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nordschleifes · 2 days

Text

while you're busy making other plans

➝ your secret with fernando is leaked to the world. and you deal with it in the most chaotic way possible

➝ word count: 4,4k

➝ warnings: coparenting, lies, press, andrea being a little shit and fernando dealing poorly with press

➝ author's note: part two of this one shot. hope you enjoy it.

The notification that appeared on your phone screen.

It displayed a thumbnail image of you standing with Fernando in the Aston Martin garage, while he ran his hand through Leon's hair. You had been talking about that day’s sessions, with your son detailing how impressed he had been with the mechanics' work in getting his car ready for each stage of qualifying.

However, the caption of the photo turned your stomach. “They know about Leon”, the message said.

That was what you feared most since the day your son was born. You had read enough articles on the pages of Spanish magazines to know that you didn't want that life for him. But, at the same time, you knew that all that effort would go down the drain one day, especially when Leon began to understand the real intention of the excuses and compromises you made up to prevent his identity from being revealed.

You just didn't expect this day to come so quickly.

The knock on the door made you wake up from your thoughts, jumping out of bed towards the entrance of the suite. When your eyes met Fernando's, you felt your throat tighten.

— Y/N — he murmured.

— Come in — you managed to say, opening the door.

The driver passed you silently, head down. You didn't need anything else to know that he had already seen the photos and that he wasn't happy with them.

— What now? — you asked softly, as he sat down on the bed.

— I don't know, Y/N — Fernando replied, running a hand through his hair — Where is...

— With Alberto, I asked him to take Leon to his room so we could talk.

The driver let out a sigh as you sat down next to him.

— I have no idea how that happened — he muttered.

— Well, it has always been a possibility, and you know it.

Fernando looked at you with a serious expression.

— The thing is, nobody knew who you were. Alberto was careful to request the credentials in the team's name and not mine, we arrived separately — he pointed out — Did Leon say anything to anyone?

— No, no — you replied, shaking your head — He stayed with me or Alberto the whole time, he didn't say anything much.

Silence took over the room for a few seconds.

— This was leaked — Fernando finally said — Someone leaked it to the press...

— Do you think Luis…

— No, not him. It wasn't anyone around me, I'm sure. Everyone knows that Leon's privacy is the most important thing to me. They wouldn't do that to me, Y/N...

— What guarantees you that they wouldn't do it for money or...

— Y/N, no one close to me would do that — the driver interrupted you, a note of irritation in his voice — Everyone knows that Leon is the most important person in my life and that he is my priority. They wouldn't be able to, I know that.

You had no way of opposing him in that sense. Everyone who knew Leon's real identity were people connected to Fernando for almost 20 years and who knew him well enough to know how careful he was with his son. However, your mind went to the people who were no longer around Fernando, and the realization hit you like a train.

— Andrea — you murmured, before looking at him — It could only have been her.

The driver pressed his lips into a thin line.

— Are you sure?

— She's the only one who could have leaked this.

— Y/N, we can't get ahead of ourselves.

— She knows we're here on the circuit, she saw when I arrived with Leon — you argued, despair rising in your chest.

— That doesn't mean she did it, Y/N — he countered. This made you jump to your feet, feeling a wave of anger rising up your neck.

— How so? She is the only one who is no longer in your inner circle who knows Leon and has contact with the press.

— Andrea wouldn't use Leon against me, Y/N, she knows he's the most important person in my life — Fernando replied, making you bring your hand to his face in disbelief. You couldn't believe he couldn't see what was clear in front of him.

— And that's precisely why she would do that! — you yelled — She wants to hit you where it hurts, Fernando! She wants you to be sad too, to suffer! Don't you understand that?!

Fernando remained silent, looking at you with a grim expression on his face.

— Now, our son's face is everywhere because your ex-girlfriend can't accept that you don't want anything to do with her! — You continued, anger dripping from his words.

— Y/N…

— What?!

— She was the one who broke up with me.

The revelation hit you like a punch in the stomach. If Andrea was the one who had broken up with Fernando, supposed revenge on her part wouldn't make any sense. If she didn't want to be with him, there would be no reason to reveal Leon's identity to the press.

You were back to square one.

— Do you want to know why? — he asked softly, as you sat down next to him again.

— Did she give a reason?

— She said that I had well-defined priorities and that she wasn't one of them.

— Priorities?

— The work, Leon — Fernando hesitated for a few seconds — You.

You felt a churning sensation in your stomach.

— Me? What do I have to do with it?

The driver sighed heavily.

— I always made it clear from the beginning that you and Leon were an essential part of my life — he explained — Andrea accepted it well, but when she realized that I wouldn't give up living with you two, that I wanted to have you around, I think something changed in her mind.

— So she left you and decided to get revenge on top of that? — you questioned.

— It doesn't matter now, Y/N. What matters is that everyone knows about Leon and that we need to do something.

You clenched your jaw, deep in thought. It didn't matter who leaked the story, but rather what you would do to protect Leon from the approaching media storm.

— You can say you don’t know us…

— It’s not possible, there are photos of us on other occasions, with my parents, with Alberto…

— You can say he's Alberto's — you murmured, looking at your hands — We can pretend we're a couple, I believe he won't mind that, especially in these circumstances...

— No, definitely not — Fernando said, his voice firm — You will not compromise because of an error in judgment I made.

— So, you're just going to deny everything?

— Do I have another choice, Y/N?

— They won't buy this story...

— It's my word against that of an anonymous source, Y/N — the driver interrupted you — I can say that you are a friend of mine and that I have great affection for you and your family. That's simple.

You were thinking about the countless questions that could arise from that answer when the door to the suite opened.

— Papá! — Leon exclaimed, turning around the bed to go to Fernando and hug him.

— Hola, mijo — he said, forcing a smile on the boy — How are you?

— Good — the boy replied, as he sat on his lap — I was playing Mario Kart with Galle.

When you looked back, you found Fernando's manager and friend with a small smile on his face as he watched Leon with his father. However, as soon as his eyes met your, you could see the worry that permeated them.

— I bet you beat him, didn't you? — the driver asked.

— Yes, I won — Leon said, smiling — Galle slipped a lot on the banana peels!

— If someone hadn't thrown the peels at me, I would have arrived first — he countered, making the boy laugh — I'm going to have my revenge, there's no point in laughing, okay?

— I want to see that, huh? — Fernando said, while his son continued to provoke Alberto, talking about how he couldn't stop bumping at his opponents.

However, the relaxed air of the conversation was haunted by the dark cloud of reality. The looks you exchanged with the two men contained silent messages, requests for normality to be maintained, for everything to remain the same, for Leon's sake. And considering the subtle nods and goodnight hugs they gave the boy, you were sure that the three of you were completely committed to this mission.

The next day featured all the chaos that kept you awake for most of the night. With a cap firmly placed on Leon's head and the instruction to keep his head down, you entered the paddock holding his hand firmly. The questions mixed with the sound of camera clicks, focused on the reactions of the two of you.

— Leon, Leon, here! — one shouted.

— Where did you meet Fernando, Y/N? — another asked.

— Y/N, can you answer a question for us? — a third asked, as you climbed the stairs of the Aston Martin motorhome without saying a word. However, your expectation of going unnoticed there was shattered when you noticed the curious looks of the employees and guests who were there, the whispers multiplying.

You were still frozen in the same spot when you felt someone pull your hand.

— Mamá, can we go upstairs? — Leon asked softly, a shy expression on his face — I want to see papá.

— Yes, my love, let's go.

Trying to ignore the way you were being observed, you headed up the stairs towards Fernando's room, praying that there was no one else in the hallways of the motorhome. When you opened the door, however, you found Fernando accompanied by Alberto and Fabri, the three of them talking about something that was on Alberto's cell phone screen. Upon noticing their serious expressions, you made to close the door, but Leon reacted faster than you.

— Papá! — the boy exclaimed, entering the room without any ceremony, running into his father's arms — Happy birthday!

Fernando greeted him with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, seeming not to mind the interruption. Closing the door, you could feel the tension building up in your neck, making your movements somewhat painful. However, this was not the time to let that show, not when Leon was so happy.

— Thank you so much, my love. You don't know how happy having you here makes me.

— Mamá and I have a gift for you! — he said, looking at you with an expectation that made you give a small smile.

— A gift? — the driver followed his son's gaze, seeming interested — You know you don't need to give me anything, right?

— Leon insisted — you replied, as you opened your bag and took out a small box decorated with a fancy gold ribbon bow from inside. Then, taking a step forward, you handed it to Fernando — Happy birthday.

