#real life couples don't live and breathe each other like that

[crescent-lockhart97]

man, hunhan shippers are delusional.... 💀💀

[ja3yun]

Push My Buttons | L.HS

bodyguard!heeseung x rich girl!reader warnings: enemies to ???, angst, smut (mdni), car sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, choking, mentions of spit, possessive!hee, some violence, not proofread, anything else lmk! wc: 7.5k synopsis: lee heeseung has been hired as your personal security by your father. you and him don't see eye to eye, so when tensions rise at your best friends party, you both know how to push each others buttons. a/n: hi! this is a thank you for 1k! i still don't believe it if i'm honest because i don't think i deserve it but regardless, thank you all so much if you follow me! this is a little idea i had sitting on my laptop that i've decided to complete for this occasion so enjoy!

_____

Browsing through the racks of the Prada store, you can't help but feel acutely aware of the imposing presence of your hired security, stationed just two feet away.

"Do you have to stick to me like glue all the time?" you mutter, not bothering to meet his gaze.

“It’s my job, Y/N. You’d know what that was if you weren’t such a spoiled brat,” he spits back, his eyes rolling in exasperation.

Lee Heeseung was appointed by your father to ensure your safety during his frequent business trips. Unfortunately, your father's demanding role as CFO of a tech company keeps him away for extended periods. He doesn't trust you to fend for yourself, fearing that others might exploit you to reach him. Given your father's controversial reputation stemming from questionable business dealings, Heeseung's imposing presence is a constant fixture in your life.

Your bodyguard would be more tolerable if he weren't so insistent on being by your side every second. It's tiresome, really, how he clings to you like a shadow, never granting you a moment of solitude. If you go to the bathroom, he is right outside the door and if you dare try and sneak out the window - which you have tried numerous times - he is chasing you down the street, sweeping you off your feet and taking you home.

You had hoped that being only a couple of years older, he might adopt a more relaxed approach, letting you live your life a little, but you were wrong. Since the first day he turned up, he’s been nothing but a hoover, sucking the fun and freedom from your life all to keep you safe.

Sure, he probably knows deep down that he's a tad overbearing, but hey, he's clinging to this gig like a lifeline. Compared to his last job of being a bouncer at some dingy club, knocking back people with fake IDs and kicking out drunk people, your dad's cushy paycheck is like hitting the jackpot.

To Heeseung, you’re just some rich kid who has more money than sense, squandering it on everything and anything you deem a necessity at the time, only to then throw them away or forget about them. Considering he struggled to pay his rent before this job, he hates your whimsy ways with money. 

It's like you live in your own little bubble, completely disconnected from the real world. There are people out there starving and you’re buying thousands of pounds worth of clothes that you could easily get from a bargain bin for a fiver. 

Finally, you spare him a glance, “Just stand over there, okay? You really don’t have to be here and mess up my whole vibe,” you flail your arms around hoping the gestures will add some exclamation to your statement.

With a resigned sigh, he acquiesces, nodding, "In my line of sight at all times, got it?" He scans the area once more, on high alert for anything out of place, before reluctantly giving you some breathing room.

Heeseung blends in, looking through the obscenely expensive trousers which he is convinced he has seen the exact same jeans in thrift stores, just without the brand label. It’s a reminder of the contrast between you both; your lavish ways are still an alien concept to him.

He’s been in this role for 3 months and he won’t get over it, how different you both are. Your beliefs and traits are so starkly dissimilar that not once have you ever seen eye to eye. He doesn’t hate you, but he’s close to it. You always treat him with little to no respect and considering he’s only looking out for you per your daddy’s request, he would like to think you would be a little more grateful. 

Suddenly, his thoughts are interrupted by a lone figure approaching you, a slick smile playing on his lips. Heeseung’s jaw tightens as he analyses the scene in front of him, trying to speculate what the guy wanted, although Heeseung already knows his intentions.

You’re too busy trying to decide whether beige or cream looks better on you as you hold out two vest tops to notice the incoming man.

“I think you should go with that one,” the sudden boom of a voice beside you makes you jump and turn to him, clutching the clothes to your chest as you try to still your thumping heart, “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you, beautiful.”

Normally, you pay no mind to greasy men like him, but his cinched suit which was clearly tailor-made to fit and his sleek dyed brown hair was enough for you to give him a second glance. You can always spare some time for people who look good.

“Which one?” you ask, holding them back up at arm's length.

“The left one, I think you would look sexy in any of them, to be honest,” he smirks, thinking he’s being so smooth but you’re not really impressed by flattery. You know you look good, you see yourself in the mirror every day. Plus, he’s only trying to oil you up so he can either as you out or try and fuck you. The only one who genuinely gives you truthful advice or says you look good and mean it with no intention is Heeseung.

Your bodyguard is watching like a hawk, face steaming with anger as the guy puts his hand on your waist, holding one of the vest tops to your chest area. He’s already given the guy enough leeway by even letting him speak to you, but now he’s touching you, and Heeseung will be damned if he lets him get away with that.

With measured steps, Heeseung comes up behind you, licking his lips as hugs you from behind, “Baby girl, are you almost done?” he whispers loudly enough that the unwanted man in front of you can hear, “Who is this?” he asks, eyes now pointed forward.

The stranger's confidence falters under Heeseung's intense scrutiny, his eyes widening slightly as he realises the gravity of the situation. Heeseung's demeanour is unmistakably protective, his stance leaving no room for doubt about his intentions. His eyes are so dark that the boy knows that one wrong move will have Heeseung pouncing on him.

“I’m Woobin,” he says almost inaudibly. It’s amazing how quickly he resigned from his cocky attitude as soon as Heeseung made his presence known.

"Do you work here, Woobin?" Heeseung's voice is a low rumble against your ear, his lips trailing a path of kisses down your neck to your shoulder. His touch is electrifying, sending shivers down your spine as his hands caress your stomach, his thumbs tracing delicate patterns against the skin beneath your shirt

The butterflies in your tummy are fluttering around as if they’ve been disrupted from their nest by his touch. This is new, he hasn’t done this before, usually opting to just stand between you and potential danger. It's exhilarating and maddening all at once, the line between protection and possessiveness blurring in the heat of the moment.

Heeseung knows that if he simply said he was your security, it wouldn’t deter the man, he had to think on his feet. That and the way he touched you evoked something inside him, protectiveness laced with something else. 

“I don’t work here, I-”

“Then get your hands the fuck off my girl,” Heeseung interrupts Woobin, maintaining eye contact with him as he bites down a little on the nape of your neck, almost like he’s physically marking you as his own in front of a potential suitor.

Your head is in a frenzy, knowing that Heeseung is stepping far beyond his role of protection, yet, you don’t stop him. It would be lying to say that his lips didn’t feel good on your skin, the way his fingers lightly gripped the softness of your stomach gave you fanny flutters like nothing else; as he boldly stakes his claim, you can't help but feel a surge of desire mingling with frustration

But this is also the man that is currently cockblocking you right now, stopping you from getting Woobin’s number and potentially a good fuck that you’re clearly in desperate need of; why else would you be getting turned on by Heeseung right now? This is the man you cannot stand, he is the last person on earth you want to be with. 

Woobin awkwardly laughs and backs away, giving a slight wave to you as he walks out of the store, leaving you both in the thick silence.

As his form disappears into the distance, Heeseung stands by your side, his stare unflinching as he watches the threat go by, proud of himself for handling the situation quickly. Heeseung hasn’t let you go, his hands moving from your tummy to your waist, gripping it softly.

You don’t know what to do, still standing in a haze of shock and confusion, your eyes watching the back of Woobin with intensity. The man behind you didn’t even have to say much before Woobin was running with his tail between his legs.

Honestly, you know Heeseung can be intimidating, but this must have been a new level, even for him. You couldn’t see his eyes, yet, you know they held only room for intimidation.

Heeseung's attitude relaxes somewhat, but his protective stance remains firm. He slowly releases you from his grip, placing one last kiss on your neck for what reason he doesn’t know. 

You take a moment to compose yourself, internally dealing with the mixed feelings of the encounter before pure rage flushes over you, “What the fuck was that?” you seeth, twisting your body to face him.

“What was what?” he asks, unfazed by your angry demeanour. 

Slamming the vests back on the rack, you face him, your shorter stature suddenly being a hindrance as you try to act tough, “You know what! You just cockblocked me for no reason,” you ball your fists to the side of your hips, trying not to cause too much of a scene in the store. 

“Good. God knows what he had, he was a creep,” Heeseung’s face is stoic, not giving much of his emotions away which only serves to piss you off more. 

You wanted him to look a little bit sorry for overstepping, to say he was at least sympathetic towards your frustration. Instead, he just stands there, insulting the boy he didn’t even know.

Letting out a groan, you shut your eyes and unclench your hands, “I can’t ever have any fun with you around,” you try to calmly explain but as the words leave your lips, you begin to question why you’re trying to be civil in the first place. 

This man is the bain of your existence, the reason you haven’t had sex in months, he is utterly infuriating and here he stands in front of you with no remorse for ruining your life.

Heeseung nods, feigning understanding as he leans down to make eye contact with you, his nose almost touching yours, “I don’t know, baby girl, it seems like you were having a blast a second ago,” he says smugly, a half smirk creeping onto his face.

You beam red, embarrassment and anger mixing to create a shade of crimson you didn’t know you could make. He was frustrating, arrogant, irrational, rude, cocky, and overall just irritating. You hate Lee Heeseung.

Winking at you, he nudges his nose with yours before standing back up, his figure back to towering over you, “Pick the one on the right and let’s get a move on,” he says, tucking his hands into his pockets and taking one giant step back. 

It was like he was mocking you, giving you your space after infiltrating it as if he wasn’t leaving wet kisses on your neck five minutes ago. 

With a huff, you face the two vests once again, looking between both options, each one having its own backer. You bite your lip and contemplate over them, choosing the one on the right.

_____

As you apply your final coat of mascara, you take one long look in the mirror. You look great, everything about you falls into place perfectly, your hair and makeup only adding to your beauty while the dress you’re wearing hugs you nicely.

Obviously, you don’t tell Heeseung that you had a party tonight, knowing that he would lock you up like some Disney princess in your castle. If there was one thing Heeseung hated more than men coming into your zone, it was parties where tons of men could. 

The last party you went to was just before Heeseung arrived on the scene, the bodyguard now never letting you experience any joy or social gatherings that weren’t accompanied by him or a simple meet-up with friends. ‘There’s too much risk at a party’ he will always tell you.

A knock on your bedroom door almost makes you drop the mascara wand but you catch it before it causes disaster. 

“I’m coming in,” Heeseung’s voice travels through the door before he swings it open. His eyes trail over your body as he assesses the outfit, “A bit dressed up for a night in with me, no?” he tries to pass it off as a lighthearted joke but he knows he’s about to argue with you about your plans.

“Oh, y’know, just thought I would try and make an effort to sit in and watch Louder Milk for the nth time,” you roll your eyes, twisting the mascara shut and turning to face him.

Heeseung grumbles, “Let’s cut to the chase where you tell me where you plan on going and I obviously stop you,” he crosses his arms and tilts his head expectantly.

But you can’t let him win, not this time around. It’s your best friend’s birthday night out and if you miss it, you’ll never be invited to anything again; you can’t miss a 21st birthday party and expect there not to be consequences, especially not in your circle of friends.

You finish getting ready with a sense of purpose, carefully placing your lip oil and hairbrush into your YSL bag. "I've got plans," you announce, nonchalantly shrugging your shoulders.

His brows furrow slightly. "You never mentioned we had plans tonight," he remarks, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

"We don't have plans, Heeseung. I do. And you weren’t invited," you retort, your tone tinged with sarcasm as you shoot him a playful smirk.

He raises an eyebrow, trying to decipher your intentions. "A party? A date?" he ventures, scanning your attire and deducing that this isn't just a casual outing.

As you attempt to breeze past him, he swiftly moves to block the doorway with his arm, his muscles tensing as he grips the doorframe. You lock eyes with him, noticing the frustration brewing beneath the surface.

His jaw tightens as you stand your ground, a silent challenge passing between you, "Tell me where you're off to," he demands, his voice taking on a more authoritative tone.

You really need to get fucked because he’s suddenly turning you on, and his body starting to look like a jungle gym. Regardless of the fury and hatred for the boy in front of you, when he got angry, he was a new level of hot; it’s probably the reason you subconsciously push his buttons.

“I am going to Ryujin’s birthday party,” you confess, taking hold of his arm and trying to pry it from the wall, but he’s too strong and it doesn’t work. Even with all your efforts, it doesn’t budge.

Smiling at your feeble attempts to move him, Heeseung cockily leans on one foot, the other tucking behind his leg as he watches you struggle.

Undeterred, you try to slip under his arm, but he effortlessly scoops you up and returns you to your room, closing the door behind you with a practised ease. His years dealing with drunks at his previous job have endowed him with certain skills in handling runaways..

"Don't make this difficult, Y/N," he warns.

"You're the one being difficult! It's my best friend's birthday. Are you seriously telling me I can't go? I'm not in danger, you know," you retort angrily, frustration evident in your voice.

Heeseung understands that you're completely oblivious to the dangers lurking around your family, shielded by your innocent perspective. No one has bothered to inform you about your father's involvement in money laundering and his dealings with shady men. In your eyes, having a bodyguard feels like an unnecessary intrusion into your life rather than a protective measure.

"Listen, let's just imagine I let you go. Where is it?" he asks, a tinge of apprehension in his voice.

"Serenity," you reply, already sensing the tension building.

Heeseung's eyes widen in disbelief, "Serenity? The bar down by the loch? Are you serious?" he exclaims, his concern evident.

It was a losing battle the moment you opened your mouth. The bar isn’t known for its good reputation, it’s sleazy and grim, and despite its calm name, no one who occupies the bar could be considered peaceful.

Ryujin picked it simply because she likes to cosplay as a poor person sometimes, wondering what it would be like to live on the other side of wealth while obnoxiously spending a shit ton of money, completely rendering her ideas pointless.

You don’t agree with it but she is your best friend, the only person that gave you the time of day when you didn’t have a penny to your name all those years ago.

"I am not letting you step foot in that place," Heeseung asserts firmly, drawing a line in the sand.

“She hired out the whole bar, it’s not like anyone can just walk in,” you try to reason back but it doesn’t work as Heeseung’s resolve remains the same.

“You aren’t going, end of discussion. The whole neighbourhood is trouble and your friend is fucking stupid for this,” he scratches his jaw as the worst-case scenarios pop into his head. He might not like you but he really can’t stand some of the thoughts popping into his head, the urge to protect you growing stronger by the second.

The loch is a small part of town, mostly made up of deadbeats and criminals. Word spreads fast around there and there is a high chance the scums of the area know a bunch of snooty rich kids are going to be there for the picking.

You need to go, you can’t cancel any more plans so you need to think of something quick, “You can come with me,” you suggest, stepping closer to him. Would it be overbearing and annoying to have him there? Yes but at least you would be there. And it might actually be good if he was, after all, he is good at his job; you feel safe around him and the more he’s warning you away from Serenity and the loch, the more you’re starting to want his protection.

“I thought I wasn’t invited?” He raises his eyebrows sceptically.

Placing your hands on his chest, you trail them up to his shoulders, a pout forming on your lips. "Well, I'm inviting you now. Please, Heeseungie?" you implore, employing your best puppy-dog eyes and fluttering lashes in an attempt to sway him.

Typically, your pleading face doesn't work on him, but the combination of your hands massaging his tense shoulders and the endearing nickname starts to chip away at him.

"Fine. We can go for an hour or so, and then I'm taking you straight back home, understand?" he relents, already second-guessing his decision.

You squeal with joy, wrapping your arms around his neck and jumping up and down. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Finally, you've managed to reason with him.

Pushing you away gently, he clears his throat. "Be at the car in 10 minutes before I change my mind."

This is going to end disastrously.

_____

"Remember—"

"In your line of sight at all times," you finish, a hint of exasperation in your voice as you recite Heeseung's usual mantra.

Heeseung unbuckles his seatbelt with a grunt, his irritation clear as he mutters curses under his breath. He can't believe he's ended up in this mess, much less mocked by you. He is well aware that this is a recipe for disaster especially as he examines the area and notices gritty individuals prowling around the loch's borders, waiting for an opportunity to strike.

Heeseung is confident in his ability to handle himself; it's your safety that concerns him the most as he observes a suspicious figure crossing in front of your car.

You waste no time darting out of the car and hurrying to the club's entrance, leaving Heeseung trailing behind, a gust of wind in your wake.

"This fucking girl," he grumbles to himself as he parks the car and follows after you. He sees through your tactic—trying to get inside before him so he'll be left waiting outside while you venture off on your own. But he's not falling for it today.

He catches up to you just as you're about to give your name to the bouncer, his arm instinctively settling around your waist. The bouncer eyes Heeseung with a sceptical gaze, taking note of his attire and demeanour, which hardly scream 'rich kid bellend.'

