to trail down, my mind paying little attention to these small movements, until his finger teases the waistband of my lace panties. my breath gets caught in my throat, lips momentarily stuttering against his own when he wraps his fingers around the lace, tugging it down at a slow pace. his lips still work against mine, only much slower now, pulling away once my panties pool at my feet.

“you have no idea how much i’ve needed you.” he shakes his head whilst his fingers scramble to undo the button of his jeans, pulling them down and stepping out of them. he reaches for his t-shirt, not getting far as i stop his movement, my hands taking the fabric and pulling it over his head, revealing that toned upper half that i had been close to so many times. but no matter how many times i had seen it, i would never get used to it. the muscle that lines his frame, broad shoulders and slightly built arms, trailing down to his somehow perfectly crafted six pack, god he looks good.

and he knows it too, a soft smirk tugging at his lips when he registers that i am staring. “it’s all yours. it always has been, but you had to be fucking stubborn about it.”

he reconnects his lips to mine, spreading my legs apart even further as one finger slips downward, teasing my entrance as i moan into his mouth. i gasp against it when he slowly inserts one finger, knowing just when to curl it to elicit those sounds out of me that he longs to hear. and he knows that whatever he is doing is working, my lips stuttering against his as my head falls backward, legs subconsciously spreading wider. just as i feel myself getting close, he pulls his finger out, placing it in his mouth as his tongue swirls around it, releasing with a small pop. all i can do is watch, my eyes glued to his fingers, staring as they move toward his boxers, hurriedly pulling them down as his dick springs free. his size had always been something that excites me, though now, after being without it for two weeks, my thighs clench together at the sight, needing nothing more than to feel it inside me.

he takes his shaft in his hand, pumping it slightly whilst the other reaches behind my back, undoing the zipper of my dress and pulling it downward. he uses his other hand to pull it completely off of my body, stopping in front of me for a few seconds to take in the view in front of him. his tongue comes out of his lips to gently poke at the metal piercing that adorns it, eyes widening slightly once they make contact with my breasts.

“you’re so beautiful, want you all to myself.” he mumbles quietly, spreading my legs apart and lining his tip up with my entrance. “you ready?”

he waits for my consent, smiling weakly when i nod my head. that is all he needs to begin sliding into me, his head falling backward at the feeling. my walls attempt to stretch out to accustom to his size as i hiss in pain, hands clutching onto the countertop. though i never tell him to stop, deciding that any pain is better than ruining this moment, waiting patiently for it to subside. he finally bottoms out inside me, and i swear i feel his tip prodding at my cervix, the sensation causing my mouth to fall open, tom’s already placing messy kisses on my my chest.

he slides out slowly, almost pulling out completely until only his tip is inside, before thrusting all the way in without warning, my entire body jolting forward at the feeling. he repeats his motions, my body practically on the verge of giving out, hands flying to his chest in search for any form of support. my teeth sink into my bottom lip, hissing quietly as dull flashes of pain wash over me, eventually becoming less and less frequent, instead replaced by pure pleasure.

tom finds a steady pace, his head still buried into my chest as his lips work against it, leaving purplish marks in place of their kiss. my ability to speak is long gone, desperate mewls of his name spilling from my lips as he grabs my hips, using them to speed up his thrusts even more. he moves his head closer to mine, somehow managing to kiss my lips at a slow pace, tongue exploring my own whilst his cock thrusts in and out of me far more relentlessly than ever before.

“doing so good for me, missed this pussy so much…” his praise is cut off by short and almost inaudible groans every few seconds, his nails digging into my waist whenever i clench around him. he pulls his head away from mine, and through half lidded eyes i see his own gaze flash to the large mirror behind us, his pace faltering momentarily as his expression changes, eyes darkening. and before i can question why, he quickly pulls out of me as i whine at the loss of contact, not having long to complain as he takes my body, bending it over the counter as i now look at myself in the mirror, mouth falling open as he thrusts into me once again.

the new angle is almost too much, my body now fully bent over the counter as i almost lose my balance, eyes squeezing shut and eyebrows furrowing. i can feel every inch of him inside of me, every vein seeming to leave its mark inside my walls as i clench around him. my head falls downward, close to being flush against the counter, though tom reaches around to grab my face, forcing me to be level with the mirror once again.

“no no no.” he mutters breathlessly, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he pauses, holding my face harshly in his hands, his grip likely to leave a mark. “watch yourself. look at those pretty faces you make as i fuck you.”

my eyes almost roll backwards when his tip prods directly against my g-spot, fighting the already strong urge to close, determined to comply with tom’s request as he continues to hold my face, his eyes locked on mine through the mirror. his muscles tense with each harsh movement, face twisting lightly after each thrust, the noises he lets out becoming more and more unrestrained as he gets closer and closer to his release.