After a few seconds of hesitation, he picked up the box and examined it from the outside, the gold Richard Mille logo catching his attention. Giving his son a smile, the pilot undid the bow and opened the box, his eyes widening when he saw what was there.

— That…

— It's a new watch! — Leon exclaimed — Mamá and I made it for you!

Fernando looked at the gift with surprise, seeming not to believe what he had in his hands.

— You made this? — he asked, as he took the accessory out of the box to look at it.

— Yes! — the son responded immediately — Tell him, mamá!

— Richard said that you talked about samurai culture and that you were thinking about creating a model inspired by that a few years ago — you explained — At the end of last year, he called me to continue the project and this is the first functional prototype, what we call 000.

— I chose the colors! — Leon added, making you smile.

After a few seconds contemplating the details of the watch, Fernando hugged Leon and kissed the boy on the cheek again, murmuring something in Spanish to him. Then it was your turn to get a tight hug from him.

— Thank you for that.

— You know it's the least we can do for you, considering everything you've already done for us.

— It was my obligation, Y/N…

— And this is my way — you stopped, while Leon leaned against one of his father's legs, carefully observing the conversation between the two of you — Our way of showing how much we appreciate you for this.

The driver's smile was wide, framed by the same dimples that Leon had in his cheeks and that, seven years ago, had made your heart beat faster. However, you didn't have time to savor the feeling that took over your chest before he said that he needed to get ready for the meeting with the engineers before qualifying for the Sprint race.

With a new hug from Leon and a promise that you would see each other later, you left Fernando's room and went to the area reserved for team guests, where Melina welcomed the two of you with a wide smile. After suggesting the boy a plate of waffles and promising you that there would be no chocolate sauce like the day before, you stayed there, observing the hospitality and paddock movement, waiting for the time of the activities on the track.

Unfortunately, it had not been Fernando's day. After a difficult and rain-delayed qualifying, the Sprint was even more frustrating. Sitting in front of the television, you shook your foot insistently while Leon was standing, biting his nails even after you told him not to.

Then, exactly what you had been afraid of played out in front of you.

— Alonso! Fernando Alonso! — the narrator exclaimed, making your son's eyes widen — Off the track, on the gravel and outside the Sprint, bringing the Safety Car back to the track here in Spa-Francorchamps.

Repeating the image brought you a bit of relief, as the driver had not, in fact, hit the barrier, but had simply spinned onto the wet track and headed towards the escape zone. However, this didn't make Leon calmer, on the contrary.

— Mamá — he asked softly — Is papá okay?

Looking back at the screen in front of you, the image of Fernando walking alongside the marshalls made you give Leon a smile.

— Yes, he's fine, my love.

— Will he be able to have dinner with us today? — he asked, his voice full of hope.

— Yes, I'm sure. Now, let's continue watching the race and then go down to get a snack, what do you think?

With a vigorous nod, Leon sat down next to you, eyes focused on the action unfolding on the track. He celebrated the fight between Sergio Perez and Lewis Hamilton, as well as the overtaking of Carlos Sainz, saying he was good “like papá”. After the checkered flag and the podium ceremony, you invited your son to come with you downstairs.

Upon arriving at the common room of the hospitality, which was slightly empty, you were talking to one of the employees when you felt Leon pull your hand, trying to get your attention.

— Mamá, look over there — he said softly, pointing to one of the screens. In it, Fernando was in front of the microphone, a serious expression on his face. Giving him a small smile, you turned your attention to the employee, who had questioned you about Leon's juice.

After confirming the order and having your pass scanned, you looked again at your son, who was still staring at the television with a serious expression, as if he was paying attention to what Fernando was saying in Spanish. However, you only discovered what had happened later, when you were back at the hotel.

— Now, you go to the shower and I'll sort your clothes so we can go to dinner with your papá — you said, as you dropped your cell phone on the bed. However, when you turned around, you noticed that Leon was hesitant, his eyes on his hands — Is there a problem?

— Mamá, is papá my real papá?

You blinked, a little shocked by that question.

— Why are you asking?

— They asked papá if he had a son on television — the boy said, his voice full of sadness — And he said no.

Guilt made your heart feel heavy in your chest. You definitely didn't expect Leon to see any of Fernando’s interviews, especially one in which he had been mentioned. Pursing your lips, you tried to reorganize your thoughts, looking for the best answer for him, one that said what he needed to know at that moment and that's all.

However, you didn't even say a word.

— Is it true, mamá?

— My love, please — you murmured, sitting on the bed with wobbly legs, your heart racing inside your chest.

— Papá isn’t my papá? — he continued asking, his brown eyes filled with something you had never seen in him before.

Anger.

— Leon, you don’t know what you’re talking about…

— I do! — the boy exclaimed — I saw papá saying that he didn't have any children, that that was nonsense. He doesn't have a son, I'm not his son!

— Can you hear me, Leon? — your voice rising.

— No! — he shouted — You lied to me! Everyone lied to me!

— It's not like that, let me explain — you tried to say, while the boy walked with heavy steps to the bathroom.

— Lies, all lies! — Leon shouted, before entering the bathroom and closing the door violently.

Something about that scene reminded you of your own adolescence. You felt like you were watching yourself argue heatedly with your parents and, in an attempt to escape that, you hid inside your room, but not before slamming the door hard, taking out all your anger on her.

However, Leon was not a teenager, but just a boy.

He was your little boy.

You didn't even notice when the first tear ran down his face, bitter and completely lost. At that moment, with Leon thinking that his life had been a real lie, you had no idea what to do. Forcibly entering the bathroom to try to explain things felt wrong, as did shouting the truth at the wood.

Then, a knock on the door made something light up in his mind.

Running to the door, you clumsily opened it, praying that it was whoever you needed that was there by your side.

— Good evening — Fernando greeted you, his smile dying when he saw your red eyes and wet cheeks — What happened, Y/N?

— It's Leon — you stammered, your eyes filling with tears.

He walked past you with heavy steps, his expression serious.

— Where is he? What happened to my son?

You looked at him sadly.

— Leon thinks you’re not his father — you just said, your voice breaking.

The driver looked shocked by that, as if he couldn't believe what you had said.

— What?

— He saw the interview after the Sprint and came to this conclusion. I don't know how or why, but he's convinced we lied to him.

Fernando passed a hand over his face, dismayed.

— I didn’t say anything much…

— It was enough for him — you replied harshly, even by your standards. However, he didn't seem to mind, going to the bathroom door and knocking gently.

— Mijo? It's papá, please open.

— No! — Leon shouted.

— Please, my love, let papá explain to you…

— I don't want to hear you!

He let out a heavy sigh, resting his forehead against the wood.

His son didn't want to talk to him, or anyone.

Asking you to inform him of any developments, you watched Fernando exit the suite you were sharing with Leon in silence, his shoulders slumped as if he was carrying something extremely heavy on his back. Probably guilt for having said what shouldn't have been said, even though the intention was the best possible.

The silence after the bedroom door closed seemed to last for ages. Lying in bed, you stared at the ceiling in silence. The tears had already stopped flowing some time ago when you heard the bathroom handle turn and the door open, revealing Leon. Sitting down on the mattress, you saw that the boy's eyes were red and his nose was still running, which indicated that he had been crying.

Silently, he sat near your legs, head down.

— Leon — you murmured, hesitantly.

— I want to leave — the boy said, his voice surprisingly firm.

— But, we have the race tomorrow, papá said...

— I don't want to watch the race anymore — Leon interrupted you, looking at you — I want to go home, mamá.

The news that his son wanted to leave Spa as soon as possible, without even watching the race, hit Fernando like a bombshell. He even asked you to try to convince him to stay until morning, so the two of you could talk better, but Leon was impassive.

And, as the lights came on on the track, the two of you were already in the air, heading home in absolute silence.

The following months followed in the same way. As much as you and Fernando hoped that Leon would give in and talk to his father, he remained impassive. During the summer break, there were many times that the driver went to your house to see him, without any success. The answer was always the same.

— He's not my father.

The only person he still allowed himself to see was Alberto, who was trying to break the barriers imposed by the boy. However, after an afternoon of walking with him, Galle looked at you with a worried expression, a strong contrast to the smile with which he had said goodbye to his godson.

— Did something happen? Is it about Fernando?

— Yeah — he said, passing a hand over his face — I didn't say anything, just to make it clear, it was Leon who asked about Fer and...