As Heeseung squeezes your side, you shoot him a playful smirk over your shoulder. "Oh, this is my boyfriend. He's just trying to get into character for the place—dirty-chic and all that," you quip sarcastically, gesturing between him and the bouncer.

The bouncer chuckles at your comment, nodding in amusement. "You've done a good job. I almost mistook you for one of those creeps by the water," he jests, stepping aside to let you both in.

Heeseung doesn't react to your teasing or the bouncer's remarks. He's grown accustomed to such comments after spending the past few months with you and your friends. From being called shabby to poor, to filthy to crude, he's heard it all. Sometimes you apologise for your friend's words, but he knows the damage is already done.

It’s times like that that he has some faith in you, that you aren’t all diamonds and gold, that you do have a heart underneath it all.

Sticking close to you, you both end up at the bar ordering a gin and tonic for you and a water for himself. He knows everything about you by now, the constant watchful eye on you has got him to learn your favourite everything, so he finds himself ordering for you more times than not. That is, when you let him be actively seen with you.

"Can you vanish over there while I find Ryujin?" you ask, already scanning the room for the birthday girl.

Nodding, Heeseung points towards a nearby wall. "I'll be over there. If anything happens, remember to stay where I can see you. Don't run off; I will find you. And if you're going to the bathroom, come and get me," he advises, his tone firm as he leans down to emphasize the importance of his instructions.

"Yeah, sure," you reply casually, already making your way over to your friends at the other end of the bar, their excited screams and squeals guiding your path.

True to his word, Heeseung gives you space but remains vigilant, never taking his eyes off you. He's pleasantly surprised when three hours pass, and you're only on your second drink. Normally, he's had to carry you out of brunch with your university friends, and that's not even bottomless. Part of him thinks you’re remaining sober for your own vigilance, which makes him happy that you aren’t so reckless to get drunk in an unfamiliar setting around a lot of people you don’t know.

As the night progresses, Heeseung's gaze remains fixed on you from his position against the wall. He observes the way you interact with your friends, the genuine joy evident in your laughter and the twinkle in your eyes. Seeing you light up like this is a rarity, but it warms something inside him to witness you truly enjoying yourself.

Despite his reservations and occasional frustrations, Heeseung takes his role of keeping you safe very seriously. The thought of anything happening to you weighs heavily on his mind, not just because of the potential consequences from your father, but because he has come to genuinely care about your well-being. It's a realisation that surprises even him, how much he's come to feel responsible for you beyond just fulfilling his duties as a bodyguard.

Day by day, Heeseung finds himself spending more time in your presence. Even when he should be stationed at the front door, he often finds himself drawn to your side, whether it's watching TV shows together or cooking dinner. Sure, these moments are often punctuated by arguments over his choice of shows or the random spices he adds to your meals, but they keep things interesting, injecting a sense of spontaneity into his otherwise regimented routine.

And truth be told, he finds a strange satisfaction in winding you up, relishing the sight of the vein in your forehead protruding whenever you're exasperated with him. Despite the occasional clashes, there's an undeniable chemistry between the two of you, a dynamic that keeps him on his toes and reminds him that guarding you isn't just a job - it's become a massive part of his life.

Recently, he has become extra protective over you, the incident at the Prada store being a prime example. Men like Woobin are not the ones he should be protecting you from, but he can’t help it, you’re too precious to be led off by the likes of him.

Shaking his head, he disregards his last thought. You’re not precious, you’re a princess, a snooty diva with an attitude problem.

This is what he has to tell himself every day.

He watches you go up to the bar and sit on the stool as you order another drink, but his attention shifts to a familiar face in the crowd. Woobin - and he is walking straight for you. Like he hasn’t dealt with him enough today, it was almost as if thinking about him that manifested him straight into your lap.

As Woobin twists the stool you're sitting on to face him, Heeseung's grip on the empty cup tightens, his knuckles turning white with the effort to maintain his composure. He knows he can't just stride over there like he did at the store; he crossed a line then, kissing your neck was too far, and biting down on you to mark you was too far. But the possessive feeling that had simmered earlier resurfaces as he watches Woobin casually tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear.

His mind races with a mantra, a desperate attempt to keep his emotions in check. The real threat to you is outside, not in here. The real threat to you is outside, not in here. The real threat to you is outside, not in here.

But as he watches Woobin's hand graze your leg, Heeseung's resolve crumbles.

"Fuck this," he mutters under his breath, his anger boiling over as he pushes himself off the wall and throws his cup away. Without a second thought, he makes a beeline for you, determined to put an end to this unwanted intrusion.

You suddenly feel Heeseung's chest press against your back, his presence feels overpowering, his aura dark and intense. You glance at Woobin and notice the fear flicker back into his eyes, just like before, as Heeseung speaks with a menacing tone, "Have you got a death wish or something, mate?" His question hangs in the air, a clear warning.

Woobin takes a step back, but despite the quiver in his pupils, he refuses to back down. "She obviously isn't satisfied with you," he retorts, attempting to sound tough. "She hasn't even tried to bat me off."

You scrunch your face in disbelief at Woobin's audacity. His attempt to turn the situation on you is off-putting, and any attraction you may have felt towards him suddenly dissipates.

Heeseung's gaze shifts down to you, his eyes hooded as he leans in close. "Is that true, baby girl? Do I not satisfy you?" His words send a shiver down your spine, leaving you momentarily speechless. Before you can form a response, he leans even closer, his breath hot against your cheek as he whispers in your ear, "You better agree with me, or else I'll punch his lights out, right here, right now."

His threat hangs in the air, leaving you feeling torn between conflicting emotions. As you struggle to find the right words, Heeseung's lips graze the skin of your earlobe, sending a jolt of sensation through you. You're unsure whether he's doing this to turn your mind to mush so you can do nothing but agree with him or assert his dominance over Woobin, who watches with a flushed neck, clearly intimidated by Heeseung's display of possessiveness.

Nodding slowly, you side-eye Heeseung, “Y-you do,” you say quietly but as he bites down on your ear and you yelp, you speak up a bit more confidently, “You do satisfy me.”

“Good girl,” he whispers, placing one final kiss on your ear, “You heard her, so get the fuck away from her, or I will throw your body in the loch and no one will even care to look for you,” he challenges Woobin, threatening him like some gangster.

As Woobin backs up and mutters ‘This is not fucking worth it’, Heeseung smiles triumphantly, knowing he’s scared him off for good. Heeseung fixes your hair, gathering it all to sit nicely at the back, running his fingers through it as he silently warns any other men in the club that you’re no one but his.

You hate to admit it, but it turns you on a little.

But your responsible head twists back on and you understand what Heeseung has done again, “Heeseung,” you slap his chest and push him away, “Stop fucking babying me!” Standing up from the stool, you weave through the people at the club in search of the exit, Heeseung’s antics finally pushing you too far. 

"I am doing my job, Y/N," he shouts over the chatter and music, his voice barely audible amidst the din of the club.

"No, you aren't. That is not your job," you retort, your voice rising above the noise. "Pretending to be my boyfriend and scaring away potential fucks is not part of the remit!"

Your words hang in the air, heavy with frustration and disappointment. You push him away one more time, creating some distance between you before storming out of the club.

Fuming with anger and adrenaline, you make your way through the car park, your mind racing with conflicting emotions. Part of you resents Heeseung for his overbearing behaviour, but another part can't deny the thrill you felt with his protective display. It's infuriating to admit, but the feeling of his possessiveness is sending shivers straight down south, You hate that you're even thinking like this.

His touch on your ear and neck lingers in your mind, igniting a whirlwind of desire and confusion. You're not thinking straight anymore, and if Heeseung catches up to you, you're not sure how you'll react - whether it'll be pure anger or pure lust.

Either way, you need to get this steam out. 

“Y/N! Get back here right now!” he shouts, pushing past the men who are ogling your figure. 

As you hear his voice, something takes over you. You pull the first guy you see into a kiss, holding onto this jacket as your mouth moves against his.

Heeseung sees red, blood red as he watches you kiss the stranger. It’s reckless behaviour, your lips moving roughly against a guy probably twice your age but, of course, the guy doesn’t mind. He wraps his arms around you to bring you in closer. That gesture shakes Heeseung from his shock coma, his emotions fueling him.

But Heeseung can't stand idly by any longer. With a guttural growl, he yanks the man away from you, his anger propelling him into action. He delivers a punishing punch to the man's face, the force of it sending him crashing to the ground, sprawled across the gravel of the car park.

Heeseung doesn't stop there. He delivers a few more swift kicks to the man's prone form before turning his attention to you. Grabbing your arm with bruised hands, he hauls you towards the car, his grip tight and unforgiving.

"You're so fucking irresponsible," he seethes, his voice dripping with venom as he struggles to contain the storm of emotions raging inside him. The veins in his neck bulge with the intensity of his anger, his eyes flashing with a dangerous fire.

“Sorry if I want to have some fun,” you argue back, trying your hardest to release yourself from his firm hold.

As you both approach your car, he opens the door and shoves you in, “And kissing and fucking random guys is fun?” he slams the door behind you once he knows all your limbs are inside the vehicle.

Striding over to the driver's seat, he gets in quickly, locking the doors so you can’t make a quick escape. You don’t even attempt to try and flee, already knowing you’re only going to end up in a game of cat and mouse all night, and in this weather with your dress isn’t fun. 

“I’m 20 years old, nearly 21, I can fuck if I want to,” you shout back, slamming your hand on the backrest to hammer home your point. You are old enough and wise enough to make your own decisions, Heeseung is only there to make sure you don’t end up getting kidnapped or whatever it is your dad thinks will happen to you.

"It's not wanting to fuck that is my problem, it's who you want to fuck," he growls, his voice tinged with bitterness.

You want to slap him, angry that he doesn’t seem to get it, “I don’t get to fuck anyone thanks to you,” you retort back with venom laced in your voice.

His entire body turns to face you, his gaze piercing through you as he asks, "You want to get fucked?"

“Yes! Obviously!”

Heeseung lunges towards you, pressing his lips to yours in a matter of seconds to your answer. At first, you’re confused at what is happening, the unfamiliar feeling of his mouth melting into yours causes your head to thump.

But as he moves you to lay back, flicking the seat to recline all the way back, you find yourself chasing his body with yours, your lips like magnets as they draw themselves back to his. He tastes sweet, not like how you expected, you were presuming it’s the flavour of his vape he swears he doesn’t use.

Shuffling your way up the seat, you spread your legs so he can situate himself neatly in between you, knees resting against the edge of the seat for support, his hands roaming all over your body and his kisses never faltering. 

He was hungry for you, those tiny tastes of your neck served as appetisers before the main meal which was your mouth and tongue. Roughly, he brings one of his palms to cover your throat as squeezes, the consequential parting of your lips as you gasp gives him access to lick into your mouth. The grip on your throat is heavenly, just tight enough to make your brain go fuzzy but not to the point you think you’re in danger.

With a quick roll of his hips, you feel the outline of his cock being pushed onto your core, even through jeans he’s prominent, only building up your anticipation more. He does this a few times, each time the rough edges of his zipper rub your barely covered clit, eliciting a moan from you.

Heeseung's smirk widens at your response, his gaze flickering with desire as he watches the desperation in your eyes. Without hesitation, he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he repeats his question, this time with less anger and more longing. "You want to get fucked?"

Your breath catches in your throat at his words, your desire for him burning hotter than ever before. "Yes, please, Heeseung," you whimper, using your hands to hold his hips against yours as you rut yourself desperately against him, humping his length through his jeans. 

Heeseung almost feels bad for you, clearly, he underestimated how much you needed to seek release. No wonder you were willing to entertain someone like Woobin. He had to make this worth the frustration he has been causing you.

The pressure of Heeseung's hand around your throat tightens, eliciting a gasp from your lips as you struggle to catch your breath, "You sure you want to fuck a guy like me?" he hisses, his voice tinged with both agitation and desire, the intensity of his gaze burning into yours.

Despite the lack of air, you manage to choke out your response, your voice laced with desperation, "Yes, Heeseung, I need you."

A smug smirk plays across Heeseung's lips at your admission, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly. "Oh, I know you need me, Sweetheart," he replies, his tone dripping with confidence. "You're staining my jeans as we speak." His words send a shiver down your spine, a potent mixture of arousal and frustration coursing through you.

But then his question cuts through the haze of desire, forcing you to confront the reality of the situation, "I'm asking if you want to go back to little Woobin now?" he taunts, knowing full well the answer already. He just wants to hear you say it.

With a shake of your head, you release your hold on his hips and begin to unbutton his jeans, determination blazing in your eyes. "No," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper. "No, I only want you."

“Thought so,” he kisses you again before releasing your throat, focusing his hand's attention on ridding you of your pants while you work to get his trousers out of the way. He tugs your underwear down, tossing them to his side of the car before lining himself up at your hole.

Wrapping your legs around his hips, you try to push him to slip into you, but he keeps his hips rigid, only making you look more desperate for him. He taps your clit with the head of his cock, each time it slaps down, he echoes it with a tut.

“You don’t even know if I’ll fit,” his voice whispering in your ear as he licks the shell of it, “All those preppy rich boy cocks aren’t anything like mine,” he takes your wrist in his hand and guides you to feel his length as it sits neatly in your folds, “See?”

Whining, you pout, knowing he’s just teasing you for badness, “I promise I can handle it,” you say lowly, pumping his cock between your cunt and hand. The motion makes Heeseung hiss in pleasure, the feeling of his cock trapped only adding to his anticipation of being inside you.

He moves in for a chaste kiss on your lips, his touch soft despite the intense need between you, "I'll go slow," he tells you, his words a balm in the midst of the intense moment. Even in the heat of passion, Heeseung is driven by his instinct to protect you.

With one swift movement, he slides into your heat slowly, letting you stretch around him. Surprisingly to both of you, your pussy is accommodating him perfectly, the stretch a little painful but not unbearable. He shallowly moves his hips back and forth, watching his cock disappear into you further and further each time until he’s bottoming out and tapping your cervix lightly.

Heeseung isn't wrong when he tells you that no other cock you've had can compare to his. Every curve and ridge of his dick seems perfectly designed to hit every sweet spot inside you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. It's an otherworldly sensation, the way he gains traction with each movement, his confidence growing as he senses your comfort and willingness to take more.

"You're so tight, baby girl," he murmurs between kisses.

Lost in the throes of passion, you cling to Heeseung, your bodies moving in perfect synchronisation as you lose yourself in the sensation of him filling you completely. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, igniting a fire that burns hotter with each passing moment.

Heeseung's hands roam over your body, exploring every curve and contour with a hunger that matches your own. His touch is both gentle and possessive, his fingers leaving a trail of fire in their wake as they trace the contours of your skin. The pads of his fingers roughly grab your tit that’s managed to escape your dress, twisting your nipple between his finger and thumb.

Your hands are in a similar position, running along his toned stomach under his shirt, trying to commit it to memory, just in case you never get to do this again. You wish this was happening with zero clothes in the way but the desperation between you both got in the way. 

As the intensity of your desire builds, Heeseung's movements become more urgent, his thrusts growing deeper and more powerful with each passing moment. You can feel the tension coiling within you, the promise of release looming on the horizon like a distant storm.

“You’re squeezing me so tight, Y/N. I won’t last much longer,” he admits, knowing that he’s close to the edge himself.

“Need it, I need you to cum,” you moan loudly, your hand leaving his skin to find your clit, rubbing it vigorously as you try and speed along your orgasm.

Your words drive Heeseung to pound into you faster, willing both of you to come undone together. The car shakes as you both speed up your movements, your hips trying to match his rhythm to create a deeper impact with each buck of his hips.

With a final, desperate thrust, Heeseung drives you both over the edge, sending you spiralling into ecstasy. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you, leaving you breathless and trembling under him, the ropes of his cum coating your heat. 

“Oh, fuck,” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he feels his cock swell and throb inside of you, “Cum with me, Y/N. Please.”

Circling your arms around his shoulders, you hug him close to you as his body shivers, still reeling from the aftermath of his climax. You lay like that for a few minutes, processing everything that just transpired between you both.

“Are you okay?” he asks, holding himself up to face you, one hand wiping your sweaty bangs from your forehead.

Nodding, you shut your eyes, massaging his shoulders lightly as you let bliss take over you, “I feel great,” you smile.

Heeseung grabs your pants from the driver seat and bundles them up, using them as a makeshift cloth to clean you up, spitting on them before running them along your swollen cunt, “We can’t do this ever again,” he says quietly, his breathing starting to regulate again.

“What do you mean?” you lean on your elbows, looking up at him with confusion, “Was it not okay?”

Of course, it was okay, Heeseung thinks your pussy might be the best he’s ever had, but it’s not logical to try and keep this fantasy alive. You were too different, this encounter was fueled by anger and rage between you both, hardly the start of a picture-perfect relationship.

He discards your underwear and pulls his own bottoms up, tucking his softening cock into his boxers and jeans, “It was great, but I’m supposed to protect you, not fuck you,” he says, shuffling back into his seat, starting the car.