“i’m so close.” he groans, finally letting go of my head, trailing his hand downward to rub fast circles on my clit, pushing me closer to my climax as the knot in my lower stomach begins to tighten. my legs buckle at his movements, quickly becoming overstimulated as i try to keep myself upright, pressing my body firmer into the counter. tom’s dick begins to twitch inside of me, signalling that he really is close, the soft groan that leaves his lips quickly followed by a much louder one as ropes of his thick cum begin to shoot into me. his head falls backward, low curses pouring from his lips as his cum continues to spill into me, his fast and deep thrusts fucking it upwards, followed by my own release. my hands clutch onto the counter desperately, using whatever little strength i have left to hold myself up, eyes locked on tom’s face as he cums, milking his cock slowly until he can no longer keep going.

he slides out of me, a mix of our juices seeping out of my hole, soon collected by the tissue that tom grabs from the side. sweat lines his body, showing just how tired out he is, if the loud and heavy breaths that leave his parted lips don’t show it enough. he lazily lifts me onto the counter, standing between my legs and pecking my lips softly, doing so repeatedly until our breathing has returned to its normal pace. he slides my panties on for me, grabbing his own boxers and quickly slipping them on, leaving the rest of our clothes on the floor. his forehead rests against mine, hands reaching to move any loose hairs out of my face.

“i meant it.” he states quietly into the silence, his lips ghosting against mine as i look back at him in confusion.

“you meant what?” i ask, my arms wrapping loosely around his neck. he smiles weakly, his thumb coming upward to stroke my cheek gently as i lean into his touch.

“when i said i loved you. i meant it.” no matter how daunting his confession is, he never looks away, his brown eyes searching my own as he blinks slowly. “i know i was a dick when i said it the first time. i didn’t want to scare you away, because i know it was just sex. and don’t get me wrong the sex is great, but it’s been more to me for a while. it did slip out, but i meant it, and i still mean it.”

my eyes widen, unsure of what to say, slightly hesitant to believe him instantly and instead wondering if this is just another ploy to fuck with my head, like he had done the last time. after a few seconds, i attach my lips to his, the kiss much softer than before, lacking the lustful intent behind it that had brought us to this position. he smiles into it, his hands resting on my lower back as his thumbs creates soft circles over the skin.

“i love you too.” his eyes light up at my response, arms wrapping tightly around my waist as he pulls me into a hug, lips pressing short kisses to my shoulder. he pulls away after a few seconds, smiling and reaching down to hand me my dress, quickly slipping on his own clothes and helping me down from the counter. he glances at the mirror, noticing that it is steamed up, his eyes lighting up as a childish idea flashes across his mind.

‘we just fucked :)’ i giggle quietly as he guides me out of the bathroom, glancing quickly at the mirror and reading the messy writing spread across it, hitting his arm playfully. he flashes me a quick smile, placing a hand on my lower back as we rejoin the party, my eyes immediately locking with the boy from earlier. tom quickly spots where i am looking, his eyes darkening as he refuses to look away. instead of walking toward him and starting a fight like i had expected, he places a hand firmly on my ass, kissing my lips roughly, his eyes still locked on the guy as he scoffs, shaking his head and walking elsewhere.

“i told you that he wouldn’t go anywhere near you. you can’t tell me i don’t stick to my word baby.” he smirks in my direction, taking my hand in his and leading me through the crowd, glancing behind him every so often to make sure that i am okay.

thank god for truth or dare.

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

[ro-written]

Spills and Confessions - C.San

Tags/Warnings: Pure fluff, drinking, San being a giggly and cute drunk, kdrama-level situations

Word Count: 1.3k

You stared at San as his face got redder and redder and his body swayed a bit, even sitting down. It was adorable.

The two of you hadn’t been able to just sit down and catch up with each other in a few weeks. Yes, you made sure to message each other, checking in on your best friend with his busy idol schedule and you balancing work and general life. But finally, earlier that night, he texted you as you finished in the shower.

Sannie 🌄: what are you doing RIGHT. NOW. You: not a “hello”? nary a “how are you?” Sannie 🌄: hello my bestest friend ever Sannie 🌄: now answer. You: …im scared to. Sannie 🌄: 🤨🤨🤨scared of ME??? You: absolutely not, dont make me laugh Sannie 🌄: booooooo, what are you doing toniiiiiight???? You: nothing, dear 😞 Sannie 🌄: good answer. Sannie 🌄: cause i have no work tomorrow morning and im expecting you to not either You: bold assumption. Sannie 🌄: well you know me You: …it would also be a correct one Sannie 🌄: 😼perfect Sannie 🌄: come over and drink with me, everyone’s out for the night You: lmao sounds good, give me like 30

Well, an hour later and three drinks in, San was giggling at a little joke you had made. Just a slight innuendo, nothing you hadn’t done before, but to him it seemed to be the funniest thing in the world. He wiped his eyes of the two tears racing down his face.