— What he said?

— He asked how Fer was doing, with those words. I replied that he was fine, but very sad that he wasn't talking to him, that he was missing him.

— Did Leon say anything about that?

— Just that he doesn't understand the fact that he's missing him because he's nothing to Fernando, he has no reason to care about that — Alberto replied, punctuating with a heavy sigh — Look, Y/N, I really don't know if I don't It's time to sit down with him and explain this misunderstanding...

— You think I didn't try? — you returned, crossing your arms.

— I imagine there is, but maybe you call Fer and the three of you sit down and talk seriously...

— Leon doesn’t want to talk…

— He can't just ignore his own father forever, Y/N — Alberto interrupted you, gesturing with one of his hands — You'll have to come up with some idea to help him, otherwise, Fer will go crazy.

You spent the next few days with that in your head, your mind searching for the best way to show Leon that Fernando was his father and that, above all, he loved him. Among his ideas was the possibility of asking the driver's parents to intervene or simply taking him to a psychologist and letting her lead the conversation.

Until an idea came to your mind.

The easy part was convincing Fernando to do that. Of course, it wasn't simple, considering all the implications it would have on your lives, especially when it came to your privacy. However, the idea of being rejected for the rest of his life by his son made the driver give in.

The real challenge was convincing Leon to sit next to you to watch the television, which was already tuned to the channel he would appear on. The boy resisted bravely, stating that he didn't want to see Fernando and that he didn't like Formula 1 anymore. However, somehow, the image of his father on television made him stop, his eyes attentive.

— We're here with Fernando Alonso, Aston Martin driver, how are you?

— Everything's great — he replied with a smile.

— McLaren will be a challenge for you here in Abu Dhabi, right?

— Yes, totally. In the last two races, we gained more points than them, but we need a small miracle to overcome them — the driver explained — We are separated by 11 points, but we will try. Our main motivation is the constructors' championship.

— Now, with this season over, what are your plans?

— Well, the main thing is to rest, especially after so many trips. After the race, I go home to spend some time with Leon.

The mention to his son made the reporter's eyes widen.

— Leon, you mean…

— My son, yes. I did my best to avoid speculation and protect his and his mother's privacy, but it doesn't do much good right now and, if I can be honest, I was tired of not being able to tell him how amazing he is and how much I love him.

— I assume he likes speed — the man asked, still looking disconcerted.

— He loves it, understands everything and can’t wait to start driving. But he also loves drawing and plays football very well, so we'll have a lot to do during this vacation.

After he greeted the reporter one last time and left the camera, you looked at Leon, who was staring at the television in silence.

— Are you fine, my love? — you asked.

— Papá talked about me — he stammered, looking at you.

— Yes, he did, did you see?

— He said he loves me…

— Papá always loved you, Leon. From the beginning, when you were still in mamá's belly. He loves you very much and nothing will change that.

The boy smiled at you for the first time in a long time.

— Can we call him, mamá?

— Do you want to talk to papá?

— Yes, I do.

You felt tears as you searched for Fernando's contact details on your cell phone. Tapping the video call icon, the driver's image appeared almost immediately on your screen, his expression indicating the anxiety he felt.

— So, Y/N, did it work? — he asked.

Turning the phone to Leon, the boy's smile grew even wider.

— Hi, papá…

— Hi, mijo — you heard Fernando ask with a choked voice — Did you see papá on television?

— I did.

— Did you see I talked about you? — he questioned, with Leon nodding positively in response — Do you understand now that papá loves you?

A few seconds of silence followed, tension building in your shoulders.

Then, another positive wave from the boy made you smile, tears streaming down your face.

— I love you so much, mijo. You are the most precious thing I have in my life and I would never do anything if it wasn't for your happiness and your safety.

— I love you too, papá.

#fa #fernando alonso fanfic #fernando alonso fic #nordswrites #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula 1 x you #fernando alonso x you #formula one x you #fernando alonso x y/n #formula one x y/n #f1 x y/n #formula 1 x y/n

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zchnlswrld · 2 days

Text

LOVING YOU

MASTERLIST | WC: 8.1K (EXACTLY) | RELEASE DATE: 7TH MAY 2024

NON-IDOL!WOOYOUNG X FEM!READER (X NON-IDOL!SAN)

Synopsis: Loving Jung Wooyoung wasn’t worth it. Loving him wasn’t worth a god damn bone in your body. Yet here you are. Loving Jung Wooyoung made you hurt. It was a pain you were willing to endure for so long.

Warning/s: Angst. Hurt to comfort. Some fluff. Mentions of food and alcohol.

Rina’s notes: This is probably my favourite thing I’ve written kind of gagged! For texts white is someone else and blue is you! Sumin and Ningning what are you doing here?? There may be some spelling and grammar mistakes, I just haven’t had time to clean it up! Not too proud of the ending as I don’t really know how to end stuff sorry!!!!!

Tags: @newworldnet

Loving Jung Wooyoung is like watching your heart getting ripped out and doing nothing to stop it. It’ll happen again so why bother. Your heart aches as he smiles as Sumin knowing full well she’d never love him as much as you do. But what you do know is that she makes him happy and that’s all you can ask for at this point.

The sounds in the cafe had gradually faded out as you watched the pair lovingly gaze into each other’s eyes. They were both so content with being in each other’s presence you’re sure they’d forgotten you were even there with them. Neither of them had spoke to you nor looked in your direction for a while, leaving you to trace your finger in the grooves of your mug.

Your eyes drifted from the couple to the chalkboard above the counter, after reading it you look around the room. You do everything but look at the couple.

“So what about you?” Sumin smiles at you, breaking you out of your daze.

You return the smile, slightly lost, and reply. “What about me?”

“What’s your favourite thing to do? It’d be nice to know you more, seeing as you’re his best friend and all.” It’s always that last line that gets you but she says it so politely you aren’t sure if it was supposed to come off as condescending.

“Oh.” You think for a moment. “I don’t do much. I stay inside.” You give her an awkward smile, looking over at Wooyoung to say something.

He puts his hand on your shoulder and nods. “That’s something though, kiddo.”

Before you can get another word in he lets go of you and continues talking to Sumin about whatever they were before. Slowly you reach into the bag on your lap and pull out your phone. You see San’s name on the screen along with a text message and open it discreetly.

Is everything going alright?

just call pls

i wanna go

Read 13:17

You make an effort to turn your phone off of silent and after a few moments it rings loudly, cutting off the conversation happening next to you. “It’s San.” You place the phone on ear closest to Wooyoung and San says something about needing your help but you don’t really register it. You simply pick up your bag, pull out your wallet, place some money next to your cold drink, wave to the pair and leave. You can hear them both say goodbye but you shut the door just as quickly as you open it.

After leaving you turn the corner and see the pair through the window, they go back to talking as usual. Wooyoung laughing at something Sumin says and you can almost hear his hearty laugh as if you were still in there.

San hears your irregular breaths and his heart breaks for you. “Do you want me to pick you up?”

“He’s so happy.” You let out a shaky sigh.

“I’ll come and get you.” Keys jingle on the other end of the line and you can hear Byeol meow at San for leaving.

“They’re so happy, together.” You study the smile on Wooyoung’s face. He doesn’t cover his mouth with his hand and instead reaches for hers. His smile reaches his eyes, as does hers.

“Wait at Aurora, it’s Hongjoong’s shift.” You nod, although he can’t see it he knows.

Your phone slowly slips back into your bag, you’re not sure if you put the phone down or if San has but you register that it’s no longer in your hand. You finally tear your eyes away from the pair and drag your feet two blocks to Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s store.

It’s a silent walk.

There are no cars on the road. There are no people in the street. There are no birds chirping.

You’re left with your thoughts. Dangerous, really.

This is the first time he’s been so enthusiastic about having you meet someone, he pushed so hard for it and how could you say no to that face. The face you’ve loved so dearly since 8th grade.

She is the first girlfriend of his that had smiled at you and spoke to you and asked about you, something that gains Wooyoung’s stamp of approval. She offered to pay for your drink and even gave you a book you’d been meaning to read that she had on hand. She didn’t judge you for being a homebody nor did she pass comment on it.

Sumin was lovely. That’s what you hated more than anything.

Hongjoong had clearly been warned about your arrival because by the time you arrive there’s a hot chocolate on your usual booth and a small post it note next to it. Your heart clenches at Hongjoong’s gesture, not because it hurts you but because you’d missed being there.

The place was empty, his lunch rush had ended as all the sweet treats on display were gone and Yeosang was wiping tables.