“We’ll use protection next time,” you shrug, fixing your seat to sit upright, “It’s no big deal.”

Heeseung sighs, his frustration evident as he starts the car and pulls out onto the road. "You know that's not what I mean, Y/N," he replies, his voice tinged with resignation.

The rest of the drive home is filled with silence, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. Heeseung's thoughts swirl with the fear of losing his job, the guilt of failing to protect you, and the sudden need to be inside you all the time.

“We forget about this, okay?” he asks, eyes flickering to you.

You nod in agreement, but a smirk tugs at the corners of your lips, betraying your true thoughts. Deep down, you know that you won’t forget about it, and this will certainly not be the last time you find yourself fucking Lee Heeseung - You'll make sure of it.

[boiohboii]

What's a soft launch? (Lando Norris x Leclerc! Reader)

YN Leclerc is dating Lando Norris in secret, and they had been keeping it really quite for the past 9 months, but unfortunately she is dating an idiot who forgot to close his stream.

or

in which YN Leclerc and Lando Norris make everyone watching his stream need to bleach their eyes.

N.B: this is something for fun and has no relation to real life people. Also, I'll be doing a sm fic based on this cause a meme picture is what started this for me.

WARNING: suggestive, no actual smut. Making out. PDA cause lando forgot to close his stream. Mentions of breast, nipple and bra. French not used properly?... if i missed anything else let me know!

Sighing, Lando stretched his back while calling for his girlfriend- letting her know that it's okay to come in.

"Hey handsome."

username: is that who I think it is!

username: ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

username: someone call 911 lando no rizz pulled YN Leclerc

username: I want yn to call me handsome too

Unaware of the fast chat the couple smiled at each other as YN sat on Lando's lap, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, wrists staying still at the nape of his neck while her fingers play with the soft curls of his hair.

"Hello ma chérie."

And that's all the older boy got to say as the young girl latched her lips onto his, tightening her grip around his neck while his arms rest at her hips, squeezing them as he lifts her up a bit trying to reach as much of her as possible.

username: AY YOOOOOO someone tell my man he is live and we can see that

username: THE GRIP HE HAS ON MY GIRL

username: ooofffff, Lando's funeral is gonna be tomorrow my dudes

username: F in the chat for lando

username: F in the chat for charles, he having a heart attack rn

username: my girl gonna wake up with bruises

Breaking away to catch their breath Lando's hand caressed her hips, moving until they rested on her ass

"Ohhhh, okay, are we going there."

"I don't know gorgeous, are we?"

Shifting around in the chair, Lano placed his back to the arm of the chair moving YN in front of him- unknowingly, making the viewers have a perfect view of their interlocking lips which were quickly followed by a gasp from YN as Lando pressed his hips into hers- thus allowing a perfect entrance of his tongue into her mouth.

username: OKAY THIS IS A FULL MAKE OUT SESSION.

username: LANDO IS DYING AT 25 MY DUDES

username: FFS SOMEONE CALL THEM OR SEND A SUB OR SOMETHING, WE DON'T WANT LANDO TO DIE

username: Holy shit, YN have mercy on your brothers

username: how to be Lando rn

username: THIS FEELS SO WRONG, THEY LITERALY HAVE THEIR TONGUES DOWN EACH OTHER'S THROATS

username: please lord, let Lando still be able to have kids after seeing the Leclerc brothers

Being interrupted by her ringtone did not deter the couple from their steamy activity, in fact it was like they didn't even hear it as Lando's right hand slipped into the girl's shirt roaming around her stomach as it rested in her breast.

Another ringtone...... Lando's left hand made its way to her bra's clasp, opening it with swiftness that made it evident it had not been the first time he had done that.

The way their tongues moved and their arms explored places they were already familiar with only comes with expirence. A lot of experience.

As the ringtone got repeated for the third time, Lando decided to slow down, removing his lips from hers while his right hand pushed her bra downward a bit, making him feel her hard nipple under his fingertips.

Moving her left arm from around his neck while balancing herself with her right arm, YN reached into her back pocket getting her phone out.

"Oh, it's Danny"

The cheerful voice of the girl filles the room

username: of thank god!

username: FINALLY

username: Lando, you will be missed

username: this has been the hottest thing I have ever seen in my life

username: I wasn't even doing anything and I'm out of breath

Answering the phone YN couldn't even get a word out before Daniel is screaming into her ear

"IT'S LIVE! YOU'RE FUCKING LIVE."

Snapping her head towards her boyfriend's set up, she quickly balanced the phone in between her ear and her shoulder while removing his hand from under her shirt, tipping as she attempted to close the live while holding her bra in place as much as possible.

"What? What's wrong?" Upon seeing his girlfriend's frantic behaviour Lando became alert, worried something might be wrong.

"YOU DIDN'T CLOSE THE LIVE!"

"WHAT!!"

In a hurry to get up from his position and close the stream he tripped over his own feet just as his hands reached the desk, and as an attempt to save himself from the fall he gripped the first thing within his reach- his keyboard and his mic- making them fall right on his head.

The sudden scream of Lando's and the quite comical fall (in YN's opinion) made her forget about the older man on her phone and about the entire issue. The only thing she did was double over in laughter that within seconds turned into a sound similar to that of a car's windshield wiper.

"Oh, I'm glad my pain is amusing you."

username: this is the best stream of my entire fucking life man

username: I have no idea what is going on, but I love it

username: this is hilarious.

SOCIAL MEDIA REACTIONS

THE BROTHERS' REACTIONS

THE FAMILY DINNER

[yesimwriting]

Okay, so, secretly pining best friends with Logan! Very fun! Loved it!

But also, adults do have "sleepovers," (too tired/drunk/late to drive home, so you crash overnight on the couch) and depending on the dynamic of your friendship, can actually be a little taste of what domestic life would be like together. Just. Sitting together quietly, winding down from a good day, then getting ready for bed when one of you decides it's time to be A Responsible Adult and get a decent night's sleep (you're not kids anymore, after all. Sleep is important).

Waking up in the morning, knowing your best friend is here. Quietly making breakfast together, laughing over how sleepy you both are before coffee, lightly teasing each other over bed head and morning breath. Doing your morning routines together, pointing out stupid shit in the news or bitching over work emails, just drawing out the time before you have to get ready to face the real world.

Imagine Logan being one of those sleepy bear types who grumbles until he fully wakes up, who's soft and warm and domestic when he's with someone he trusts. Also, I imagine that if you tease him about needing to shave in the morning, he'd be the type to chase you down and rub his scruffy face on you in revenge, which is basically how a scruffy guy marks you as his. (His best friend? His potential future partner? No, just his in general.)

a/n yes, a hundred percent yes to all of this

----

The soft glow of the bedside lamp has transported you into another world. A universe made up of the faint scent of detergent and the feel of warm bedding beneath your fingertips.

You blink. There's no reason to feel as drowsy as you do, not when Logan's spent the last ten minutes scolding you. Still, though, something about sitting at the foot of his bed makes it easy to give into your lingering haze. It'd be easy to fall asleep like this.

"Don't," the instruction is flat, "Stay awake."

His back is still to you, which means there's no harm in openly frowning. "I am."

Logan's sigh is nearly masked by the gentle groan of a drawer being pushed shut. He turns around, expression still pinched but much less irritated than before. "Barely." You part your lips, some nonsensical protest waiting on the tip of your tongue, but Logan beats you to it, "Here."

He's extending an arm, a piece of fabric clutched loosely between his fingers. You blink again, this time focusing on the weight of your eyelids. The gesture is such a sharp contrast from his earlier attitude, you're nearly overwhelmed by your whiplash.

You stand before accepting the T-shirt. "Thought you were mad at me."

He lets out a breath, the sound sharp enough to constitute a warning. "I'm not--" His gaze shifts towards the ground. "You should have called me."

This again. "I was fine." His eyebrows draw together with the same level of offense that he used when you first presented this argument. "And I wasn't even alone, I was with Jean and Scott." He scoffs. "And you said to call you if anything went wrong, and nothing did."

Logan walks forward slowly, his steps measured until he's close enough to fully deteriorate your already fragile train of thought. In an attempt to regain control, you lift your head to look him in the eye. He frowns as he raises a hand, his fingers coming to rest beneath your chin.

He's careful as he tilts your head back. There's a weight to his silence. "You're drunk." All you can think to do is blink. He's known this, it's the main reason he's been lecturing you since the couple that graciously allowed you to third wheel all night dropped you off. "You're unreliable."

"Not that drunk."

The correction doesn't ease him. He studies you for another long moment before releasing you with a tired sigh. Maybe you should take it easy on him. It's not his fault he has the heart and patience of someone that's lived two centuries. You sigh. "Fine, next time I go out, I'll wake you up to come get me, even if I'm totally okay."

He ignores your sarcasm with expert ease. "Knew you'd get it, Princess."

You squeeze the T-shirt's fabric between your fingers in an attempt to ignore the warmth threatening to crawl up your neck. "I'm full of understanding."

"Yeah," he mumbles flatly, turning away from you as he walks towards his bed. You watch him with an openness that a more sober you would have never gotten away with. Logan had come to the door in a pair of loose sweats and no shirt. It had been easy to ignore his appearance when you were still in the giggly stages of being drunk. "Go change."

An instinctual desire to argue almost has you protesting, but you are tired of your going out clothes. And the thought of getting to pass out in Logan's bed for a few hours isn't exactly unappealing.

You pull the T-shirt over your head. Logan says your name, but you're too focused on adjusting the hemline to react. The shirt's large enough to cover most of your upper thigh, falling only an inch or two above the dress you're wearing. You slip the dress's straps off of your shoulders before reaching beneath the shirt's loose fabric. You tug at the dress's zipper before slipping the material down your legs.

You pick up the discarded fabric, folding the dress before placing it on top of Logan's dresser. He's uncharacteristically quiet as you approach the available side of his bed. "You seem tired."

He leans towards his nightstand, arm stretching outwards to turn of his bedside lamp. His eyes settle on some point a little past your shoulder. "Not all of us are 20-somethings that can stay up all night."

It's a teasing comment, likely an attempt at preemptively limiting your usual 10 to 15 minutes of yapping before actually attempting to fall asleep, but it digs at you. Jean was the one that insisted on letting Logan babysit you, you wanted to let him sleep. "I didn't want to wake you up."

Logan shifts, his bent leg nearly brushing against yours. "I wasn't asleep," the words are low, careful, "But if I had been--you wake me up." He pauses. "I'd rather that than know you're walking around drunk and looking like that."

An uneasy heat spreads through your chest. You focus on the bedding pooled over your lap. Like that--the kind of comment that'd usually have you insulting the person making it for attempted slut shaming. But Logan's voice is too distant for you to find any insult in it, even in a teasing context.

You bend fabric between your fingers, pressing the nail of your thumb into the material. You nod once.

He shifts towards you, his warmth becoming impossible to ignore beneath shared bedding. "I sleep better like this anyway."

The words are uncharacteristically soft, almost cautious. You lean into the feeling of them, allowing your back to relax against a pillow.

You've shared a bed with Logan before, usually after hanging out with him a little too late and once on a mission where you had to pretend to be recently engaged to avoid blowing your cover. It's not exactly common, but you know how he sleeps enough to know that he's not exaggerating. As soon as he's asleep, he loses the ability to be aware of personal space, an arm across your waist and chin pressed into your shoulder.

"Considering the way you take up the entire bed, I'm sure."

He exhales, the sound more pointed than it needs to be. "You steal blankets."

You scoff. "That's so not true." The corner of his mouth pulls itself upwards, the look much too triumphant. What a lame argument--you don't steal blankets, you're not given a chance to. As soon as Logan's on you, it's nearly impossible to move. "Like I can steal blankets out from under your adamantium skeleton."

Logan tilts his head, eyes narrowing in a way that promises nothing good. "You're saying I'm heavy."

Well, when framed like that, anything can sound rude. "No." You press your lips together to keep from laugh. "I"m saying your skeleton is literally made of metal..." You straighten in an attempt to make yourself focus. "...And metal is--" Your mental hold slips, a soft laugh tumbling past your lips as you try to think of a politically correct way to make your point. "...Heavy."

He leans forward, his knee brushing against your leg. There's a tact to his movement, a deliberateness better suited for the violence of the outside world. A warning, you realize, a moment too late.

Logan shifts his weight. You laugh as his hands find a place on each of your shoulders. "That's the same thing."

Helplessly, you press a palm against his chest. Your halfhearted protests do nothing to sway him. You laugh again, elbow pressing into the mattress in an attempt to steady yourself. Logan moves a hand to the back of your head before letting the brunt of his weight fall onto you.

You let out a sound halfway between a laugh and a squeal as you're pushed down. Your head hits the pillow, but the suddenness of the motion doesn't hurt. His forearm is resting near your head, turning him into more of an implication than an actual force capable of crushing you.

You let yourself smile openly. For someone that's always willing to remind you of his age, he has no problem acting like a child. Your lips part, but the laugh attempting to crawl up your throat dies before it can slip out.

Logan's watching you, his eyebrows drawn together in a way you can't interpret. His warmth, the feel of him against you, all of it, loses its humor.

He stays like that for what could be awhile, or no time at all. Then, Logan shifts, his arm moving away from the side of your head. Before you can overthink the change, he's resting his head against your upper stomach.

He's--there's never been this much openness about physical contact. Sure, you guys are comfortable with each other, with you having no issue resting your head against his shoulder during movies or reaching for his hand after a particularly rough mission, but that's--that's usually you.

You force yourself to recover, focusing on your breathing to keep from outing yourself. With the kind of care you'd use to keep from scaring off a skittish stray, you move a hand towards his back. He briefly stiffens as you drag your fingers against his skin, but after a second, he exhales. "You're like a house cat."

You feel Logan's sigh more than you hear it. "I'm not answering that." That's okay. You're happy enough without his validation.

Things stay quiet, and you slip further into the realm between sleep and consciousness. "You--you're um--okay, right?" The question is stiff, maybe even a little awkward. You're so close to sleep, you can't bring yourself to get what he's asking. "Comfortable?"

You're glad to not have to hide your smile. "Yeah," you mumble, voice distant, "It's nice."

You're not sure what you're referencing, but Logan doesn't ask, so you decide it doesn't really matter.

----

The light is a tangible thing, felt against your skin before you can squint your eyes open to see it.

You shift, noting the dull ache of your head as you lift your hand to wipe at your face. Wait.

It comes back to you all at once--the drinking, the after drinking, Logan.

You open your eyes fully. It's instinct to shift, but it's nearly impossible to do much more than lift your head. Logan's asleep, his head resting against your ribs and arm draped over your waist. How did you not notice this?

It would make sense for Logan to be a light sleeper. Even when he's at ease, he never seems fully settled in the feeling. So you're careful as you move, head turning as you try to look at him.

Logan's breathing loses its consistency before you can fully embrace the privacy. His fingers press into your hip so briefly you almost convince yourself the contact is only a product of your early morning haze.

He moves onto his back, palm brushing against your shirt as he leaves you. "Morning, princess."

There's something comforting about hearing his voice first thing in the morning. "Good morning." The words are a little raspier than you thought they'd be, difficult to force out around your hazy discomfort.

The corner of Logan's mouth pulls itself upwards. "I thought 20-somethings didn't get hangovers."

You roll your eyes. There are a lot of aspects of Logan's personality that warrant old man jokes, but his alcohol tolerance isn't one of them. You roll onto your side, propping your head up on one elbow. "I'm not hungover."

The almost-smile grows into something more assured. You let yourself enjoy the easiness of it. "Sure you're not, bub." The response is so warm you have to work at keeping your halfhearted pout.

Logan shifts, the mattress dipping as he sits up. "C'mon." He turns his head, looking at you from over his shoulder. "You'll feel better after you eat something."

The mention of food makes you aware of a hollowness you hadn't yet noticed. The thought of breakfast feels perfectly settling. You sit up with a smile, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. "You're not gonna make me eat weird hangover cures, are you?"

He pushes himself to stand. "You're going to have to take that chance."

There's no humor in his tone, and his back is to you so you can't read his expression, but something tells you it's safe to follow him out of his room, anyway.

[kalki-tarot]

Your dream spouse vs. the real one ❤️‍🔥

You & your Destined fs 🌙

Take a deep breathe and pick a picture you feel most drawn to.

Disclaimer : tarot is not 100% accurate, this reading is just for fun. Tarot does not substitute professional treatment of any kind. I'm not responsible for any decisions you make on behalf of my readings. This may not resonate with everyone. Please be mindful of your own actions and thoughts ♡

I'll be very straightforward with whatever comes through and if you're not comfortable with that, please don't read this post.

Pile 1

Your dream spouse ❤️‍🔥 ‧₊˚

TW ⚠️ : tr*uma bonding.