“Was it funny?” You looked at him with eyebrows raised, trying to hide the small smile playing on your lips behind your drink glass. He has been a lightweight since you could remember. Even with all the working out he’s done, no matter how broad - as he likes to brag about - his shoulders get, that fact will never change. 

“Very…..very much so,” he gasps out, slowly bringing himself to calm down. His entire neck was beet red and his eyes turned into half-moons with his smile. His dimples showed through and you couldn’t help but reach out to poke one of them. The slight haze in your brain overtook your thinking, and you didn’t consider it before you moved and blurted out

“You’re so cute, honey.”

When the words were finally processed in your head, it was too late.

He had looked at you with this wide-eyed, child-like look. His lips formed the little pout they’d do when he was confused or shocked about something. The drink he held in his hand stayed frozen halfway between the table and his mouth.

It wasn’t like you two didn’t flirt before. Of course you have, but it was in a platonic way. Just little comments here and there about how someone looked a particular time, or saying cheesy one-liners. But it never went past that. You two always kept the invisible wall of “lol” and “whatever” up to not make either person feel weird. But this comment was different. And even in his unsteady state, he was able to detect the tone in your voice.

Of course, you found San attractive, anybody who could perceive other people would find him attractive. Did that mean you had a crush on the man? …yes. You knew you did, but you held that as close to your chest as you could, not wanting him to feel uncomfortable if it came to be that he didn’t feel the same way. You’ve tried to shake your mind out of it for a while, trying to find any ick about him to keep up the platonic barrier of your friendship. And when that didn’t work, you went on dates to distract yourself. But during these dates, you would only find yourself comparing them to San. How they dressed, how they talked, their personalities. None of them could ever compare.

“Um…sorry, was that weird?” You backtracked and tried to laugh it off. You could feel your face burning though and quietly hoped it wasn’t too noticeable. He kept quiet, eyes going down to the bottles in front of both of you. Gotta go gotta go gotta go gotta–

“I think I’m gonna get water!” You abruptly stood up from the couch to make your way over to the kitchen in the dorm. You needed to get away from him and the heavy atmosphere that had suddenly clouded the room. 

Grabbing out a random mug you think was Mingi’s, you went to the sink and stared at the cold water filling the cup. Maybe it’s time to sober up and get home. You chugged the water, staring into the sink at the excuse you were gonna try to give San for leaving so early and how you were going to get an Uber back to your place.

“Uh, hey.”

San’s voice behind you made you jump and whip your head around. The water splashed up on your shirt sleeve and looking down you realized that it got on the floor as well.

“Shit, sorry,” San mumbled and rushed over to help you clean up the spill. You grabbed one of the dish rags laying next to the stove and started to crouch down right as San got there, moving to grab the towel out of your hand to clean it instead. His hand, instead, grabbed onto yours, and it made you both stop to stare at each other. He was warm, his hand soft and gentle against yours. His face was still flush, but his eyes were completely focused on you and how it felt to touch you. You took a deep, steadying breath as you gently pulled the rag from his hand.

“Don’t apologize, Sannie. I spilled it, I should clean it.” You offered him a closed-mouth smile, doing your best to relax your features and not show the inner turmoil you were facing. His mouth opened but quickly closed as you turned your attention to cleaning up the water. 

He struggled to figure out exactly what he wanted to say. He knew somewhat when he walked in, having gone over it in his head when you had come in here, but all of that was lost as soon as he saw you. He knew what he wanted, he’s always known. He’s known it since that day you showed up at the dorm to sneak him out for a night away from all the dance practices and interviews. You took him to a small festival with bright lights and various foods, ones that you made him share with you so he could have a break from his dieting. And that night, under the mix of the moonlight and the soft yellow lights, he realized that what he had wanted was you. 

“It wasn’t weird,” he said suddenly. You stopped wiping at the floor to understand what he had said to you. Your heartbeat hadn’t stopped racing for the past fifteen minutes and you were afraid that you would collapse at any second. You feared that if you looked up at him, looked him in his eyes again, you truly would collapse. So you stood up and turned towards the counter to dump the rest of the water, balling up the towel in your hands.

You felt a hand on your shoulder gently pulling to turn you. Complying, you shifted around, keeping your eyes on his chest where his grey hoodie was decorated with Seoul National University’s logo on it. His hand moved under your chin, pushing it to make you look into his eyes.

“I need you to hear me when I say this.” Your breath caught in your throat. “I’ve liked you for years. And I never wanted to say anything because I was worried about scaring you off but…I like you. And I think that you may like me too.” His eyebrows drew together, eyes begging you to say something. 

Taking another deep breath, you felt your heartbeat slow down for once tonight. You brought both hands up to smooth out the crease in between his eyebrows and smiled, grabbing both sides of his face. Whether it was the alcohol in your system, or the confession he just gave you, something gave you the courage to respond back to him earnestly.

“Of course, I like you Sannie.”