You go straight to the booth quietly, getting a small smile from the man behind the counter as you walk past him. Placing your bag next to you, you pick up the note.

‘It’s on me.’

Simple and short but enough to remind you that’s exactly what Sumin said that made Wooyoung kiss her on the cheek while wrapping his arm around her while you were in line together. Of course Wooyoung was affectionate, he always has been but not like that in a long time. He’d hug and hold hands and give San or Yeosang the occasional kiss on the cheek but that’s where it ended.

You keep staring at the note before wordlessly folding it and putting it at the edge of the table.

“Do you think he doesn’t know?” You’re not sure who you’re speaking to, yourself, Hongjoong or Yeosang.

“Honestly?” Yeosang responds, his voice telling you he’s close. You nod and he sighs. “I don’t think he does.” Looking over at Yeosang he comes and sits opposite you. “I think he’s so wrapped up in his own world he’s not looking right in front of him.”

He watches as you take a sip of the warm drink. It provides no comfort to you as it usually would. You feel empty. Just as you place the drink down you hear San enter.

There’s nothing but pity in his eyes.

The cycle continues and he’s not sure how much longer he can let it go on.

Loving Jung Wooyoung is like being at the beach on a sunny day. It’s warm for a moment before it gets too hot and you get burnt. You’d endured it for so many visits so what’s one more, after all you’ll be out of it soon. It’s hot in the house, there are too many bodies and not one window open. Wooyoung had told you it was a nice gathering between friends and not a full blown party, hence the long sleeve shirt and jeans. He lied to you but at least the rest of the group is here.

“I was hoping to see you again! Our meeting was cut short last time!” Sumin rests her elbow on your shoulder and shouts over the music. She offers you some of her drink but you have your hand to decline it. “You don’t drink?” You shake your head, causing her to laugh. “That’s a shame! We could have been drunk buddies! Wooyoung said you were once!”

Ah. Those times. The reason you stopped drinking. “Not anymore! But thank you for the offer!” She smiles and leaves you alone, going somewhere to the sofa’s to mingle some more.

The music feels like it’s getting louder and you begin playing with your sleeves, scratching up your hand as you do. It begins to hurt but you ignore it the best you can and focus on finding someone you know. Your best bet is Seonghwa being in the kitchen, making sure people drink safely and responsibly so you go there.

It takes some pushing and small excuse me’s that go ignored to get there but in the end you do. He’s keeping it as clean as he can while staying out of everyone’s way, it’s in his nature after all. He silently gives you a comforting smile as you walk his way.

“I didn’t think you come.” He speaks into your ear.

He leans down to your heightso you can reply in the same manner. “I thought it was just us. That’s what he told me.” Seonghwa pulls back, just as confused as you were when you arrived. You pull him back in to defend Wooyoung but he doesn’t give you the chance, instead he speaks to you.

“Friends don’t do that, you know that.” He shakes his head and cleans some cups on the side.

You reply. “It’s just how he is!” But you’re not sure he hears you.

As he busy’s himself you feel your phone vibrating in your pocket. With the amount of times it goes off you could mistake it for a call, but it’s not. It’s Wooyoung.

hey

heyyyyyyy

hey hey hey

are you here

sumin asked if you’re here

you’re bffs now she says

WEREH SO BFFS NWU

that was sumin

d'you make it or not

can it woo

you lied

now where are you?

He leaves you on read and you sigh. Just as you go to put your phone back he pipes up again.

you know i didn’t mean to

welllllll

bathroom

su thinks she’ll be sick

Read 22:13

This time you successfully put your phone away and bid Seonghwa goodbye, although you aren't sure he can hear you considering the volume of the music and the constant chatter. You push through the group of people in the doorway as politely as you can and make a beeline for the stairs.

The crowding on the stairs didn't slow you down, you came to see Wooyoung but now that Sumin is (supposedly) being sick you want to make sure she's alright.

The bathroom door is wide open, a couple in there all over each other, so you knock on his bedroom door just a couple meters away, assuming she's in the suite. You continuously knock without receiving a response. It takes you a couple minutes to decide what to do. You could go downstairs and see someone you know or you could go home or you could go and see Wooyoung like you said you would. How could you ever knowingly let him down?

You shout that you're coming in before opening the door and the sight you're met with makes you freeze. Much like the couple in the bathroom they're all over each other. Lips and hands constantly moving to cover more area. Each movement more desperate than the last as they pull each other closer. You can't watch any longer and slam the door shut behind you as you leave. You don't know if either of them spot you and you don't want to stay long enough to find out.

You shoot down the stairs just as quick as you went up them. Seonghwa watches you from the kitchen doorway and tries stop you however his efforts are in vain when you rip your wrist out of his grip without slowing your pace. He sees you go through the front door and sighs as he catches a glimpse of Wooyoung coming down the stairs.

"Is she here?!" He shouts over the music as best he can, San, Seonghwa and Yunho are all in his line of sight but they all look at him before going back to what they were doing. He does some extra searching around the first level of his house but his efforts come up short. You aren't with any of their mutual friends or your usual spots.

Maybe he was imagining things. Maybe you left after you realised it wasn't a meet up. Maybe you left when he wasn't there when you got here. Maybe you never came at all. Maybe you came upstairs and opened the door and saw him and Sumin before promptly leaving because who would want to walk in on their best friend and their partner making out? He surely wouldn't want to walk in on you doing that.

Wooyoung opens the front door in order to let some air in as he tries to figure out what's going on. After all that over thinking he's quite confused when he sees you sitting on the curb at the end of his house with Yeosang at your side.

He considers walking over to the two of you but you lean your head against Yeosang’s shoulder and he decides to stay back. He watched from afar as you speak to each other, he can’t make any of it out and he assumes by the closeness that he should leave it alone.

“I just went in. I knocked by no one answered. I upset myself in theory.” You laugh quietly.

He shakes his head. “Not really. You thought she was being sick. Wooyoung doesn’t like sick so you did what you thought was right.”

“It’s his room and I just walked.” You look down and shuffle your feet uncomfortably, thinking back to the scene.

“You usually do, it’s nothing new.” He peers over his shoulder as best as he can and he’s sure he sees Wooyoung watching you from the corner of his eye. Wooyoung notices and pushes the door shut slightly to cover himself.

“I just want to go home now.” You stand up and Yeosang follows suit.

He reaches out for you but you start walking away. “Let’s get something to eat. You’ll just sit and wallow in self pity at home.”

“It’s better than seeing them.” You wipe your eyes, a movement both boys watching you catch up on. Before Wooyoung can even consider comforting you his friend jogs slightly to catch up to you.

He goes back inside and shuts the door behind him. Both you and Yeosang hear the door shut and you look at him as he sighs. He reaches out to wipe your tears and pulls your eyes away from the door.

“What do you want to eat, hm?”

Loving Jung Wooyoung is like watching snow fall and land on wet pavement. The snow won’t settle, so why try. It's so pretty but at what cost? Wooyoung looks at Sumin with so much love, it's the same way you look at him San says. But if it was why can everybody but him see it?

"Did you end up coming over last week?" Sumin diverts the conversation towards you, getting too shy to talk as Wooyoung stares at her.

You wave your hand dismissively and swallow your drink. Her question makes Wooyoung look at you and you softly punch his shoulder as he sits next to you. “Only for a couple minutes because someone said it was a gathering between friends, not a party with everyone he knows.” He laughs and so do you to hide how annoyed you really are, this makes San stare at you from across the table but you slightly shake your head at him.

“Oh!” Sumin exclaims. “Wooyoung said you guys used to party all the time. Are they not your scene?”

“They never really have been, I only went because I was 18 and he wanted me out my dorm room.” You sigh.

“Books were your life back then, one of us had to do it.” San pipes up, sipping his coffee, amused. The other three laugh as you jokingly frown at San.

Silence falls over the table as all of you dig into the cakes in front of you and drink your lukewarm beverages. You can see San’s eyes flick from you to the couple as they feed each other, you try to pay no mind to it but he watches your shoulders slump the tiniest bit more and he can’t help but feel pity for you.

It’s past the lunch rush for Aurora hence the group gathering but you can’t help but feel like an outsider to the other three. Wooyoung and Sumin being in love and San not having to battle the same feelings as you makes it easy for him to speak. But every movement you make has you second guessing yourself. For comfort you end up watching Wooyoung, something you’ve done for a long time that you aren’t quite sure you can give up.