You want the bad boy/girl type husband/wife. Someone who is impulsive, daring and savage. You may want someone who is your perfect match, and very compatible with you. You desire to bond over trauma with someone. You know those couples who've seen each other's most vulnerable sides. You want a very romantic and caring connection which goes till soul level. You may also want someone who is famous or well known or even who has power and command in the society. You like big surprises. You want to take care of someone who has been emotionally broken down or sad. You want to comfort a sad person. You want a spouse who has old money. You know that trope when there is a powerful person in the society, who's famous and all that, but they have love missing in their lives. You want to be that love to your spouse. You want a deep and intimate spouse who's cold to others but warm snd loving to you only.

Your real spouse 💓 ‧₊˚

33 and 66 can be significant. Your real life spouse is someone very hardworking and honest. They may like to socialize or be with family and friends. This is a very cute and homely energy. Your fs can be someone well known in their field for what they do. They are a family person, someone who's purpose is their family. They believe in long term commitments. They don't joke around, they want serious commitment or else don't enter their life. They may like to meditate or they are calm and composed, they don't seem to lose their cool easily. They are energetic and quick to make changes. They can be an engineer or in business. They are funny and cool. Their personality is very easy going and smooth. They may have emotional outburts a lot of times, but they don't vent it out on you. They may sometimes unknowingly disturb people and then get sad snd walk away when someone tells them something. Despite all of this, they can be of a very giving nature. They donate and do charity work a lot. They sometimes may have limiting beliefs that stresses them out.

Pile 2

Your dream spouse ❤️‍🔥 ‧₊˚

You want your spouse to choose you over any other girl/guy. You wanna be their top priority over anything. You want a mysterious spouse who only opens up to you. You want someone closed off from the world. You want a romantic person who is just like a gentleman/woman. Very caring towards you. You want an happily ever after with your fs. You want to have a rich and happy married life afterwards. Your fs may have a other women's eyes too on them. And they would choose you. You want a rich and wealthy fs.

Your real spouse 💓 ‧₊˚

Your fs may have many expectations of others on their shoulders which constantly makes them fight for themselves. Alright, this person is unhappy with their family or something. They get really sad about this. They somehow gather courage to do what others want from them. But they don't like it. And this is taking a toll on their mental health and making them hate everyone and everything. This thing came through so i told you. Let's get some more cards about their personality.

They want a stable and committed partner with a long term vision. They can be a hardworking person. They are undergoing a transformation right now with the death card. They are pretty emotional and romantic. They have the ability to give lots of love to you.

Pile 3

Your dream spouse ❤️‍🔥 ‧₊˚

You want to meet your spouse by destiny or fate just like kdramas. You want someone romantic, caring and loving to you. You may want someone who is like a reward to you. You want someone emotional, you wanna share an emotional and deep connection with your fs. You want a lawyer by profession? You want someone dominating, loyal and family oriented. Someone who works on a high position and offers you stability. You dream of a happily ever after marriage life with your fs. You want someone to heal or fix your broken heart. You want someone who listens to you without telling anything. You want someone rational as well as emotional, a balance of everything. That's good, actually. You secretly desire a soulmate for yourself.

Your real spouse 💓 ‧₊˚

Your fs may have two sisters. Your real life fs is someone who has a lot of options and choices in love but still, somewhere their heart says that no, there is someone else meant for them, that can be you. They're waiting for you. They are someone with a strong will and determination. They always act fast and logically. Whatever They're doing right now, they are starting someone new and afresh, can be a new start in life or work related. Their feminine energy can be a bit imbalanced right now. There is something which stops them from being expressive of their emotional side. This may be due to some childhood issues by a female figure i see. They are facing this blovk right now. But they're working on it.

[coolprettyleo]

we can't be friends (wait for your love) - luke hughes

luke hughes x reader

wc: 1.5k

tw: angst. fluff. arguing. breakup. no happy ending. not really proofread, got tired lol

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

your life had been going good, a little too good. you should have knew all too well that the daydream you had been in weren't going to last much longer.

luke hughes. the man who had stolen your heart and gave you the best memories a boyfriend could give a girl like you. for someone who's thought themselves to be the biggest hopeless romantic, meeting luke had been the light in your life.

you had met the younger hughes brother at a frat party. he had been running off a high after a good game and his normally reserved nature had cracked due to the adrenaline from the win, it gave him the confidence to flirt with you.

initially, you had thought he was going to be a casual hookup. you were taught the hookup culture early into your freshman year, when you thought the frat guy you slept with at your first ever party the night before was going to give you the time of day, once the cloths came on.

news flash you learnt something that day. men are sluts.

so when the star hockey player started flirting with you, you had thought it to be just another guy who wanted a hookup. you ultimately decided to live out your fourteen year old selves Wattpad dream and entertain the cute curly haired boy.

you were surprised when you opened instagram the morning after to find he had requested you and from there on out, the rest was history.

it didn't take long for you guys to become the golden couple of the university. you attended his games wearing his jersey, met each others friends and families, and most importantly fell in love with one another's nature.

everything was going perfect for the two of you, until the real world decided it wanted to slap you both across the face. hard.

luke's passion was and will always be hockey. you knew that when you met him and ultimately decided to jump into a relationship with him. you loved every part about him, including hockey; it's what made him, him.

the sport didn't come between the two of you until he moved over six hundred miles away to play it.

you knew it was coming, you've both talked about it but unfortunately talking about it and actually saying goodbye is two very different things.

you loved the curly haired boy but you were beginning to wonder if it was all even worth it anymore. it was clear long distance was not working in your favor.

it had been almost a year since he started with the devils. a year since it all went to shit. a year since this 'rough patch' as luke liked to call it started. surely a rough patch couldn't last this long?

long distance usually makes a couple or it breaks them. it seemed to be breaking the two of you.

you rarely got to see your boyfriend due to the fact he's glued to the team during the season, so it was up to you, to fly out and see him.

you hated flying. so almost every time, your stress levels shot through the roof causing the worst headache known to man kind to come across you. automatically putting you in a sour mood when landing.

flashback

"i don't understand why you're being like this, this whole thing is planned around the fact that the team wants to meet you!" luke said exaspertly as he helped her load her bags in his jeep. he talked about you so much that when jack opened his mouth about you coming to visit, the wags were quick to plan a get-together, and you had just said you weren't up for it.

"i'm sorry luke but I feel like crap. i dont want to put up a character and meet new people right now"

"then don't put up a character, be yourself. that's who I fell in lov-" he said as you rolled your eyes, wincing; seeing as it didn't help the slamming feeling in your head.

"I don't want to Luke!" you cut him off. luke took a deep breath and texted jack to let them know you guy's wouldn't be making it.

looking back at it now; it wasn't that serious. but that headache couldn't make you think straight. that had been the first fight between the two of you. you're pretty sure thats when all his friend deemed you to be the villain and told him he deserved better.

you began to believe that and you knew luke did too. you just wanted this story to die, you knew you'd be alright.

luke on the other hand was clinging to every inch of you he could get; while you clinged to your papers and pens; writing about your misery.

you loved to write so of course you were going to pour your emotions into these stories. hoping the book would understand better then Luke ever could.

you two were laying in his bed, cloths sprawled out across his bedroom floor.

you had landed in jersey last night, ready to pretend and be the picture luke painted of you.

the two of you had the best night, it had been a while since you last seen him and an even longer while since you last seen him and everything felt... right.

you should of known a storm was brewing.

you were leaning your head onto his bare chest, legs tangled between each other as you played with his curls, looking up at him. he was growing into being the most handsome man.

"im so happy your here" he said tracing down your arms.

"me too. I missed your face" you said as you leaned up and kissed his jaw as he blushed. moments like these made you want throw away all the doubts you had about the relationship.

"me too. i can't wait to wake up next to you everyday" he said as your blood ran cold. you were tired of tiptoeing and hiding around the fight you knew was to come.

he'd been wanting you to move to jersey since he moved, the only problem being, is that you didn't want to.

"what's wrong" he said as you moved away his heart falling too his stomach.

"remember how I told you I wanted to graduate first?" you said nervously. he knew you were going to graduate early and the excuse of school was soon going to expire.

"yeah, thats pretty soon. we need to start looking for a place, by the way-"

"luke-" you started, wanting to stop it before it got any further.

"I think it'll do good for jack and I to get space" he said jokingly as he kept rambling,

"I know you've always wanted to live in manhattan, we can get a place there, i can commute-"

"im not coming here after graduation" you said with watery eyes.

you were the villain, at least in this story.

you wanted to experience life. you were only twenty one and the idea of that part of your life ending before you even got to begin it made you want to spiral.

"im sorry?" he said looking at you like you just killed his childhood dog. he would wait for your love a million years, if thats what it took.

"luke- im sorry, but I want to experience things. i want to live this life and know every corner of it-"

"i don't understand. why can't we those things together?"

"im sorry" you said standing up, not really sure what to do anymore.

"are we breaking up" he said with a straight face. you knew he was holding back tears.

"for now, yes" she told him as he put his head down.

you weren't heartless, so you took a seat next to him as you wrapped an arm around him.

"hey, look at me luke. this isn't the end, I'll still always care about you, I want to see you succeed hughsey" you told him as he remebered the night he met you and you called him that.

___

future

luke had been doing amazing; breaking records in the NHL and living life like anyone his age should be. his life was going good.

he obviously missed you but he soon learned he was going to be alright, even though a part of him waiting for your love. your love to like him again.

the smarter part of him knew better, the story was over.

he got home from a game that had went amazing for him and set his stuff down as he opened instagram.

the very first picture being, one of you and your new boyfriend. he knew you moved on and moved to nyc. he's actually ran into you before, both of you acting like you didnt break each others heart into a million peices. acting like old friends.

the reason the picture made his heart drop was due to the fact you were holding up a ring as you looked into the eyes of another. another who wasn't Luke Hughes.

he couldn't do it. he tried, he really did. he wanted to see you succeed and live like you wanted, he just couldn't bare to see it without him in it.

he clicked on her profile as he hovered over the unfollow button. he oh so desperately wanted to pretend to be this daydream but he was reminded of the fact their story had ended. he hit the button and knew he'd be alright.

we can't be friends (wait for your love)

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

this was inspired by an edit I saw on tiktok, and obviously the song too lol. I can't find the edit but like yeah!

[the-8-of-spades]

She-Ra fics I consider canon

Hey gang! here's a list of (mostly post-canon) fics I've read over the years that are I feel are well written and in character enough that they could be canon to the show, and to an extent, each other! I put the list in order for anyone who wants to read it like a season 6 :D

Don't Go - extended version of scenes in S5E5 and S5E6. Written by ND Stevenson so is basically already canon. Angst and fluff

Daylight - picks up a day after the s5 finale. Catra & Adora begin to really understand that they're free to live a peaceful life. Tooth rotting fluff.

Pros & Cons (NSFW) - Bow and Glimmer seem joined to Adora at the hip 24/7, and Catra just wants to make out with her girlfriend. Has a couple lines that could be seen as contradictory or foreshadowing to Carry our Bodies. Mostly 3/4ths fluff, 1/4th smut.

Carry our Bodies Safe to Shore - Adora finds an old Horde incident report, and Catra has to tell Adora about the kiss that Shadow Weaver erased from her memory. Angst and fluff.

Keep on Walking, Come What Will - Adora & Catra accidentally get engaged. Pure fluff

Alternatively, Princess Prom 2.0 (One Year Later) - Adora & Catra get engaged on purpose. Pure fluff

^ honestly, I reconcile these two by head canon-ing that the "accidental engagement," happens at the impromptu princess prom and then they get too busy for a wedding and then the on purpose engagement happens at the real princess prom, because both are so well written and so in character.

Anachronism (and sequel) - Adora & Catra get traumatized again while rescuing Angella.

^ (Fic is pretty good, mostly on here because I haven't found any fit that does "rescuing Angella" better, lmk if you have any recs!). Angst and Fluff. I don't think there's any NSFW but it's a long fic and it's been a while since I read it.

If anyone has any other recommendations for this list please leave them in the replies! I would love to expand this list until I have a sixth season worth of content!! (also only one NSFW fic rn cause I mostly read fluff lol but if anyone has NSFW recs that feel canon send those as well!)

Addition 1: honorable mention for Breathing Room by ResFlower because it is almost IDENTICAL to a scene from one of the others where Catra has to break it to Adora that their fight in the Red Waste was actually Double Trouble.

[lesbicosmos]

six of crows is so incredibly hozier coded and to prove it ive assigned each character/couple a song and given a specific section of the lyrics

(i feel entirely normal about this i swear)

the books in general are 100% eat your young

There's money to be made, whatever's still to come Get some Pull up the ladder when the flood comes Throw enough rope until the legs have swung Seven new ways that you can eat your young Come and get some Skinning the children for a war drum Putting food on the table selling bombs and guns It's quicker and easier to eat your young

kaz brekker - arsonist's lullabye

When I was 16, my senses fooled me Thought gasoline was on my clothes I knew that something would always rule me I knew the scent was mine alone All you have is your fire And the place you need to reach Don't you ever tame your demons But always keep 'em on a leash

inej ghafa - would that i

With the war of the fire My heart moves to its feet Like the ashes of ash I saw eyes in the heat Feel it soft and as pure as snow Fell in love with the fire long ago With each love I could lose I was never the same Watch it still live in roofs Be consumed by the flame I was fixed on your hand of gold Lay in waste of my lovin' long ago

jesper fahey - someone new

There's an art to life's distractions To somehow escape the burning weight, the art of scraping through Some like to imagine The dark caress of someone else, I guess any thrill will do Would things be easier if there was a right way? Honey, there is no right way

wylan van eck - through me (the flood)

Any time I've struggled on Against the course Out on my own Every time I'd burn through the world, I'd see That the world, it burns through me

nina zenik - angel of small death and the codeine scene

Feeling more human and hooked on her flesh, I Lay my heart down with the rest at her feet Fresh from the fields, all fetor and fertile It's bloody and raw, but I swear it is sweet With her sweetened breath, and her tongue so mean She's the angel of small death and the codeine scene

(this is so nina post-parem)

matthias helvar - foreigner's god

Her eyes look sharp and steady Into the empty parts of me But still my heart is heavy With the hate of some other man's beliefs

kaz/inej - work song

When my time comes around Lay me gently in the cold dark earth No grave can hold my body down I'll crawl home to her

(this is just so i would come for you and if i couldn't walk i'd crawl to you i cannot)

matthias/nina - in a week

A thousand teeth And yours among them, I know Our hungers appeased Our heartbeats becoming slow We lay here for years or for hours Thrown here or found To freeze or to thaw So long we become the flowers Two corpses we were

(they're also incredibly work song coded, it was a struggle choosing between helnik and kanej for that one)

wylan/jesper - like real people do

So I will not ask you Why you were creeping In some sad way I already know I will not ask you where you came from I will not ask and neither should you Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips We should just kiss like real people do

[idyllic-ghost]

Title: Don't Forget About Me Pairing: Yeosang x reader Genre: established relationship, fluff, romance, idol au Wordcount: 4k Rating: PG 13

Synopsis: In the bustling heart of the city, two young lovers face the imminent challenge of separation. You and Yeosang haven't been dating long, but that doesn't mean that him leaving on a months-long tour is any easier—you'd even say it's harder. In the midst of you questioning your relationship, Yeosang gives you a gift to make his intentions clear.

Warnings: slight angst, feeling insecure about a relationship,

A/N: idk if yeosang and yunho still live together, i'm just going off the latest dorm update i could find😭

Disclaimer: The scenarios and depictions in my works are fictional and do not represent real-life situations. They do not aim to reflect the complexities of any culture, city, or individual. All characters are entirely fictional, regardless of names or descriptions.

Join my taglist // Masterlists

The café buzzes with the hum of conversation and the clinking of coffee cups, creating a symphony of ambient noise. Aromas of freshly ground coffee and baked pastries fill the air, mingling with the sweet scent of your latte. You sit at a small corner table, your fingers tracing the rim of a half-empty mug, the warmth seeping into your skin like a comforting embrace. Across from you, Yeosang nervously adjusts his glasses, his eyes darting between his watch and the bustling street outside.

He's wearing a cap, and the hood of his hoodie is pulled up, adding an extra layer of anonymity. His sunglasses lay readily on the table, a silent witness to his unease. You should have just gone to meet him at his place—even though you had been wanting to visit this new café with him for a while.

"Busy day?" you ask to break the tense silence, your voice barely above a whisper, blending into the background noise.

Yeosang puts his cup down, finally looking at you. His eyes are heavy with fatigue, dark circles shadowing his usually bright gaze. The weight of his exhaustion seems to press down on his shoulders, making him appear smaller, more fragile. If you were a little more confident, you would reach out to hold his hand—to comfort him.

"The usual," he murmurs, his voice weary and tinged with a hint of resignation. "Practice, meetings..."

He trails off, looking down at his mug, his shoulders slumping as if under an invisible burden. "Yeosang?"

"Hm?" He looks back up at you, and the sadness in his eyes makes your heart clench. The air between you feels heavy with unspoken words and impending heartache.

"What's wrong?"

He's breaking up with you. Someone found out, told the company, and now he's breaking up with you. The thought pierces through you, and you brace yourself for the worst.