He’s so pretty and lovely and caring and kind and the thought of all that makes you want to fall for him all over again. He’s so happy to watch Sumin talk to San even though he’s the biggest chatterbox at the table, he’s so content that they’re getting along. His eyes tell you everything you need to know about how he feels and as comforting as they are how easily you can read them hurts. Because it’s not for you.

Sumin smiles at you and you shoot her one back. She doesn’t seem hurt or jealous or angry that you’re staring at her boyfriend, there’s an unreadable emotion in her eye that you can’t pinpoint but you know it’s not negative. San spots your interaction and sees you ever so slightly cringe and curl into yourself.

He takes this as a sign to go, as much as he knows you want to stay for Wooyoung (just for it to be like old times once more) he can’t bare the sight of you working yourself up and feeling like you make people uncomfortable. He’s seen it all before but this time it seems to be worse. Maybe it’s because he can see how in love Wooyoung is, how both of you know Sumin is the one for him and this is it, how you wished to be loved the way you love him. San stands up with a smile “I’ll pay for this one, Wooyoung you’re paying for the next.”

“You’re going?” Wooyoung goes to take his wallet to pay his and Simon’s portion but his friend dismisses just as fast.

“Mhm, we have to take Byeol to the vet. You know my sister doesn’t like doing it and I don’t like going alone.” He gestures for you to get up, which you do.

Wooyoung reaches out for your hand as you step out the booth and you feel him just graze your wrist, his movements causing you to move back. His touch burns, it hurts and you’re not sure why. All you know is that you can’t see him right now because everything is starting to hurt.

You can see Sumin from the corner of your eye as the gears begin turning in her head and she connects dots you wished she couldn’t. She’d caught you.

Quickly, you wave bye to the couple and Seonghwa behind the counter as he finishes up his shift and leave San to pay. Wooyoung considers going after you but Sumin shakes her head and he doesn’t. “Girl to girl, don’t worry.” Is enough for him to leave it alone. You’d never spoke to him about ‘girl problems’ before so if she knew, that was already more than him.

San comes outside and sees you sat on the curb with your hand on your chest. He can’t tell if you’re trying to slow your heartbeat or steady your breathing but he leaves you to it until you’re ready to talk.

“I’m a terrible person, San.” You look over your shoulder at him. “I like a guy with a girlfriend and she knows but that’s barely changed anything.”

“You don’t just like him, you’ve loved him since we were kids. No partner has ever changed that for you. You aren’t a terrible person, not when you liked him first.” He tries to reason. He reaches out to you and helps you stand up.

The pair of you walk to his car in complete silence. There’s nothing else that can be said because he’s right.

The car isn’t too far, just down the road, but it gives you time to think about your next steps. You could either come clean and move on, never mention it again or apologise to Sumin. Coming clean could ruin everything though and suffering in silence for too long can ruin a person but you have nothing to apologise for. You’re stuck in an endless loop of hurt.

As you slip into the passenger seat you can feel the dreaded vibration of your phone in your pocket. You don’t open the message, instead watch it come in on your lock screen.

I don’t blame you. You’ve known him for much longer and he cares about you. You haven’t done anything to come in between us so I can’t fault you. I won’t say anything if you don’t feel comfortable with it.

“Sumin knows.” You read the message out to San before turning your phone off in your lap.

“And how does that make you feel?” He tries to be empathetic as he starts the car.

“Pathetic.” Your phone lights up one more time but you flip it over after reading the next message.

Just don’t hurt yourself more than you have. A boy isn’t worth that much.

Loving Jung Wooyoung is like watching the cherry blossoms flower and then counting the petals as they fall. The petals, although beautiful, are eventually forgotten about. You sit at the kitchen island, staring at the clock above the oven. 10:23pm.

Sighing you open your text thread with Wooyoung once again and check if he’s read any.

Today 11:14

what’s the plan then dude

it’s the 17th

Today 14:22

you missed the last one

you said we’d watch two movies to make up for it

doctor strange isn’t gonna watch itself??

Today 17:36

what are we doing????

wooooooyuuuuuuu

is it off??

Today 19:12

san came instead

thanks for letting me know you weren’t coming

Delivered

Just as you go to turn it off and head to bed you watch the ‘Delivered’ switch to ‘Read 10:24’ and your heart drops but you’re not sure why.

When it comes to Wooyoung you’re not sure about a lot of things but there’s not much you can do about it. You’re so used to feeling that way that, to you, at the end of the day it is what it is. It’s how you feel and you can’t help that, you just have to learn how to navigate it.

Your phone rings and you see his caller ID. Hesitantly you pick up, Lord knows what he’s going to say but you hope it’s along the lines of sorry.

“What’s with you and San recently?” He exhales.

You laugh quietly, he’s the pathetic one now. “Not even a hello?”

“I don’t show up so you replace me with San yet again?” You can hear shuffles on the other end of the line.

“Was I supposed to stay by myself on the day we have reserved for each ot- wait, you didn’t show up you’re right!” After turning the lights out and shutting off any electrics you need to, you go to your bedroom and put your phone on charge. “Hold on, you’re on speaker.”

“We were supposed to watch Doctor Strange together!” He argues.

You laugh at him, amused once again. “Wooyoung you didn’t show up and didn’t even tell me, how was I supposed to know you wanted to watch it with me when you didn’t have the decency to text me?”

“I forgot! I went out with Sumin and my time was taken up!”

“So why are you mad at me!”

The line goes quiet and you’re sure he’s put the phone down. After hearing some more shuffling from him that theory doesn’t stand. Either way he still doesn’t say anything.

“I don’t know actually.”

“Meeting on the 17th is our thing and you forgot, we’ve done it every month since we were 15 Woo. You forgot, it was something you wanted to do and now you’re mad at me because I didn’t want to be alone.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Are you?”

He falls quiet again and this time you put the phone down. You’re already hurting after being ditched but being ditched for Sumin (even though they’re together) on your day made it still just that tiny bit more.

You watch his caller ID show up on your phone again but you turn it off and flip it over on your nightstand. Before you lay in bed you flip down the picture of you and Wooyoung at your graduation that sat next to it.

He’d never forgotten before, he used to make a point that it was your thing not only to his partners but your own friendship group and yet he’s the one forgetting. He’s the one who’d got your hopes up only to leave you hanging.

You lay awake that night, overthinking. Staring at the ceiling of glow in the dark stars you and Wooyoung put up one night after watching The Blair Witch. Regardless of how you feel about him a friend doesn’t do this to a friend. He didn’t forget to go bowling with Mingi and Yunho. He didn’t forget to go to the lakes with Jongho. He had meetings with Sumin those days too. Were you just that forgettable?

Quickly you text your best friend, feelingly conflicted after putting the phone down and being shouted at for something that was entirely his fault.

it’s our thing

you left me and that’s on you

Delivered

You keep your phone open on the message screen expecting Wooyoung to be awake considering you know he has the next (or current, depending on how you see it) day off however nothing comes.

Instead you watch the ‘Delivered’ switch to ‘Read 04:25’ with no response.

Loving Jung Wooyoung is like flipping through an old photobook as you fantasise about what could have been. It had been a while since the whole group were together (in a calm setting) but it had been a long time coming seeing how busy you had all been.

You can’t stay mad at Wooyoung for long, it’s been a week and you’re currently sat next to him on Ningning’s couch as she pulls out your yearbook. “Here he is,” she covers Wooyoung’s picture and shows it to Sumin who’s also sat next to him “we did let him walk around like this. I can only apologise.” She takes her hand off the picture and she immediately laughs.

“This is you?!” She points at her boyfriend only for him to look down and laugh. The rest of you laugh as well and she scoffs in amusement. Her eyes scan over the rest of the page. “You were all in the same class, that sounds like trouble.” She mutters jokingly.

“If you were looking for trouble it was these two.” Seonghwa point to you and Wooyoung. “Team Rocket over there.” He rolls his eyes, thinking of the many times he or Hongjoong had to free you from detention.

You lean back and pout. “It wasn’t even me, it was all him and I was taken in by association!”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have associated with me then!” He fires back just as fast.

“Sometimes I wish I didn’t!” Both of you roll your eyes at the same time causing the others to laugh once again.

It was nice to be in a friendly setting with everyone rather than stuck in a small space with the couple. You’d been seeing them at random times of the week, Wooyoung being the one inviting you out never Sumin. She text you from time to time however it was mainly to ask how San was and if you would both be seeing them soon as a group.

“How did everyone become friends then? I’ve never been with you all at the same time to know.” Sumin hand’s back the yearbook to Ningning and looks around expectantly.

“Ning and I are childhood friends.” You start.

“Then hell-spawn moved in next door.” Ningning glares at Wooyoung who does the same back.

Yunho smiles at the pair. “Mingi and I met them in middle school after Wooyoung tripped Ning into Mingi.”

“Jongho and I were always in the same classes and clubs.” You add.

“Seonghwa, Hongjoong and Yeosang were in the high school student committee so they were running into these two all the time.” Mingi points to you and Wooyoung who frown at him.

Wooyoung mumbles quietly “No need to add that.” making Sumin laugh.

“And San joined my home room and just never left.” You smile at him which he returns pretty quickly. “Made me show him around the whole school only to find out he didn’t even go there.”

Sumin’s jaw drops in disbelief as she looks at San who nods with a cheeky smile. “Wow so you really have been friends for years!” She looks over the room. “It’s really nice to have you all be so welcoming no matter how long we’ve known each other.”

“Don’t worry about it, anyway come with me. I have so many good pictures of Wooyoung, you have to see them.” Ningning stands up and offers a hand to Sumin which she quickly takes, standing up too.

As they leave to the hallway people begin to funnel out of the front room and you follow Yeosang to the kitchen. You both silently make yourself drinks as well as pour some extras for everyone else. There’s a quiet sound of chatting coming from behind but you and Yeosang continue in silence.

He watches over you with a look that asks how you are and all you can do is shrug, there’s not much you can do about how you feel but live with it, you have for years anyway.

A call of your name from the hallway takes your attention away from the silent conversation so you put your drink down and instead you go and join the other girls as they look at photos. Sumin points to a picture on the wall of you and Wooyoung, both of you in relatively formal outfits that match to a certain level. “When was this?” She seems so innocently intrigued that you take it off the wall and let her hold it. She brings it closer to her face and comments about how small you both were.

You’re both stood next to each other timidly, his hand holding yours as you both smile. His purple tie matching your purple dress. The picture was taken by your mom but Ningning had begged for a copy.

“The night after graduation, right?” Ningning leans it towards herself slightly.

The night after graduation. The night where Wooyoung pulled you away from the makeshift gathering you and everyone else in your year were having to tell you that he decided not to go to his dream college even though he was accepted. He told you he couldn’t go because he didn’t want to be far away from you because best friends don’t just up and leave each other.

The night where you almost had your first kiss, with Wooyoung at that. The only reason it didn’t happen was because Seonghwa thought something bad had happened (you guys were away for 30 minutes to be fair) but instead walked in on your lips just barely grazing each others. He left but that didn’t matter because the moment was gone. So you both settled on holding each other close and slow dancing until you were too tired to do it anymore.

The night your crush on Wooyoung came into full effect and you fully believed that the moment between you at the gathering would lead to something more but instead it went unaddressed and ignored. Your heart clenches at the memory and you have to physically stop yourself from clutching your heart.

Ningning breaks you out of your daze by asking the same question as Sumin. She watches your heartbreak for your younger self as you think of the night, after all besides Seonghwa who saw you she the only other person who knows fully what happened that night. “Yeah, we had to make our own prom because our senior pranks went too far.” Both you and Ningning laugh at the memories while Sumin continues to look at the picture.

“Wooyoung come look at this!” She exclaims. He pops around the corner and she passes the framed picture to him. He falls silent just as you did and looks up at you. “You two were so little.”

“We were indeed.”

“You were matching too.”

“She had no other friends, someone had to go with her.” He laughs to himself before leaving quickly, Sumin follows after him while asking about the senior pranks he had commit.

Ningning turns to you and places her hand on your shoulder, she strokes the are with her thumb. She’s given you the same look so many times you don’t have to speak to her to know what she’s going to say, it’s not like you could do anything about it anyway.

“Let it go, it’s fine.”

“No it’s not.” She tries to reason but you’ve already pushed her hand away from you and joined everyone else as they gather around the front room once more.

Loving Jung Wooyoung was like watching flowers die. Originally you cared for them but as time passes you realise can’t keep holding onto them. You realised this when Sumin text you last night asking if you and San would want to meet her and her boyfriend in a couple days to hang out. (She didn’t explicitly say ‘her boyfriend’ but saying ‘my Wooyoung’ was enough to make it sting a little.)

You responded to her a few hours later reminding her you and Wooyoung have plans, a text she leaves on delivered but you know she’s read it. So you’re confused when she walks in before your friend, she thanks him for holding the door for you and waves at you.

Wooyoung pulls out a chair for her across from you and then sits next to her. “I couldn’t leave Su behind, not if we’re coming here.” He holds her hand on the table. “It feels like it’s our place now.” You’re taken aback but you feel so much different from last time. You feel hollow, like an empty can that’s being kicked as someone walks down the street. It doesn’t hurt as much as you think it would, as much as it usually does.

“So what did you wanna see me for?” He keeps his body facing Sumin but looks your way.

“Just a catch up is all, we haven’t seen each other in a while.” Your statement makes the atmosphere awkward. You all know why you haven’t seen each other but it goes unsaid and instead makes Sumin put her head down awkwardly.

You lean back in your chair and cross your leg over the other. “How have you guys been then?”

“Well, we’ve been alright.” Wooyoung starts. “Su met my parents recently, that happened too.”

She nods. “They’re really nice.”

“How are you?” He follows up, looking away from Sumin.

“I’ve been good. San, Yunho and I have been hanging out loads, we’re going bowling with Ningning and Yeosang next Saturday so, yeah, I’ve been busy.”

Wooyoung leans back too, confused. “Where was the invite?” He tries to joke but it doesn’t come off as one.

“We sorted it in the group chat, you never replied so we thought you were busy.”

“Well I’m sure we can come right?” He looks over to Sumin who agrees, stating that their calendars are empty.

You shake your head and look down at the table. “We already booked it for five. We planned it like two weeks ago so.”

The table falls silent. None of you are too sure what to talk about. It’s true, you did call Wooyoung to catch up and hang out but with or without Sumin there wasn’t much to talk about. How do you catchup with your best friend who’s supposed to know everything about you? He spent all him time with his girlfriend, which is understandable, but it felt like he was leaving you behind. Not only you but the rest of the group.

There was nothing you could talk about, leaving the three of you sitting quietly looking around the cafe. It wasn’t the same as last time, this time you weren’t doing it because you were hurt or upset and didn’t want to look at the couple. This time you were doing it because it was awkward and there was nothing else you could say. You wanted to reconnect to Wooyoung but you didn’t know where to start.

You wanted to be his friend again.

That small realisation hits you hard. You weren’t stuck on him. You wanted to go back to the way it was before. You’d have to relearn everything about him but you were willing to do it if it all felt normal again.

There’s nothing you can say to fill the silence at the moment. All of you shift uncomfortably. Wooyoung wants to see you, Sumin doesn’t want to do anything that could upset you considering she knows (well, knew) about your feelings towards her boyfriend and you’re fighting yourself on what to do.

“I think I should go.” You announce, you aren’t sure to who but they both seem to take it on board. “I’ll see you around.”

You and Sumin give Wooyoung no time to argue as she assumes your seat and you leave, she smiles at you softly on your way out which you reciprocate quietly.

The scene mirrors the one when you first met her, only this time she knows you’re watching through the window but she pays no mind to them. You watch as she talks his ear off while he nods and agrees every now and then. He stares at her with an emotion you can’t quite read, perhaps you weren’t in love enough to know if it’s a stage of that or not.

Before you can think about your next steps your phone rings and you’re quick to pick up. “Hello, San.”

He makes a small sound of shock. “You sound much more joyful than I would have expected.”

Taking your eyes away from them you look up at the clear sky. “Yeah, well, it’s a good day.”

“That’s good.” San sounds just as content as you. “That’s what acceptance is like.”

“How would you know?” As if your brain is working on autopilot you begin walking toward Aurora.

You can hear some sort of movement on the other end of the line. “We’ve all been through it at least once.” Hearing Byeol meow at San as he walks past her makes you both laugh, her volume will never daily to make you smile.

Both of you stay quiet, the silence isn’t awakened like earlier or sad like last time, it’s nice. Neither of you had to fill the space or force anything, you see each other so often now that there’s nothing to update on.

His car door slams and his keys jingle. “Aurora?”

“Yeah.” Smiling, you cut the call off with the small cafe in sight.