"I'm..." Yeosang takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling heavily as he gathers the courage to speak. "We got the tour dates and... I mean, I know we'd be gone for a long time—I just didn't want to think about how long I'd be gone."

"Oh." You look down at your hands in your lap, your fingers intertwining nervously. The reality of his words sinks in, a cold wave washing over you. "That's... how long are you gone?"

"A couple months," he says, his voice barely audible, each word laden with regret. "Then we're back to Seoul for a week before going away for another couple months."

The silence is deafening. The café around you seems to quiet down, although you know it's only in your head. You want to be happy that he's at least not breaking up with you, but being away from each other for months isn't exactly better.

You look back up at him with a forced smile, trying to keep your composure. "You'll have fun," you say earnestly, though your voice wavers, betraying your true feelings. "And we can meet up the week that you're back."

"If they give me the time." Yeosang sighs and leans on the table, his fingers tapping anxiously against the wood. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing? This isn't your fault." You put your hand on the table, free for him to touch if he wants to—but not so forward as to reach out yourself. "You have to work—you like your work. I don't want to ruin it for you."

"You're not ruining anything." Yeosang sits up straighter, stumbling over his words. He takes your hand, and your heart soars at the contact, a glimmer of hope amidst the uncertainty. "Please, don't think that... I'll just miss you."

Then call me every day—facetime, text, send pictures...

"We'll see each other in a couple months, I'm sure it'll be okay!" You squeeze his hand before letting go to drink the last of your coffee, the warmth now a distant memory.

You can't even get out the words "I'll miss you, too," the tears stuck in your throat are already threatening to come out.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It takes a few days before you can see Yeosang again. By then, the tour has been announced, and you find yourself obsessively studying the tour dates next to your own calendar, scrutinizing every detail to see if you have enough days off to potentially travel to see him. Your mind races with possibilities, each one more uncertain than the last.

As the loading screen appears when you click to the next page, you catch your own reflection on your screen. Your eyes look tired, worry lines creasing your forehead, a testament to the sleepless nights you've spent fretting over the impending separation.

"This is stupid," you mutter to yourself, your voice filled with frustration, and click away from the tour dates before the screen could finish loading.

The what-ifs swirl around your mind, a relentless tide of doubt. What if he doesn't want to see you while he's on tour? The thought gnaws at you, and you'd rather stay at home than risk annoying him. Your eyes drift to your calendar, landing on the date marked at the very end of the month. Almost six months of dating. If you remember correctly, he'll be away when your anniversary date arrives—you try not to think about it, but the thought lingers like a shadow.

Your doorbell rings, jolting you from your reverie. You shoot up out of your chair, your heart pounding in anticipation. As you walk over to the front door, you fix your hair and readjust your clothes, trying to compose yourself. Your hand lands on the handle, and you take a deep breath before opening the door.

Yeosang stands there, a warm smile spreading across his face as soon as he sees you. He engulfs you in a hug before you can let him inside. You nuzzle your face closer into his shoulder, breathing in his comforting scent, a mix of his cologne and something uniquely him. He squeezes you extra hard, as if trying to convey all his feelings through that single embrace, before letting you go. That's when you notice it.

"You dyed your hair!" Your hands reach up to his head, threading your fingers through his hair.

"Do you like it?" he asks shyly, his eyes shining with hope.

It's a sweet, hazel brown color that complements his eyes perfectly. You can't help but smile as you run your fingers through his soft locks, feeling the silky texture against your skin.

"I think," you say, letting your hands fall to his shoulders, "that I need to update my lockscreen now."

"You like it that much?" He grins proudly, and you feel the butterflies letting loose in your stomach when he puts his hands on your hips.

You nod, your face turning serious. "It's adorable."

He smiles and leans in to press a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth—a silent "thank you." Your cheeks flush, and you quickly pull away from him. Just as he's about to say something else, you get a message. With a quick apology, you pull your phone out of your pocket to check it. Seeing as it was nothing urgent, you go to put it back down, but Yeosang stops you. He points to your screen.

"You still like that one, right?" he asks, referring to your lockscreen.

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and you look down at your phone again. It's a black-and-white photo of him, leaning against his hands and sending the camera a cheeky wink—his, then blond, hair messily falling over his forehead. It's your favorite.

"Of course," you say. "Why?"

"No reason..." He clears his throat and turns away from you, moving further into your apartment. "Did you order take-out, or should I?"

The two of you settle into your normal routine: sitting by the TV and eating take-out together. Now, the fried chicken boxes stand empty on your coffee table, and the two of you have slowly gathered up the courage to snuggle closer to each other. You like taking it slow with Yeosang—but it's kind of impossible to avoid. Neither of you wants to take the first step to initiate something, yet the unspoken longing hangs in the air between you.

You're content now, though. Your head rests comfortably on his chest, your legs thrown over his lap, and he's slowly playing with your hair. The movie is still playing, and from what you can tell, Yeosang is still paying attention to it. You, however, are transfixed with the way his heart drums against his chest. Slow and steady beats—thump, thump, thump...

You turn slightly, moving your head from his chest and placing your hand there instead. As you look up at him, you feel his heartbeat quicken under your touch.

"Are you staying the night?" you ask, your voice soft and hopeful.

"I have an early schedule tomorrow," he mutters and, when he sees your face fall, quickly adds, "But I can meet up with you again tomorrow night."

"Aren't you leaving the morning after that?"

"I leave in the afternoon, so there's no rush," he says, his voice soothing. "You can come over and spend the night, if you want to."

His heartbeat beats even faster, and you smile. "That sounds nice."

With much reluctance, the two of you move from the couch so that Yeosang can get ready to go home. While Yeosang is in the bathroom, you decide to take his bag and carry it to the hallway. However, clumsy as you are, you manage to knock it over. Out of the bag falls a black box, tied together with a red ribbon. You pick it up, noticing the piece of paper tucked under the ribbon. It's too big to be a ring box, so you allow yourself to calm down ever so slightly. Maybe it's just a gift he got from someone.

But when Yeosang comes back, his expression tells you something else. His eyes widen in horror as he sees you holding the small jewelry box. With quick steps, he's beside you and takes the box from your hands.

"You weren't supposed to see that yet..." he mutters, his cheeks flushing a deep red.

"It's for me?" you question, your smile widening.

Yeosang thinks you look like a puppy who's heard the word "treat," and he can't help but smile back. His shoulders relax, and he hands you the box back.

"I went to grab it today, that's why I was a little late." You let your fingers glide over the soft material of the ribbon. "I was going to give it to you before I left for the tour."

"What is it?" You go to undo the ribbon, but he quickly stops you.

"Don't open it yet." His cheeks are tinted pink, and he refuses to look you in the eye. "Open it after I've left."

"Not even the note?" you ask.

"Not even the note." He lets out a nervous chuckle. "It's meant to be for when I'm gone."

You narrow your eyes at him as if you could figure out what's in the box by looking at him. "Alright... I will."

"Thank you," he murmurs and presses a kiss to your cheek. "I really have to go."

Yeosang grabs his bag, and you're left standing in your living room with a box in one hand and holding your cheek where he had kissed you with the other.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You try so hard to distract yourself from the box, but it's nearly impossible. Working from home has its perks, but with the box sitting innocuously on your bedside table, your curiosity keeps getting the better of you. Each time you pass it, your eyes inevitably wander to the neatly wrapped present, the ribbon’s delicate bow taunting you with its mystery.

It’s just past one in the afternoon when you finally succumb to temptation. You tell yourself it’s only a quick peek at the note inside. But as soon as you loosen the ribbon, it seems only natural to lift the lid and see what lies within. After all, how could you resist?

The note is the first thing you see, its edges crisp and its handwriting perfectly elegant. “Don’t forget about me,” it reads. The simple message is enigmatic, and you squint at it, flipping it over to check for any hidden clues or additional writing. Finding nothing more, you shrug and turn your attention to the contents of the box.

Nestled on a plush red cushion is a silver necklace, its chain glinting in the light. At the center of the chain is a heart-shaped locket. Your fingers tremble slightly as you lift the necklace out of the box. You fumble with the clasp, finally managing to open the locket. A soft gasp escapes your lips when you see the photo inside—it’s a miniature version of the same picture that had been your lock screen until recently. You had just changed it to a new picture of Yeosang with his updated hair color.

The sight of the tiny image of your boyfriend, his mischievous wink captured perfectly, makes a smile spread across your face. The locket holds an intimacy and warmth that makes your heart flutter.

Later that evening, you arrive at Yeosang's dorm, proudly wearing the necklace. As you approach the door, Yunho greets you with a friendly smile and opens it wide.

“Yeosang, they’re here!” Yunho calls out, then turns back to you with a more subdued tone. “I’m heading out for drinks with some friends. You two have the place to yourselves tonight.” He gives you a playful wink and a charming “goodbye” before practically sprinting towards the elevator.

As soon as the door closes behind him, Yeosang appears, his presence instantly drawing your attention. He’s clad in the cozy hoodie you got him for his birthday, and his smile is a mix of bright excitement and shyness.

“Hi, baby,” he greets warmly, his arms extending for a hug. But before you can fully embrace him, his eyes are drawn to the necklace hanging around your neck. His gaze fixes on the locket, and you feel your fingers instinctively reach up to fidget with it, your cheeks flushing with a shy smile.

“Sorry,” you mumble. “I couldn’t stop myself.”

Yeosang’s face turns a deep shade of red as he realizes you’ve read his note. Embarrassment sweeps over him, and he quickly covers his face with the sleeves of his hoodie. You gently try to pry his hands away, your heart aching at his reaction.

“It was sweet!” you insist, though your voice is laced with giggles. “I really liked it!”

Despite your reassurances, Yeosang’s embarrassment is evident. He finally removes his hands from his face, his ears still flushed with a soft pink hue. “You said you wouldn’t,” he murmurs, his voice tinged with a pout.

“I don’t understand why you wanted me to wait…” you reply softly, a hint of confusion in your tone. “Did I upset you?”

Yeosang shakes his head, taking a deep breath to compose himself. “I wasn’t expecting you to open it right away. I wanted you to do it later because... I thought it might come off as a bit cheesy. You don’t usually initiate romantic gestures, so I was worried you’d find it silly.”

His words come with a pout that is both endearing and heartbreaking. It dawns on you that he’s been holding back, concerned about how you might perceive his gesture. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a warm embrace, and for the first time in a while, you lean in and kiss him first. His hands settle on your lower back, drawing you closer.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper as you pull away. “I didn’t know I came off as cold.”

“Not cold—just... indifferent, maybe?” His fingers nervously toy with the hem of your shirt. “I wanted you to tell me you’d miss me before I left.”

Your heart sinks at his confession. “I will miss you,” you admit. “I didn’t say it out loud because I thought it might seem clingy.”

“I want you to be clingy,” Yeosang confesses softly, his voice full of longing. “I want you to hold on a little longer when we hug goodbye. I want you to reach for my hand. I want you to kiss me whenever you feel like it, without holding back. It’s okay to be clingy, because I want you to know just how much I love you.”

You’re breathless, overwhelmed by his heartfelt confession.

“And I do love you,” he adds, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. “Very much.”

“I love you, too.” The words spill out before you have a chance to think them through.

“Good,” he murmurs, his eyes lighting up with relief and happiness. “Can we watch a movie now? I’ve set everything up in the other room.”

“… Can we cuddle?” you ask timidly, your heart full.

“Of course,” Yeosang replies, his smile beaming with pride.

“Then, yes,” you say, your smile reflecting his joy.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The day before your six-month anniversary with Yeosang dawns bright and full of anticipation. You navigate through the bustling corridors of LAX, your heart racing with excitement. The airport’s usual hum seems to fade as you focus on the surprise you’ve meticulously planned for him, with a little help from his fellow Ateez members.

A driver is waiting for you by the pick-up area, holding a sign with your name in bold letters. After a quick exchange of pleasantries, you’re whisked away in a sleek black car, the cityscape of Los Angeles blurring past the window. The drive feels endless, but your eagerness propels you forward.

The car eventually pulls up to the stadium, its exterior imposing and grand. Inside, the cavernous space is empty, save for the few staff members setting up for the evening's soundcheck. The massive seats are all vacant, and you envision them soon to be filled with eager fans in their designer outfits, cheering for their idols.

You’re escorted by the manager to the backstage area, which is located just beside the edge of the stage. With your VIP pass hanging proudly around your neck and the heart locket resting gently against your chest, you feel a rush of exhilaration. The jet lag that usually weighs heavily on travelers seems to evaporate, replaced by the electric buzz of excitement that keeps your nerves on edge.

As the members of Ateez finish their song, the room is filled with the hum of voices and the shuffling of feet. One of the staff members approaches them, instructing them to take a break. The members nod and make their way to the edge of the stage, their casual attire a stark contrast to the glamorous outfits they’ll don for the concert. Each of them flashes you a grin as they pass, their excitement visible.

You’ve managed to keep this surprise under wraps flawlessly. You even told Yeosang to call you on your anniversary so you could celebrate virtually, ensuring he had no inkling of what was in store. As you watch him approach, you can see the moment he realizes what’s happening.

“Y-You—” He halts abruptly, his eyes widening in disbelief. The murmur of amusement from the staff behind you only adds to the mounting anticipation. “What are you doing here?”

Without another word, Yeosang dashes towards you, his arms outstretched. He sweeps you into a tight embrace, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around. You squeal in surprise, your arms wrapping around his neck as he holds you securely. His warmth is intoxicating, and you plant a few tender kisses on his neck, savoring the closeness.

“Happy early anniversary,” you whisper into his ear, your voice tinged with affection. He clutches you even tighter, his embrace conveying all the love and gratitude he feels.

When he finally sets you down, he pulls back just enough to look at you with a mixture of wonder and joy. “I was so looking forward to our call tomorrow... I don’t even know what to say—this is so much better.”

He draws you in for another hug, and you laugh softly, feeling a sense of pure contentment. “I wanted to surprise you,” you reply, your heart swelling with happiness.

“You definitely did,” Yeosang murmurs, trying to loosen his hold.

“Can you hug me a little longer?” you ask, your voice soft and pleading.

You feel his smile against your neck as he agrees. “Of course.”

From your vantage point backstage, you watch the performance with a beaming smile, captivated by the sight of your boyfriend in his element. The highlight of the evening is when he dashes off the stage and heads straight toward you, sweat glistening on his forehead but his smile undiminished. You embrace him once more, the warmth of his body against yours a comforting contrast to the cool air of the stadium.

After the concert, the excitement of the evening lingers in the air as you and Yeosang make your way to the hotel. The lobby of the hotel is adorned with elegant decor—chandeliers casting a warm, golden glow and plush seating areas inviting relaxation. You had reserved a separate room for yourself, but Yeosang’s insistence that you stay with him overrides your plans. His hand remains firmly clasped around yours, his touch reassuring and steadfast as he navigates the hotel's polished marble floors and labyrinthine corridors.

The corridor leading to his room is softly lit, with dim sconces casting gentle shadows on the walls. The faint sound of distant laughter and the muted hum of the air conditioning provide a comforting backdrop as you follow Yeosang. His presence is a steady anchor amidst the whirlwind of the night’s events, and his warmth seeps through the touch of his hand wrapped around yours.

When you reach Yeosang’s room, the door swings open to reveal a cozy, dimly lit space. The soft glow of bedside lamps and the faint scent of lavender emanating from the pillows create an inviting atmosphere. Yeosang, weary but content, quickly heads to the bed, collapsing onto it with a deep sigh of relief. The luxurious linens and fluffy pillows offer a stark contrast to the hectic energy of the concert.

As he settles into the bed, you move with deliberate care, preparing for a quiet night. You gently help him out of his clothes, your fingers brushing against his skin as you assist him into comfortable sleepwear. The intimacy of the moment is amplified by the softness of the sheets and the calming ambiance of the room.

You then pull the covers up over him, smoothing them with tender care. You brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead, your touch light and affectionate. His eyes are already fluttering shut, exhaustion etched into his features. You curl up beside him, the warmth of his body providing a soothing contrast to the coolness of the room. Even as he drifts off, he instinctively turns towards you, his arms reaching out to hold you close, seeking the comfort of your presence.

In the stillness of the night, you drift into a restful sleep, cradled by the sound of his steady breathing. The tranquility of the room envelops you both, a sanctuary from the whirlwind of the concert.

The next morning, you awaken to the gentle pressure of Yeosang’s arms wrapped tightly around you. His embrace is firm and secure, a protective cocoon that shields you from the world. You snuggle closer, the soft fabric of his t-shirt brushing against your cheek. Your fingers glide over the fabric, tracing soothing patterns as you bask in the comfort of his embrace.

“Good morning,” Yeosang’s voice comes out as a muffled murmur against the top of your head, warm and filled with sleepiness. The gentle rumble of his voice is like a comforting lullaby, grounding you in the moment.

“Good morning,” you respond, your voice soft and wrapped in contentment. “I slept so well... and you?”

“The best sleep I’ve had in months,” he confesses, his voice tender and heartfelt. He presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head, a silent promise of his affection.

“Happy anniversary,” you whisper back, your voice imbued with love and sincerity. In the serene morning light, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside fades away.

feedback is always welcomed!

taglist: @d0nghyuck, @fantasy2wonderland, @niktwazny303, @wonwoospartyhat, @stariightjoyy, @hyneyedfiz, @crazywittysassy, @yeosayang, @notevenheretbh1 @iamawkwardandshy

[turvi]

id like to request an older!remus x wife involving them waking up together on a rainy Saturday morning 🥹

Ayee thank you so much for this request I hope you enjoy this.

Remus was up before Y/n, enjoying the sound of the rain pattering against the roof and the feel of the cold wind. He loved it when the sky wasn't too dark. And the rain wasn't too heavy.

He saw Y/n sleeping peacefully by his side. She looked so beautiful, but Remus wanted to share this peaceful moment with her. So he woke her up in the most chaotic way.

Remus blew raspberries on her shoulder. He smirked when he heard her groan. When they had first started dating 10 years ago, he would wake her up like a gentleman would. With sweet kisses. Now Remus couldn't help but be annoying to her after they had spent so many years together.

"I'm up...I'm up." Y/n's voice croaked. She opened her eyes to see Remus smirking.

"Morning dove, look, it's raining."

Y/n looked at him in disbelief. "You woke me up to see rain?"

"Yeah, look, it's such pleasant weather. I want to enjoy it with my wife." Remus said, kissing her neck and shoulders, knowing she would melt.

His breath tickled her neck, and she was no longer groggy and pissed. Y/n let Remus tug her closer to him. His stubble pricked against her skin. She gasped. "Growing a beard Mr Lupin?"

Remus smirked and ran his hand across his stubble. "Well, you did say beard might look nice on me, Mrs Lupin."

Y/n leaned in and whispered in his ear. "Are you trying to seduce me?"

She gasped when he pushed her back gently and got on top of her, his nose touching hers. "Maybe I am. What will you do about that, Mrs Lupin?" He loved calling her that. A part of him still couldn't believe this was real. That she chose to spend her life with him.

"Remus, we will get late if you don't stop." she giggled as he continued to kiss her neck and collarbone.

"Just 15 more minutes."' He mumbled against her skin.

..............................................

2 hours later, the couple held each other as they regained their breath. Y/n lightly smacked Remus' arm, which made him jolt. "You said 15 minutes."

Remus smirked at her breathless sight and shrugged. "oops. Let me make it up to you. How about round 2?"

Y/n scoffed and hit him with a spare pillow. In reality, she was just glad to see Remus happy and healthy. The war had taken a nasty toll on him, and Voldemort was growing in power and she was worried whether she and Remus would be able to see each other again or not.

This led them to get married while the war was going on because if their life was ending now, at least they spent it together, in each other's arms.

Y/n thanked the stars that she could see his bright smile again, hear him laugh, trace his scars, and let him know she loved him in this life and the next.

She wanted nothing else, but to be his forever, and Remus needed nothing else but her to be his side.

Remus was so thankful for her that he kissed her again, the kind of kiss you feel in every essence of your living, the kind of kiss that reminds them that it's over and they have each other again.

He leaned back. "Stay here. Let me make you breakfast." Remus didn't move until he drew circles on her hip and cheek, feeling her skin and taking a deep breath his heart reminding his mind she is here.

Y/n smiled "ok...but I will make tea. You add too much sugar."

Remus chuckled as she followed him to the kitchen, quickly preparing their breakfast to enjoy it in each other's presence.

A/N: I hope you like this. REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED

[brotherwtf]

we all know that they already act like an old married couple regardless of the au they’re in so do you have any hcs for if/when they are actually an old married couple? love you & your blog sm, it’s one of my favourites on here! 💛

oh my God that would be so soft!!! thank you so much for the ask anon!! I really appreciate the support 💕💕

I'm ignoring the fact that John died at 45 in real life, they will grow old together by God I will make them happy

I'm imagining them old and grey, still living together and going on dates even though they can't really goof off as much as they used to in their youth but they still try to goof off and have fun as much as the can

thinking Gale's blonde hair would turn white but still stays kind of full and John just has salt and pepper hair, but his beard and mustache get grey and white (sobbing)

Bucky would still drag Gale into their living room and sway gently while holding Gale, even though he can't dance as fast or sing as obnoxiously as they used to on base but still pulls the same smirk from Gale even though it's through glasses and wrinkles

John would still try to do dumb shit with Gale even though he can't really do it as well as he used to. he'll try to lift Gale up and Gale will tell him he's gonna hurt himself but he does it anyway, complaining about how he's not in the prime anymore

they still go on dates together, pottery, baseball games and museums, I'm kinda weeping thinking about them being "old timers" at games and all of the young couples just adore their love and everyone knows their names: "Buck and Bucky" the old married couple

Gale will still keep animals, he may not be able to ride them much anymore but he likes to bring his chair out and just sit in the paddock and have the horses come up to him, John will sometimes join him and creakily sit on the ground, resting his head in Gale's lap

whatever you do don't think about them dying like the old couple in the notebook, holding each other and staying with each other even as they breathe their last breaths together 🥹🥹.

okay this one made me soft weeping for clegan hours: open. thank you again for the ask, anon!!

[brainrotcharacters]

HIII! could you please write a nami x f reader?

maybe just them being domestic? like the side of nami most don't get to see, r always has

they've been together for a couple of years now

things like cuddling (facing each other), night routines, etc

r is shorter than nami too, top of head just barely (if even) reaching her chin (this is needed info for any hugs🤭)

pls and thank you! :) <<<333

ship: Nami x fem!reader

summary: A day in the life aboard the Going Merry, as Nami's girlfriend from home.

a/n: requested by @fairy-geek-ackerman

tags: reader is shorter than Nami, established relationship, cuddling, events occur after one piece live action season 1, events occur in the span of a day, I now headcanon Nami as gift giving love language, reader is physical touch love language, we vibe with Sanji because Sanji vibes with us, Zoro cameo

*

"There you are." You yawn, ascending the stairs to the stern of the boat. Nami smiled at the sound of your voice, one hand idle on the helm as she examined her maps.

"I'm not going anywhere, you know." The early morning sunlight was soft against her features as she peered up at you. The wind blew stronger for a moment, and her free hand shot out to pin the map page on the nearby desk.

You lift one of your daggers― decorative, inlaid with polished stone, and heavy enough to act as paperweight. You place it on the upper left corner of the largest of the maps. "I know. Luffy would get you back."

Nami chuckled. After Luffy and the rest of Nami's boys had freed Coco Village from Arlong's crew, they learned about the girlfriend that Nami left at home. It didn't take much for them to convince their navigator (Nami wanted for you to come with them anyway) to invite you onboard.

"Oh, wow." She stepped back, watching you pluck up all sorts of things from your pockets to help pin the maps in place. Aside from the dagger, she also recognized a bracelet with a real citrine stone, and a glass vial of dried blue paint courtesy of Nojiko. "You never threw anything away, did you?"

"You said you liked giving me gifts," you lean back against the desk, protecting the rest of the maps from the wind. "So I'll keep every gift you give me."

Her eyes softened, a combination of fondness and understanding as she studied you. "You're very... you."

Your lips curl up in a small smile. "I love you too."

Nami reached out a hand, and you stepped into her arms, the top of your head barely reaching her chin. Her grip around your waist was more affectionate and confident than before. You lift your chin, nuzzling into her neck.

The scent of tangerines clung to Nami's skin. She must have checked on the garden earlier. You breathe in the scent of home, the scent of her, and your own arms wrap around her body a bit tighter.

After what felt like an eternity but was only actually a minute, an elegant male voice interrupted the peaceful creaking of the ship's hull. "Isn't that adorable? I've never seen you be so affectionate before."

Sanji was smiling up at you both from the foot of the stairs, bearing a tray in one hand. Two steaming cups sat on the tray. "Good morning to you two lovely ladies. Made you your coffee, as requested. For Nami, two milks, one sugar; for Y/n, two milks, two sugar."

He reached halfway up the stairs before you happily accepted the tray from him. "Much appreciated, Sanji. Thank you."

"Of course," he tilted his head in a graceful nod. "Breakfast will be ready in an hour. I suggest you get there ten minutes before Luffy does."

Nami returned to the helm, smiling as she reached for her cup of coffee. "We'll be there. How'd you know what coffee I liked?"

Sanji motioned towards you, and you offered your girlfriend a sheepish, shameless smile. Nami smiled over the lip of her cup, rolling her eyes.

*

Even with your nose buried in the novel you were reading, you can feel Zoro's attention on you and Nami.

Both of you were sitting on the stairs at the ship's bow, Nami seated behind you so she could braid your hair close to your head. Her legs are braced on either side of your body, and from the way you felt them stiffen, you could tell she had a thin tolerance for Zoro's glancing. "What?"

He didn't need to be addressed, but still reacted. "Nothing."

You sucked on the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from laughing. You can feel Nami's frustration make her fingers heavier. Three... Two... One... "Since when do you know how to braid?"

You couldn't help but snicker, patting Nami's knee at your side. She understood your cue, and let you explain. "My dad taught us. Nojiko and Nami often visited the house when we were kids."

Zoro studied you for a moment, then turned his attention back towards the island several miles away. "All right."

Luffy wanted to dock here because he said he smelled something delicious, which Sanji interpreted as a personal challenge. Usopp had joined them out of whimsy. Luffy asked the three of you to stay aboard and protect the ship, but you heard Nami mutter how he just didn't want her and Zoro to keep him in line. "Think they're okay?" Zoro asked.

The tallest building on the island suddenly exploded.

Zoro looked surprised for all of two seconds before he groaned, rubbing his face in frustration. Nami's fingers froze in the middle of another braid in your hair. "Seriously...?"

You offer her a hair tie, giggling. "Just tie it where you stopped, and let's go."

*

That evening, when everyone had settled in to sleep, you and Nami laid together in bed. Your arms were snugly wrapped around her bare back, skin flush against your own. You returned to your natural position, lifting your chin to nuzzle her neck as she slowly untangles the braids in your hair.

Along with the creaking of the Merry and the sound of the ocean waves, Nami's breathing was incredibly soothing to hear. "So. You survived another day with these idiots. What now?"

You let out a quiet chuckle as you fell further into sleep. "You won't get rid of me so easily, Nami."

Her chest rose and fell as she sighed. "Good."

"Mhhm." you snuggled closer against her, and Nami tangled her legs around yours.

When you were able to find a comfortable position, you started kissing the skin of her collarbones softly. Nami smiled, smoothing out your hair. "Good night, Y/n. Love you."

"I love you, Nami." You murmur into her skin.

[dami-is-delusional]

Fighting or Flirting?: A Series of Confusing Events (seriously. someone stop them.) - Steve Rogers x ExHydra!Male!Reader

Summary: You used to be an experiment, curated by Hydra to be a living weapon. Somewhere along the line, SHIELD saved you and decided to place you with the Avengers. As the superficial leader, Steve Rogers tried his best to welcome you. Somehow it all went downhill from there... until it didn't!

(enemies to lovers, might not be the most accurate Steve, my second fic ever so i apologize in advance.)

PART TWO: Meeting the Avengers (and your downfall... jk it's just your future bf!)

If someone were to see your expression on the car ride to the Avengers tower, they would've assumed someone had just killed your puppy. But nope, you were simply upset that you had to join the team of heroes. Were you even going to get paid for this? Probably not. You sighed, the agent who was driving paid no mind. Now, one might be questioning why you were so against joining the Avengers. If it were anyone else, they probably would've been absolutely thrilled! Who wouldn't want to be in the same space as the heroes of New York? You. That's who.

It wasn't like you had anything against them. No, quite the opposite. You admired their heroism and their desire to keep people safe. You found it noble and extremely cool. It was like something out of your comic books. The real problem was the fact that you would have to work with them. As in teamwork. As in talking to them. As in socializing and having to hold conversations.

Due to your experience at HYDRA, you knew how to do many things. Like how to intimidate and interrogate people into giving you information. How to sneak around buildings without making a sound. How to end someone's life in 74 different ways. You know, the basics! What you didn't know how to do was how to interact with other human beings. Making conversation past a basic introduction? Not your thing! Turns out that being isolated from humanity for a good portion of your life doesn't exactly do wonders for your social life. When SHIELD took you in, you were perfectly content with going on solo missions where you only had yourself to depend on. That's what most of your life has been like anyways. It wasn't anything new. You went from one set routine at HYDRA to another set routine at SHIELD, both in which you were by yourself.

Now, you were being added to a team of people who already knew each other pretty well. You would be an outsider who didn't even know how to knock on the door. You didn't know how people behaved around each other. You didn't know how to get closer to people. You had very low hopes on surviving this. You sighed once more and the agent driver ignored you and your brooding once more as well.

The tall and imposing Avengers tower stood like a mean taunt. Poor little Y/N is going to have to function like a normal human being! Let's hope they don't secretly hate you! You looked up at it and grimaced. It almost felt like the building was making fun of you and already predicting your inevitable doom.

"Maybe doom is a bit much. Oh, who am I kidding? If I'm lucky, the building will explode and I won't have to talk to anyone," you thought hopefully. You looked at the tower for a couple more seconds. No explosion. You sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. Before you could decide to run away to India, you stepped into the building.

The elevator ride up to the floor you were told to go to was nerve wracking. Questions and doubts swirled inside your mind like a snowstorm trying to keep you frozen where you stood.

“What if I can't do my job properly? What if I can’t figure out how a team works? What if I trip when I step out of the elevator and that’s all they think about?” Luckily (and unluckily) for you, your thoughts were brought to a stop when the doors of the elevator opened. Taking a deep breath and giving yourself speedrun mini pep talks in your mind, you took your first step as an Avenger.

CRASH.

Several people stumbled over to the elevator and tried their hardest (and failed miserably) to look normal and stoic. Clint Barton and Tony Stark seemed to have toppled over each other in an attempt to be first. Natasha Romanoff and Bruce Banner approached in a much more orderly fashion, the former looking as though she was going to whack the first duo. Finally, the poster boy of all of America. Steve Rogers. How could someone look like a Greek statue and a golden retriver?

“So these are the Avengers… at least I didn’t trip!” you thought, feeling the most joy you could muster up from this day.

The owner of the building and the man who could probably buy your entire life with one phone call started to speak first.

"So you're the new member that Eye-Patch was telling us about! Welcome to my- our tower," Tony said in greeting, correcting himself after a sharp nudge from Natasha. You knew both Natasha and Clint since they were also SHIELD agents like yourself. You hoped that they could help you out so that you didn't actually have to talk to someone entirely knew about it.

"Yeah, I'm Y/N L/N," you answered simply. You were already off to an awkward start as you stood there, unsure of what to say. You had expected this, of course, but it felt ten times more unbearable in real life.

"It's nice to meet you. I'm Steve Rogers, welcome to the team," came a kind and gentle voice.

You looked over at the source and saw Captain America himself, smiling politely. What were you supposed to say to that? You didn't want to lie and say you were happy to be here.

"Shit, should I smile back? Do I say thank you? Oh wait, a thank you sounds right..."

Hoping no one took note of your obvious silent panic and hesitance, you cleared your throat, "Uh, thank you. I hope... we can get along...?" you weren't sure if you were actually replying or asking a question. At this point, you were just relieved that you managed to say something at all.

To your surprise, the recently defrosted Super Soldier just continued smiling. It was beginning to creep you out. "I'm sure we all will. We're excited to have someone new! You should join us for lunch, Stark is taking us to some shawarma place," Steve offered, his golden boy smile seemingly glowing and radiating with his optimism.

The idea of being thrown into a group social setting right off the bat made you want to jump out of a window. You prayed to some divine being that your face didn't automatically react and show your distaste to such a plan.

"I'm okay, thank you. I'm just gonna... find my room and settle down... and stuff," Lord, you wanted to shoot yourself because of how stupid you probably sounded to them. You saw the slightest falter in Wonder Boy's face but it was gone the next milisecond.

"That's alright! You do that. We can all get together another time," he suggested. You just sort of laughed awkwardly and walked past them with your bags. You wanted nothing more than to hide in a hole and never come out.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y is gonna help you find your room!" Tony called out as the group walked over to the elevator. You turned back slightly to nod in acknowledgement, even though you had no idea who the hell 'Friday' was. As you did, you noticed that Steve was staring at you oddly. He immediately looked away when you caught him. Weird... but who were you to judge?

The elevator door closed and you let out a shaky sigh. How long would you have to repeat the tedious and torturous act of making conversation? You picked up your bags, ready to crash into a bed.

Now for future references, if anyone asked you if you screamed louder than a tornado warning siren when a disembodied, robotic voice began talking, you will deny it with your whole body and soul.

So that's who F.R.I.D.A.Y is...

A/N: This totally did not take almost a full month to make, no you're just being crazy. I don't procrastinate EVER.