Loving yourself after so long is like having a picnic in Summer. It’s bright. It’s warm. It’s enjoyable. San sits across from you on your blanket, empty food boxes around you and bottles of fizzy leaning against your leg, staring you down while he paints. He pouts as the 30 minute timer goes off, cutting off his playlist when it does.

“Hey drop the pout! At least you’re not doing this with Hongjoong or Yeosang, they would have wiped the floor with both of us.” San pulls his painting closer to himself as you reach out for his. “Come on, I worked hard on this!” You plead but he shakes his head.

“Five more minutes?”

“No, we can flip them at the same time-“

“But you’re so much better than me at drawing!”

“I’m literally not!”

He finishes up some details before hesitantly handing you the small canvas, you do the same with a smile and at the same time you both flip them over to see the paintings.

San had (poorly) painted a portrait of you in the park you were sat in with the exact same setting behind you, a stream and flowers behind you. There were a few ducks painted on there too, all sat in a line. You smile at the painting, making San smile too.

He checks over your picture and immediately spots Byeol in the corner. It makes him smile, how much you love that cat.

“What do you think?”

“It’s perfect, I’ll put it up in my home office.” He puts the picture down and admires you staring down at his portrait.

You turn the paintings face up and leave them on the blanket to dry in the sun while you begin to eat any remaining snacks and fruit.

The whole experience is calming and comforting. “Next time we’ll have to bring Ningning and Jongho. There’s something there, I’m telling you.“ San laughs and shakes his head before offering you to feed you a strawberry which you gladly bite. “There is something there! There always has been! I’m telling you San!”

“Or we could bring Byeol on a harness and leash.”

“Why didn’t you say before we left?! She’s home alone on a nice day and we could have brought her with us!” Your phone begins to vibrate, presumably with texts, which you ignore to continue talking. “Next time it’s nice out we will.”

“Alright, promise?” He reaches his pinky over to you and you lock them. “Promised. Now are you going to get that?”

You push your thumb against his with a small smile. “We had to make it official first.”

Once you let go you pick up your phone, opening it quickly to see where the notifications were from only to see _ on your messages. Opening the app you realise they’re all from Wooyoung.

Today 13:16

r u busy rn

can I come over

I’m freaking out rn

I think su is done with me

what do I do

what do women do

how do I apologise

nvm she doesn’t want me to apologise

she wants time

what does that mean

i’m out with san right now

i told you two days ago

but it’s our first fight

you should probably message hongjoong

he’s good with stuff like this

pleas dude

wooyoung i can’t help

sorry

You put your phone back down without awaiting his response. “He fought with Sumin and he wants to know what to do.”

“Are you going to see him then?” San seems slightly nervous about your answer which thankfully goes unnoticed by you. Once you shake your head you can see him visibly relax.

Lying back you laugh at him. “Why would I?”

“You usually do.” He reasons, moving to sit down next to you.

“Fair.” You turn your head towards him and squint to see him. “Well, I’m here with you so there's no need to go anywhere. do you want me to go?"

San lifts up his hand to block the sun out of your eyes, letting you look at him properly. "No." He shakes his head while biting his lip.

"Then I won't." You move your own hand away from your eyes and rest it on your stomach as you close your eyes. "It's been really nice today, thank you. I think we should do this more often, with Byeol next time."

"That would be nice." He's thankful that you can't see him because he's sure that the face he's pulling right now isn't the best, he's trying to find the right words for what he's about to ask. "Do you think we could, possibly, may- Never mind actually.” He shakes his head and looks around the park awkwardly.

“Maybe next time we could make it a date. I don’t want to jump into anything now after everything but I think, if you’re willing to wait, we could try.” You turn your head away from San and sigh.

He smiles to himself. “I’ve waited for a while, what’s a couple more months.” Both of you quietly laugh at his comment. “Don’t fall asleep now, we’re yet to go on the swings.”

“Oh, leave me alone! I’m just resting my eyes!”

Loving you is like dreaming. It’s so incredible, it’s everything you want. Except when you when up you have to face reality and it’s difficult. That’s how Wooyoung feels as he watches you laugh at a joke Yunho says he doesn’t find all that funny, maybe it’s because he leaned in and told you personally and Mingi and Yeosang laughed because they just caught him saying it. You laugh so hard a hand rests on your stomach while the other hits Yunho’s shoulder.

“You’re staring holes into him.” Jongho comments beside him. Wooyoung continues to watch you from the other end of the table as you place some meat from the small barbecue onto Mingi and Yeosang’s rice while telling Yunho to get his own. “Wooyoung eat your food or go.” Jongho repeats your gesture but gives himself and his sulking friend meat instead, Seonghwa scolding him as he does.

Ningning sits across from Wooyoung and shakes her head. She glances over at San who watches you attentively, a smile slowly forming on her face. He stares at you with that same look you used to have when staring at Wooyoung and it’s enough to let her know you’ll be alright. She’s glad it’s him. Anyone else and she would have had her doubts but San stuck with you throughout all your hardships and struggles, even if he hurt himself along the way. Again, much like you did with Wooyoung but you’re past him now.

Wooyoung looks across at Ningning and follows her eyes to San. He’s brought straight back to reality. A cold feeling washes over him. He’s confused but when everything clicks his heart burns. His face mimics yours when you first met Sumin as he begins to notice all those small things he didn’t before.

How you left soon after meeting Sumin. When you lied about seeing them together that night (something neither of you have ever addressed, he’s not sure why). Why you were upset about being left on your day. All the uncomfortable moments and shifting when they spoke to you about you.

“It’s not… fair.” He whispers, Jongho is the only person that catches it and watches him leave. The group turns to him as his seat screeches when he leaves. He meets your eyes and for a second he spots understanding which is then followed by guilt. Jongho goes after him as he makes his exit, leaving everyone else to continue their conversations and eating.

Ningning follows suit too, leaving the two hotheads alone would result in an outburst you don’t deserve and as your longest friend all she ever wanted was your happiness. Wooyoung’s ruined it once she she’ll be damned if she lets it happen again.

Both Jongho and Ningning stare at him with pity as he watches you, San and Yunho laugh together. “It’s as if I hadn’t just left. I feel so-“

“Invisible?” Ningning leans towards him slightly. He nods and looks between you and San. “You can’t expect her to pay attention to you all the time.”

Wooyoung doesn’t come back inside even after Ningning and Jongho do instead the pair of them watch him through the window as he leaves. Both you and San see him from the corner of your eyes but by the time you’re properly looking he’s gone.

Instead he walks all the way back home, leaving his stuff behind in the process. It’s late and the street lights barely work but he’d rather be alone. It’s probably not the best to be alone with his own thoughts and feelings but it’s better than seeing you and San.

In the restaurant Jongho and Ningning watch their friend’s phone vibrate, it’s the third time ‘Sumin 💕🎀’ has shown up on the screen. Both of them leave it alone as they continue eating.

There’s nothing they could do but watch the cycle repeat. You’d both put each other through it unknowingly, only a little too late.

147 notes · View notes

vettelsvee · 13 hours

Text

I FORGIVE YOU, SEB | Sebastian Vettel

f1 masterlist | history series masterlist | season 1

summary: things are so difficult between seb and di, but they try to make things work... or, at least, that's seb's goal

word count: 3974

warnings: bad language, curse words, toxic relationships, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of sex (blowjob). everything that is represented here doesn’t define how drivers are in real life. remember this is a fictional work and all you see represented here is just fiction. narrated in both di and seb's pov.

a/n: posting this from uni because i've been so stressed that i totally forgot about posting the last chapter, as well as a few one shots, i'm sorry! buuuut... history season 2 is just finished! history season 3, leave, will be posted from may 24th to may 31st.

taglist: [@theseerbetweenus @annewithaneofthegreengable @vincentvanshoe @formulaonebuff @roisinivy] if you wanna be tagged in each part just tell me in the comments <3

feedback, as well as reblogs and comments, are truly appreciated!

2009

Heppenheim, Germany

Sebastian

"I've talked to Di and we're going to meet."

Britta's expression was a picture when I told her that, so was mine even though I tried to show just the opposite: confidence.

After my words, I positioned myself in front of the woman, who was lost in the pages of a magazine, absorbed, possibly reading about how Jenson Button had won the 2009 Formula 1 season, completely deservedly, over yours truly, Sebastian Vettel, and also about the high chances the newly incorporated Fernando Alonso had of winning the next one.