Side note, I don't know why I put this off for so long. I will try my best to be a tad bit more consistent in the future.

[not-goldy]

I just know when Jennie hit send on those paris pictures, she and Tae were laughing like evil maniacs. Do tkk really think because they are a loud group and trend Tk just cause they breath next to each other, they will somehow convince people Taennie never happened and Tk is real? The entire world watched Tae & Jennie's dating life get exposed little by little, by a hacker, until they took control of their situation and went public in Paris on their own terms. The whole world is laughing at that cult. So why are Jkks even entertaining Tkk at this point? Its pointless. They are always gonna claim atomix is a private date, even with proof from Atomix it was a OT7 dinner. They will always crop members or their friends to push their ship. Its a TK private date, but all members are there. Its a TK bowling date, but Wooga is there. Its a TK skiing date, but Wooga is there. Its a TK concert date, but Nicole is there with JK for some reason and Jennie off to the side and a wooga too that Tae leaves with. Its a TK vegas date, but Hobi is there. Its a TK house date with an impromptu live, but Hobi is there. Its a TK online gaming date, but Wooga is there and Tae living with one of his Wooga members. It's a TK LA beach & dinner date, but Jimin is right there and seems RM was at that dinner, since he posted a picture. Its a TK hotel date, but other people are there. It's a TK premiere date, but other people are there. Full blown stupidity. My ship is a couple, but they don't spend couple days together, confirmed, but they do spend couple days with others, confirmed. They spend time together, but on couple days, is where they draw the line and don't? Its Tae telling us he was alone and slept through Valentines and a couple weeks later its Jk out on White Day with Jimin for me. Two couple days back to back and NOTHING from your ship. MAKE IT MAKE SENSE.

Also HELLO? Tae had another man living in his apartment. Someone he also is extremely clingy to and all over when he's around him. And MF's act like JK is jealous over Tae. Bitch please. JK don't give a fuck. Tae out here with a girlfriend and another man living at his house and MF's think JK will just be okay with all this? I'm fucking wheezing. The man was doing cartwheels on live singing Jimin songs, the day the Taennie news broke. He is the most unbothered person when it comes to Taennie. So why not leave him out of Tae's business?

Also, Its Jikook taking their first trip alone and together, but that isn't a private trip. It's Jikook together alone on Silver Day in NY, but that's not a date and Jikook in Connecticut, but that's not a private trip. It's Jikook taking a private trip to Japan before enlisting, but that's not a couple trip. It Jikook watching The Avengers with no other members, but that isn't a date. Its Jikook ice skating alone, but that isn't a date. Its Jikook out shopping alone, but that isn't a shopping date. It's Jikook together on White Day eating, but that don't count. Its Jikook together during Chuseok, but again, it doesn't mean anything. Its Jikook together on JK's bday alone (bonus for Tae asking Jimin to come sleep with him, instead of the birthday boy, WHOMP WHOMP) but that also doesn't count. Its Jikook ALONE drinking, bridal twirling and hickey sucking, but that also doesn't count. It's Jikook enlisting ALONE and together. Like get the fuck out of here, your ship will never be in Jikook's league. No one is playing your silly fucking games anymore. You ship isn't real and you can't even argue it without looking like you need a straight jacket at this point. Tae put the final nail in the coffin and Jennie buried y'all, while Jikook walking together over your graves for the next 18 months. Its over and done. Move on. You got 18 months to get your life together.

Cook

[emo-trash101]

Hello! Its me again, i LOVED your Tyler and Aiden one and i'm back with one more. So think about it, Tyler knows baseball right? So why dont he use his bat skills? (is that what its called?) To beat the shit out of phantoms when they first go to the phantom dimension? Maybe something like thr reader gets pulled by a phantom and tyler crashed the phantoms head with his bat?

I love this! Fr this, like man, put yourself to use for once 😭 I'm putting this at like the first-ish part when they all get attacked on the bus.

Home Run

Tyler x Reader

Pronouns: Second person

Word count: 491

Tw: Uhhh bashing in heads??? also blood.

So this wasn't exactly how you expected to be spending your nights with your boyfriend. Usually you would've expected sitting with him in his bedroom watching some stupid cringy movie or you forcing him to play a random game you found the night before. On the other hand, you haven't really had a night like that with him since Savannah, so what did you honestly expect?

Well regardless of how you feel about being unable to live your best life, you don't have a choice. You lay in your bed, waiting for it to finally hit midnight, like it has every other night. As you lay there you feel your mind wandering, and eventually you start thinking about where you all were last night. The bus graveyard, you were all running. But before you can finish the thought, you black out.

Almost as soon as you open your eyes, you hear Ashlyn whisper "Duck" and you, along with the others, crouch down almost in unison. As you all get down everyone starts brainstorming how to get out of this situation, how to get away from the lurking phantom. You sit there silently, almost in a trance, anxiety coursing through your veins.

After about a minute of debating, Ashlyn perks up and her eyes widen slightly, a sight you've gotten used to. She hushes everyone and after a second says "Hide under the seats.". You along with everyone else start army crawling under the seats, peering out periodically to see if the phantom is nearby.

As you try your best to stay still, you hear a semi loud creak. A creak thats too loud to be safe. You cover your mouth with your hand, your breath becoming more frantic with each passing second. You turn to look behind you and before you can do anything, the phantom grabs you by the ankle, pain searing up your leg as you let out a scream.

"(Name)!" You hear yelled, too freaked to be able to figure out whose voice it was. You grab onto a seat above you and start trying to pull yourself up while (attempting to) kick the phantom away. You let out pained grunts as the phantom digs deeper into your ankle, managing to weaken your grip on the seat above you.

You almost give up, the pain becoming almost unbearable for you, but before you let go, you hear a crunch. A loud disgusting crunch. And almost immediately afterwards, the phantom lets go, letting you pull yourself up.

You push yourself out into the aisle, seeing Tyler panting with a broken wooden bat and the phantom laying limp on the ground. You look at Tyler, tears in your eyes either from fear or pain. "Ben! (name) needs help!" Tyler shouts, running to you and pulling you into his arms.

This is when you're finally able to look down, and all you see is blood staining your pants, shoes and socks. It's slowly dripping onto the floor of the bus like a melted ice pop. As you stare at it, almost everything stops. You know Tyler is trying to talk to you to make sure you're okay (you're very obviously not) and you can see Ben tending to your wound with everyone else either staring at you or the dead phantom. But none of it feels real.

After a couple minutes Ben finishes wrapping your wound and Tyler pulls you closer to him (if that was even possible). "Please don't ever do that again" he says softly and he genuinely sounds worried. You nod in agreement and for just a moment, this feels a little better than a cringy movie night.

Omg I'm so sleep deprived, but I hope this turned out good :)

[ssinboo]

As it was

summary: There’s nothing that nourishes the ego more than envious looks from old classmates. At a ten-year class reunion, Seungkwan is looking forward to enact his long-term revenge plan. When it all comes crashing down, you're helping him pick himself up the only way you know how.

or

You and Seungkwan are occasional friends with benefits

pairing: fwb!Seungkwan x Reader, they bicker a lot but don't hate each other enough to call it enemies lol

word count: 5.4k (20~ minute read)

warnings: toxic couple, unprotected sex, unresolved feelings, alcohol, sex in a public place, oral (f rec.)

a/n: happy new year and happy valentine's day! I'm immensely thankful for the past reception of my fics <3 thank you so much! I do have a couple ideas for a sequel on this, which makes me insanely excited <3 I hope you like it ^_^

There’s nothing that nourishes the ego more than envious looks from old classmates. The same eyes that underestimated now quietly calculate the overpriced budget of designer clothes.

Ten-year high-school reunion? That’s just what Seungkwan needed to flaunt his new prime spot as a host of "Bad Clue." He’s certain no person alive in this century hadn’t heard of him and his many accomplishments, but it felt good to rub it in.

“Oh, Seungkwan? I saw you on TV, do you think you could sign this for me?”

It’s a phrase he’s heard all night as his old high-school mates pour into the cramped barbecue restaurant. Not many dare to converse besides the cheeky favour. “Do you think you could get my resume in?”

Why did he even come?

Ah, that’s right. His first love, Lee Sohee.

She’d completely abhorred his very existence, but now, no one could. He’d make his comeback and completely captivate her heart only to get his revenge by giving her a taste of her own medicine.

“Did your injections go wrong? you can’t smile.”

The sound of your voice makes Seungkwan cringe. He scoots away when you plop down on one of the free seats to his side.

“Why are you here?” He spits back, watching you struggle to open the Soju bottle.

“You looked miserable,” You flash him a mischievous smile.

Your relationship was complicated, to put it kindly. Living in a small town, Seungkwan had known you his entire life. You were classmates throughout all of school and you haunted your way around him all through university, as well.

He said everything he knew about you had been against his wishes. And part of it was true, with how much time you inevitably spent together, you became closer than planned.

It was during his first year of uni when someone implied he was unpopular with girls and he panicked. Saying ‘of course not!’ He even had a girlfriend; You, the first girl that came to his stupid drunk mind.

Oh, you had a field day with that one. It was easy using it as blackmail material, getting a ride anywhere, takeout, and help with your homework. Seungkwan practically lived at your place, cleaning up and making you breakfast every day. University was a breeze for you after he dug his own grave.

“Seeing your face made me miserable.”

You scoff.

Seungkwan mumbles some curses under his breath and snatches the bottle away from your hand, opening it with ease. You cheekily hold your cup up.

A couple months into the pretend relationship, you decided to try it out for real. Not that anything changed except for the physical part, it was a convenient relationship until the very end, with none of that lovey-dovey bullshit. You parted ways when Seungkwan got into one of the many companies he auditioned for and left for the capital.

Motherfucker never even bothered breaking up with you.

You had a lot of fun being dramatic in front of his mother and getting him in trouble for that one, too.

“How long you in town for?” You raise your shot glass toward his with a satisfying ‘clink’ before downing the liquid in one go.

“I’m leaving tomorrow morning,” He replies curtly, finishing his own shot.

“Wow,” You hiss at the burning in your throat, shooing it away with a shake of your head. “Forgotten your roots, already?”

He scoffs, “I have to work, dumbass.”

“When’s your flight?”

“Eight hours.”

Widening your eyes, you can only stare at him in disbelief, “Why are you here? You should be fuckin’ sleepin’ or somethin’.”

“Not yet.”

And you’re hit with the stupid epiphany over the reason Seungkwan is so damn intent on watching the door.

“Oh my God, Kwannie,” You groan, dramatically flailing in your chair at that fact. It’s been a decade already, he’s like a superstar, why is he so hung up on this?! “Just… Stop! This is getting sad!”

“Mind your business.” He hisses, pouring himself another shot to help cope with your presence. That’s what he tells himself, it’s totally your cringey voice and not the anxious blackhole that has set in the pit of his stomach.

“I’m serious, why are you in love with her?” You lean closer, and your concerned gaze burns him.

“I’m not! This isn’t love! This is revenge!”

You sigh, patting his shoulder, “I know, buddy, whatever you tell yourself.”

Seungkwan lets out a frustrated groan, “Why can’t you just— Mind your business?” He shoves your pity pats away.

Turning around, you stand up. “Oi! DK!” You yell, setting Seungkwan in complete panic mode.

“No! No! No!” Seungkwan tries to shut you up by placing his hand over your mouth but it’s too late, you’ve caught the attention of the loud drunk.

“Aye! My gorgeous! You called?!” Seokmin stumbles toward where you sit.

Seungkwan gives up with a frustrated sigh and plops back on his chair, taking you down with him.

Seokmin and Sohee were polar opposites, she was popular and elegant. Every guy wanted to date her while every girl wanted to be her. She excelled in all classes and was loved by faculty and student body alike, she was student council president and never let anyone forget that. While Seokmin was a loudmouth, always making people laugh, not too long into his second year of high school, his teachers gave up on making any information go into that thick skull of his. He compensated his single-digit IQ with the kindest heart possible in a human male.

“Where’s our princess Sohee?” You giggle, leaning over Seungkwan’s shoulder to face Seokmin.

“Ah! My beautiful, precious, gorgeous noona!” He announces with a bright smile. You can’t help but laugh at his intoxicated antics. “She said she’d pick up the invitations after work, she’ll stop by later.”

“Invitations for what?!” Seungkwan whips his head around. You’re the only one that notices his jaw trembling.

The word doesn’t take a genius to know its many connotations; Especially the only one that made sense in the context.

“AH!” Seokmin claps his hands. “YOU DON’T KNOW!” He laughs, only building up suspense. “Sohee is getting married.”

Ah… He screwed up.

All of a sudden, there’s no fucking reason for all this. The carpet has been swept from under his feet without a moment’s notice. Everything has built up to this moment and for what? Sohee is getting married and didn’t even bother to send a message.

She wouldn’t care.

He could stand before her, wave his shiny accessories, flaunt his status and she would be happily married.

Everything so far wouldn’t mean anything if he didn’t get his fucking revenge.

You watch as Seungkwan clenches his fists under the table, biting into his lips. Seokmin, of course, doesn’t notice the way the news was taken and has entered a monologue on how happy his older sister is with the matrimony.

Before you can call his name, Seungkwan bolts from his seat, leaving you and his belongings behind.

“He has a flight to catch soon! Thanks, DK!” You yell, hastily gathering up your bag and his coat and stumbling your way out of the restaurant to follow Seungkwan.

“Kwannie! Kwan! Stop!”

He pays you no mind, stomping his way toward his expensive rental and you quicken your pace, high heels loudly clacking against the asphalt.

“Seungkwan! STOP!” You snatch the keys away from his hand and shove your body between him and the door. “Are you fucking crazy?! You’re not driving.”

That seems to wake him up from his anger-induced trance, but now that you’re close, you seem like the perfect target to channel his rage.

“Get out of my way.” He hisses, eyes glazed in deep-rooted hatred that burns its way through his veins, its flames feeding on the very oxygen he inhales in shallow breaths.

You cross your arms, reciprocating his heated stare.

Seungkwan breathes in, ramming his fist against the doorframe only an inch or two away from your face. You’re not proud to say how hard you flinched.

“Fine, I’ll walk.” With a sigh, he just leaves you there.

“At least take your fucking jacket.” You jog toward him, juggling both your coats as you try to swing your bag over your shoulder, “What if you get sick? Your manager will kill you—“

Seungkwan turns around and snatches his expensive item from your hands, returning to his fast pace afterwards.

You struggle to keep up in your platform high-heels, so you shrug them off and run. Your tights will only protect your feet for so many steps but you’re too intoxicated to think that far.

He sighs at your unbothered smile and quickens his step. His legs might be long and slender, but you have quite the stamina and willingness to be a menace.

“Where are you staying?” You ask, hoping there would be a cab available downtown to escort your angry friend.

“Mind your business.”

You click your tongue.

Gathering up your courage, you blurt it out:

“I thought you knew.”

Seungkwan halts and turns around just in time for you to crash into his chest. His lungs heave with curt breaths, and he swallows hard, eyes studying your face for a sign of jest. There isn’t any.

“You knew? You knew?!" His fingers dig deep into your shoulders as he shakes your body, jaw tight in anger.

Sohee wasn’t just a pretty girl, I mean, she was– is, gorgeous. But that was never the reason young and impressionable Seungkwan fell for her, no. He was a chubby-cheeked, awkward boy who blushed at just about anything, and she was a goddess, descending from heaven to help him gather his scattered books back into his hand-me-down backpack. And he held this crush, letting it root deep into his teenage heart and blossom into first love. He talked about her all the time, his every waking thought plagued by Sohee, you remember how angry he got whenever one of his sisters teased him about it.

Entering High-school, he gathered up his courage and on the last day of school, he confessed.

And she had this look on her face, of utter and total disgust. As if he wasn’t even worthy of the oxygen he consumed. He was a mere bug that dared to enter her sight. She never uttered a word, but she didn’t have to; As her friends threw insults, crushing his weakened spirit, Sohee laughed.

The following year, he’d become someone totally different.

You can’t find it in your heart to mind his reaction, you actually understand it and you feel nothing but sorry, “I mean… She wouldn’t shut up about it. The whole town knows, I thought your mum had told you.”

“She didn’t.”

He lets go of you with a push and you stumble slightly.

You adjust your bag strap, “I figured…”

It seems the news finally settle into the pit of his stomach as Seungkwan runs his fingers through his perfectly styled hair with a heavy sigh. It crunches slightly under the weight of his fingers.

He’s a thirty-year-old man crouched down in the middle of a deserted road in his minuscule hometown, grieving his ten-year-old plan of getting revenge on his first love. God, the paparazzi would have his ass had he been in Seoul.

But in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, the only audience is you; And despite your track record, you show empathy, like a real, feeling, breathing, human being and not a folklore swamp witch that ate children for breakfast.

“Come on,” You announce, jogging up to grab his wrist and drag him before he can protest.

The school was very well-located. Standing strong in the very middle of town, its pebbled paths are still the same decade after decade.

The trees stand strong, far older than either of you and certainly outlive you. Its leaves are a bright shade of green this time of year, lively and healthy. God, you skipped so many classes under that shady spot behind the gym.

When you stop at the side gate, Seungkwan is horrified.

“You’re not planning to break in, are you?”

You roll your eyes, digging around in your purse for your crowded keychain. It’s dangling with many keys, but they are outnumbered by the sheer amount of keychains you have. Childish and colourful they make all sorts of noises as you look for the right key. When you unlock the gate, his surprise is visible for almost an entire minute.

“I keep forgetting you’re someone with a job, given how nosy you are.”

His dig goes ignored as you pick your heels back up and head in without further notice. Seungkwan had no choice but to follow lest he wanted to stand on a deserted road in the middle of the night with nowhere to go.

It’s a weird feeling coming back to your old high school after so long. The walls feel all too familiar at the same time they feel foreign. Scattered memories find their way into your thoughts as you navigate the ambience. Every corner holds a moment that would change you forever, that shaped you into the person you are. And yet, the decor has not changed, despite how much you have.

“I’ll give you an exclusive tour through our lounge, how about that?”

You stretch your arms in a flashy way, pushing open the door labelled as “Teacher’s Lounge”.

Becoming a middle school teacher was far from being your dream since childhood. It was something you had never thought of, but it felt natural once you received a recommendation from the guidance counsellor. Seungkwan bullied you over your sad, boring, life and how you were doomed to live in the middle of nowhere until you are wrinkly and old.

In the lounge, there are desks neatly arranged in the middle as well as a sofa in the corner with a fridge and a microwave. The decoration is minimal, a framed prize of excellence that’s almost three or four decades old, but it’s the only one you have to display.

You launch your heels and bag toward the couch and bee-line for the fridge. All while Seungkwan feels out of place in such a saintly space for teachers, the child in him feels naughty for entering the lounge without being invited by a grown-up. (You don’t count.)

Just behind the leftovers, in a box labelled “Frozen peas" was your communal stash of booze. Of course, no one was drinking on the job, but sometimes when you and your co-workers stayed back way past the sunset, you’d crack open a bottle to share.

“Is that allowed?!” Seungkwan widens his eyes at the familiar green bottles.

“It’s allowed as long as you mind your damn business,” You hiss, comfortably dropping into the battered old couch and patting the seat next to yours.

Giving up, Seungkwan cracks open his bottle and plops down next to you.

With a mischievous smile, you stretch your legs over his, laying down by the couch arm. He doesn’t even bat an eye, not as much as a side-eye or grumble. God, he must feel like shit.

“What’s the plan for now?” You ask.

Seungkwan sighs, taking a long sip.

“I don’t know… It’s meaningless.”

“There’s still plenty of ways of making her miserable,” You announce, taking a sip before announcing your marvellous idea. “Oh, you could crash her wedding!”

He gives you a half-hearted laugh, it eases the anxiety that looms in your stomach.

“And go to jail? Lose my career?” Shit, he has a point. You hate when Seungkwan has a point. “No, thanks.”

You’re deep in thought, mulling over ways to obliterate Sohee’s happiness in the cruellest form possible when he speaks up.

“I’m pathetic.”

There are no other words the egomaniac, arrogant Boo Seungkwan could say that would break your heart. The atmosphere feels wrong, having those words dissipate into the air, become a reality as soon as he speaks them out loud.

“No. No, you’re not” You lean forward, a light hand coming to touch his shoulder.

You wish you had better words, you wish you could be normal for a second and be serious about your emotions without roundabout ways of making the conversation lighthearted lest you actually acknowledge how much he means to you.

“Yes, I am. I’m almost thirty and I’m still fucking hung up on her—I mean, is that pathetic or what?

“Kwannie, shut the fuck up, you’re our national treasure. Everyone we went to school with WISHES they were in the place you are right now.”

He shakes his head, but you don’t allow yourself to be interrupted.

“Didn’t you see how everyone looked at you tonight? You stole the spotlight from the moment you walked in. You have everything you worked for.” Seungkwan is quiet, biting on his lower lip. He appreciates your words and it’s implied by the small pat he gives to your thigh.

You’ve got the bottle attached to your lips as you toe off your ripped tights, peeling them off your tired legs. No saving this pair, too bad, they were brand new. Warm alcohol buzzing down his throat, Seungkwan is almost hypnotised by the sight of your creamy thighs peeking from under your skirt as you struggle with the fabric.

“I could fuck her husband,” You joke, throwing the useless tights across the room and barely missing the trash can.

“No. No, you can’t,” His tone is so overly-serious you just can’t help but elaborate.

“That would ruin her wedding— Or do you mean I couldn’t seduce him? I mean have you looked at me? I could totally bag that snarky city boy,” You’re so engulfed in your argument, pulling your waistband over your feet that you don’t see Seungkwan leaning over to pull you into his lap.

“No, I mean. I won’t let you,” He stares deeply into your soul, hot breath hitting your lips, “You’re not allowed to fuck him.”

It’s the booze. It has to be.

I mean, why else would you, out of everyone, find this somewhat possessive behaviour so fucking hot?

Maybe it’s just how out of character it feels. Seungkwan always treated sex, with you at least, as such a mundane activity.

“wow. Sexist much?” You laugh awkwardly, wrapping your hands around his neck.

He smirks, “What? Like it doesn’t make your pussy wet?”

Your breath hitches and your mouth feels dry, dry and lonely, especially when his lips look so soft and rosy covered in his high-end tinted lip balm. You’d like to think it’s the alcohol clouding your judgement and that you are not that desperate for him in your other encounters.

Hypnotised by his lips, you’re melting into his body, finding your place on his lap. Every slight move of your hips his thighs tense up, your skirt has ridden far enough for your clothed core to touch his bulge, a shameful wet patch finding its way on the fabric.

“Say it again,” You ask and it’s a breathless plea that tickles his nose with lustful intent. Seungkwan smiles, eyes locked on the way you bite at your lower lips, so eagerly awaiting him.

“I won’t let you, you will not leave my sight,” He says, his adam’s apple bobs up and down in a dry swallow, “You can’t fuck anyone else.”

And you find his lips, consumed by your want. Mouth crashing on his with the weight of burnout, alcohol and horniness buzzing through your veins; Only heightened by how long it’s been since your last rendezvous.

Seungkwan holds your waist tight, fingers burying into your skin, leaving his mark everywhere they touch. He pulls you into his chest, impossibly close and even then, it’s not enough.

He groans into your mouth and you greedily swallow every sound he makes, eager to devour everything he will let you have, you will wait on hand for every drop of attention if you have to.

Arms secured around your hips, Seungkwan leans back. You’re still glued to his lips, chest flushed with his; Hips mindlessly grinding against his slacks, every bit of friction a blessing bestowed on his strained erection.

“Come up–” He says, lessening his grip on your waist.

“Wha… What–” You’re panting against his lips, breath tickling sensitive skin making him regret parting the kiss.

“Ride my face–” Oh.

Well, he didn’t have to say it twice.

Blood is rushing to your lower bits so fast you almost feel lightheaded, you want nothing but to crush his head between your thighs until he is out of breath and moaning nothing but your name.

He licks a long strip, moaning against your cunt at the intoxicating taste. Unconsciously, you’re thrusting your hips at his tongue, spreading your slick around his face.

Every time felt like the first when he tasted you on his tongue, when you dripped onto him, melted into his lips so willingly. When you moaned his name and chased your high, using him as you wished.

His nose bumps against your clit, making your body flinch instantly at the friction. Seungkwan chuckles against your cunt, tongue focused on prodding at your expectant hole. You gulp, reaching your hand to grab fistfuls of his hair, it crunches softly under your fingers, the hair pomade smells of tangerine.

Fingers digging into your flesh, he leaves crescent moons tattooed into your skin; part of you wishes they would last, constant reminders of him and every emotion that follows, you wish this moon cycle ended in something other than being left on read.

But at this moment, as Seungkwan eats your pussy like a starved man, bringing your hips closer and closer as if you were the very oxygen in his lungs, you can pretend.

With a soft mewl of his name, you glide your pussy along his open tongue, lewd wet noises filling your ears with sinful thoughts. His eyes are glazed with lust, staring up at you to capture every breath you take to drink your every moan with senseless intent.

“Pull my hair—“ he whines against your thighs, his voice is a hoarse whisper that tickles your sensitive skin, “Pretend you’re my teacher— Call me a bad boy,” Nipping at your skin, Seungkwan stares expectedly into your eyes.

God forbid you ever felt anything but maternal love for any of your snotty students, but Seungkwan words go straight to your pussy like a slap to your face. And you’re crushing his head between your thighs with such strength it has left the perfect imprint of your legs on his cheeks.

“You are such a weirdo–” You reply, absolutely floored by his request and even more by how willing you are to comply with any of his wishes.

Seungkwan whimpers, biting at your skin. Every word that dances in malice travel through his burning body, eliciting goosebumps over every inch of skin.

“Stop being such a brat and eat my pussy,” You command. The power feels dizzying, dripping from your lips with an unfamiliar venom.

“Fuck–” He curses before diving back in.

His thumb finds your clit, toying with the sensitive nerve at a slow pace even as his tongue absolutely demolishes your hole. You whine, tightening your grip around the locks of his hair.

The vibrations coming from his soft moans are going straight into your core, travelling along your bloodstream, rushing to your brain with the addicting dopamine.

“You– You’ll be a good boy, huh?” You ask, unsure of how to phrase it, if it will please him, domination feels unfamiliar on your tongue, “Be a– Fuck! Be a good boy and make me cum…?”

He nods fervently against your pussy, nose tickling your clitoris with the perfect amount of pressure to make the knot in your belly tighten.

His name falls from your lips as you cum, keeling over with a strained moan, legs convulsing from sheer pleasure.

Seungkwan taps your thigh when he can’t breathe and you pry yourself off his face, stumbling over your numb legs. A string connects your slick to his lips and you almost moan at the very sight.

“Fuck– That was hot. You’re so fucking hot–” He smirks, pulling you flush to his chest, crashing his wet lips against yours and you can taste yourself on him.

And you taste of unrequited love.

His hands are on your body so caringly, caressing every inch of exposed skin and exposing more on his way. You part the kiss to urge him to remove the tee shirt he wears and he practically destroys your pretty button-up with how roughly he tears it apart.

You whine at the fact and he shushes you with soft promises of getting you something prettier.

Your chest feels so soft against his, heartbeats matching in ardent craving, longing for the next minutes you will spend in each other’s arms.

When your hands find his perfectly ironed slacks, you can feel the strained bulge and the very obvious wet spot that stains the dark navy fabric. Seungkwan groans, flinching away from your touch as much as his brain yells at him to chase your hand.

“Fuck– I need your pussy— I’m gonna fuckin’ die–” He groans, pulling your hands away before he can waste any of his cum on your hands. He can’t do it today, he needs to be inside, to claim and conquer, to feel part of something.

Biting your lips at his words, you lay back, spreading your legs willingly. God, Seungkwan almost cums at the sight.

You’re looking up at him with such a lewd glaze painting your doe eyes, your own slick coating your lips above smeared lipstick. Chest heaving, your tits heaving up and down with every bated breath.

He pries open his belt and lowers his trousers just enough to free his throbbing erection. You whine at the sight, it stands red and angry, oozing precum and so ready to plough you into tomorrow.

Seungkwan didn’t wear condoms with you very often, only when he was fresh off a relationship and didn’t have time to get tested before your meetings. The last time you’d met, he had just broken up with a rookie idol, a petite thing with big dreams and pretty eyes.

He’d fucked his frustration into your hips that night, not a word about how his feelings. The next morning, he was back to normal.

But tonight, he was going to fill you up; God, it had been too long since he felt your walls clamping around his cock with such enthusiasm.

You adjust yourself over the pillow and watch as Seungkwan rubs himself over your slit, collecting as much lubrication as possible. Hissing, you hurry him up. He slightly thumbs at your hole, stretching it.

“Just fucking do it already–!”

He slaps your clit, “Shut up.”

Crossing your arms, you look away in resentment. Seungkwan chuckles at the sight of your pouty lips.

“Stop sulking, yeah?” He leans forward, whispering against your lips, “I’ll fuck you nice and good once you’re ready,” His kisses are gentle against your swollen lips, collecting more of your cheap red lipstick that stains more than you’d wish.

Deciding you’re somewhat ready, but mostly giving in to the extreme horniness that burns through his bloodstream, Seungkwan slowly thrusts into your tight hole.

“H-Holy shit–” He chokes, leaning forward to bury his reddened face into your neck. “How are you so fucking tight? No matter how many times I fuck you–”

He bottoms out, kissing the tip of your cervix, filling up the hole that sits at the bottom of your heart with plain arousal.

Your brain oozes dopamine at the stretch, tearing you apart to scramble your insides and batter your heart, only to put you back together with a single soft smile.

“Fuckin’ Move–” You managed to gasp, wrapping your arms around his neck, bringing his chest flush to yours.

Seungkwan half-worries he might go too harsh, that you’re not ready by how tight you still are; But you’re thrusting your hips against his, mewling sweet, tempting pleas against his ear.

So he cedes to your wishes, hips pistoning into yours with relentless desire. Your pussy squelches lewdly around his cock, a ring of arousal pooling around the base. He groans at the sight.

And you’re squirming under him, his name dripping from your tongue in a harmonic prayer.

Between thrusts, he finds your lips with the intent to drink your every moan, every syllable of his name that leaves your lips in a breathy moan.

Hands tight on your hips, Seungkwan lifts your leg to wrap around his waist, allowing him more leverage to plough your pussy as he wishes, to ravage you in every way. Stake his claim in the most primal way possible.

The new angle allows him to caress your sensitive spot with every merciless shove of his dick into your hole. The sofa creaks under the weight of you, and you’re silently praying it doesn’t break because you will flee the country before you explain to the principal why the lounge couch is broken.

Tears leak from your glazed eyes, you bury your face into his hair, smelling the citric hair gel, the woody cologne he created in a collab with an indie brand a couple years back.

Seungkwan nips at your neck, biting at your skin, trying his damndest to hold back the groans that want to escape, the praise that boils over on his tongue at how well you take him, on how you were made for him. Words that feel heavy, that elicit tears from your eyes and make you clench around him too hard.

“Come on, come on–” He urges, hand reaching to rub at your clit. Knowing fully he won’t last long.

“Fuck– M’ close!” You whine, arching your back, handing yourself on a plater, pliant and willing.

When you come, you’re silent, pulling at his hair with breathy gasps. Your walls convulse around him, milking his cock for all he’s worth, coaxing his own orgasm.

Seungkwan comes undone in hot spurts, painting you white with his cum, collapsing against your chest with a faint whisper of your name.

Still inside, he wraps his arms around your waist, peppering soft kisses along your collarbone.

He is only loving in the aftermath when the room smells of sex.

You wake up not too long after, and Seungkwan snores softly on your chest, drooling over your sweaty skin. You feel anything but sexy, all clammy and gross. And he’s gone soft and you can feel the cum leaking over your thighs.

With a sigh, you grab a pillow from the floor, shoving it under his head so you can hopefully leave without waking the beast. Luckily, you’re out of his embrace.

Plucking your clothes from the floor, you realise only one of the buttons remains on your blouse. Cursing Seungkwan in your head, you wear it anyway, having nothing better. You pull the skirt down after wiping away the fluids from your skin.

Seungkwan groans, mouth dry and arms numb, he sits up.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” You ask, leaning over the fridge to grab a bottle of water.

“What time is it?” His voice is hoarse, it tickles your tummy with the tempting domesticity.

“Just past two. When’s your flight?”

“At six,” He huffs, leaning against his knees.

You offer him some water, which he gladly accepts.

The silence isn’t awkward, it’s a comfortable blanket of omission that hides in its thread the unresolved feelings that snowball over decades.

“Do you miss it?” You ask, eyes focused on the night scenery outside the window, not nearly courageous enough to stare at him.

“What?”

“Our school years.”

“No fucking way. They sucked,” He laughs.

You chuckle.

“Didn’t you have fun? We used to go over to Chan’s after school and make his life a living hell.”

Seungkwan laughs at the nostalgic memory.

Lee Chan was the brother of an upperclassman and you became friends by chance. He was absolutely obsessed with girl groups and you, Seungkwan, Seokmin and Soonyoung just loved to make fun of his taste.

“What is he doing these days? Man, he was so easy to mess with.”

“He left for Seoul, to become a trainee in high school.”

He nods.

“If… If it hadn’t been for Sohee, do you think you’d have enjoyed it?”

It’s almost a hopeful question, a melancholic plea for acknowledgement. In the underlines, there is a secret question, “Do you miss me?”

“…I don’t know, maybe.” He shrugs.

maybe.

That was enough for you.

When he gets into the uber with a soft wave, heading back into his glamorous lifestyle, you’re left to pick the pieces of your heart back up, glue them all together with a boring routine and mind-numbing deskwork until he can break them again.