"Sebastian Vettel is nothing but a spoiled, pampered child, who is being given everything he definitely does not deserve, for being a false young promise in the world of motorsport. What the German does best is to put on shows and be the center of attention, just as it happened with Diana Wagner at the last German Grand Prix. The girl, an Austrian living in Barcelona and, let's not deny it, quite attractive, is now happily pregnant by Nico Rosberg, with whom she started her relationship..."

I couldn't continue reading the nonsense that the media had been talking about lately since Rosberg was seen with that blonde who, while they didn't know she was Di, I knew perfectly as soon as I saw her face because I knew her all too well. My nerves plummeted, and that's why, as if it were a reflex act, I did nothing but snatch the tangle of photos and gossip from my PR and tossed it aside, without looking where it fell, but forgetting about its existence shortly after.

"Why did you do that?" she yelled at me, visibly angry, pointing her index finger at me. "What do you mean you're going to talk to Diana?"

Didn't she understand German or was I explaining myself poorly?

"I've talked to Di and we're going to meet," I repeated, a little louder this time. "We're going to meet at a nearby café. I think we need to clarify everything that has happened since..."

"Since she found out you were dating Hanna because you didn't bother to be more careful or put in enough effort to hide it," she cut me off.

Exactly.

"You know as much as I do that was going to happen," I countered, even though she was right, simply because, as always, I didn't want to admit it.

"Don't you dare contradict me, Sebastian Vettel," she replied, now standing up and approaching me angrily. "And even less so on this. Most of what has happened, if not all, has been your fault."

That was a lie. The fault had been solely Hanna's for behaving so badly with Diana that day, or my sister's, who sometimes seems stupid and doesn't know when to keep quiet.

I didn't know that Prater was kissing me on purpose so that my paddock girl would see it and it would bother her. Either that, or I pretended so well not to hurt my girl, the love of my life, by not having her at a Grand Prix earlier.

Whatever it was, everything went from bad to worse, and it ended up hurting me more than expected because not only did I have to endure days of bad mood from my girlfriend, but also desperation and headaches from not receiving a response to the voicemail I sent to Di.

And here we are now.

"Before you tell me that the fault lies with Hanna, who was only happy to finally spend time with her boyfriend," she began to lecture me, "or with your sister, who is just a child who did it to enjoy time with her family," was she reading my mind or was I dreaming? "you know it's yours and yours alone."

Yes, I knew all that was true- However, it was easier for me to deal with the guilt and the sense of guilt if I blamed others for asking for what, although at first I thought it would be something more routine in my life, ended up becoming something essential that I never thought I would lose.

Better than something, someone.

"You've completely ignored Diana since you yelled all those things at her at Nürburgring and she ran away. And Hanna? I don't want to speak ill of her," she clarified before saying anything else, "but you've allowed her to come between your friendship with Diana and not only that: to manipulate you too."

"Britta, it wasn't like that," I tried to defend my... girlfriend? "I was the one who started to obsess about whether I wanted Hanna or Di, and I became almost sickly obsessed with the latter to the point that I made Hanna feel bad. It's my fault no matter how much I try to play dumb most of the time," I admitted.

"And didn't she make Diana feel bad because of her jealousy? Because she couldn't stand that there was a remote possibility that you might replace her with your teammate?"

She didn't just make her feel bad, she made her feel like the crap you find lying on the ground that everyone steps on except you, because you don't want to get dirty. She had enough the previous year with Alex and company, and that's why I tried to talk to my girlfriend. Every attempt to make her see reason, to my misfortune and, above all, Di's, was in vain: according to her, Diana was just a hindrance in her path, and that's why she ended up clashing with her several times. And if she kissed me in the middle of the garage, it was because she felt like it, not because she wanted to make her feel bad. That was the last thing she intended.

Could that, Hanna's possible manipulation, be causing my confusion? Or was it that I was...?

It didn't matter. After all, it was not important to rack my brains over a person who was no longer in my life; at least, not as much as before or as much as I would like.

"It's not your confusion, Sebastian," I didn't understand how the woman in front of me was guessing each and every one of the thoughts I was having. "You simply didn't try hard enough to take care of that friendship, and that's what made Hanna, in the end, get her way."

"Di should have understood from the beginning that we were together," I ignored her little speech. I was tired of hearing things that, from my point of view, weren't true.

She sat back down on the couch, inviting me to sit beside her. As soon as I did, I noticed that her expression was completely different from what it usually was: while Britta used to be smiling most of the time, now she seemed more serious, and that was not at all common for her.

"Listen to me carefully, Sebastian," she took my face in her hands and brought our faces as close as possible. "Neither you are to blame for falling in love with Diana, nor is she to blame for you behaving like this with her."

Like this? Ignoring her, as I should have done from the beginning, and putting my girlfriend before her?

Britta was crazy, and she kept saying more and more crazy things that made me feel crazier.

Or was I the one with the problem, and she was just making me see reality?

"Don't you think Hanna is afraid?" Roeske interjected after an uncomfortable silence of just a few seconds.

"Afraid of what?" I asked, not understanding what she meant.

"Of being replaced," she snapped. "Of being replaced by Di."

My head began to accumulate a series of thoughts that I couldn't describe. I was sure that Hanna had been the love of my life for quite some time; at the same time, I knew firsthand that all the jealousy attacks and gossip she unleashed about the blonde who was becoming my favorite were just that: nonsensical words about someone you don't really know.

We tend to prejudge and hurt when we don't know the true identity of someone, and that's the saddest thing about this world: that we rarely get to know the real face of people because we don't give them the chance. And whose fault is that? Ours, for speaking before knowing.

I know that if Di and Hanna weren't caught up in all this turmoil because of me, they would be good friends. I am lucky, or unlucky, depending on how you look at it, to say that my girls are too similar and different at the same time; and I'm not just talking about physically.

"Maybe Hanna felt threatened by the bond Di and I created last year," I admitted.

"Does Hanna know you're meeting Diana?"

No way.

"What? No!" I yelled. "If Hanna panics, I panic… And if I panic, the media panics and start talking shit as usual," I explained as I quickly moved around the living room. "I also don't want to give you extra work during the holidays, Britta. You know how I am."

"Exactly, because I know how you are, it's what scares me the most," she objected. "Have you thought about how you're going to tell the media that you've ended your relationship?"

How? Me, ended with Hanna?

"But..."

"You told me you wanted to talk to Wagner about that, Sebastian."

She threw that at me without any scruples, and what shocked me the most, without it being true. If I remember correctly, I hadn't said anything about my breakup in this short conversation we were having because there was nothing to say: Hanna and I hadn't broken up, we were still together and would continue to be. Although I wish not.

What was she saying?

God, feeling confused right now was an understatement. My head was spinning, and I didn't know why. Maybe, I had consumed some weed and that's why I was like this, because it wasn't normal for me to feel more and more confused, as if I were in an alternate reality where I couldn't trust anything or anyone.

"I'm leaving, I can't take this anymore," I lied as best as I could.

I realized I had been talking to myself when I turned around because Britta was no longer there.

I left my house as fast as I could, and a feeling of anxiety began to grow inside me. I felt very strange, and I had no idea why. As soon as I set foot on the street, completely covered in snow, I noticed that although everything around me seemed like my town, in a way it wasn't. With my hands tucked into the pockets of my RedBull jacket, which I hardly ever wore out of season, I was looking around because I had never felt Heppenheim so different.

Children weren't running around on the sidewalks to go to the parks that Lara and Fabian used to frequent, and that Melanie, Stephanie, and I used to visit some years ago; the same was true for the cars, which seemed to have disappeared without a trace. Not to mention the hustle and bustle in the small neighborhood shops and the only shopping center... there was no trace of anyone.

Even the wind's breath was too gentle, and it seemed to mimic the sighs of a sleeping person.

But I focused on what had been going around in my head since that stupid fight on my part, obviously, I had with Diana.

Hanna and she were two people who, with the passing of more or less time, had become fundamental to my life. While Hanna was the person I was sharing my personal life with and building a future, the same thing happened with Di: I literally spent hours with her, especially since the intern had joined, at the same time as me, Red Bull Racing team.

There were too many issues to handle alone, and that's why I hadn't confronted them: hence my anxiety had increased, attacks included. And, if we add the criticism from journalists in the motorsport and gossip world...

Why did I feel the need to hide my friendship with Di from Hanna? And to hide my relationship with Hanna from Di?

And Hanna's jealousy… was it really because she was afraid of losing what we had built up for some time now, and had planned to build in the years to come? I knew my girlfriend had insecurities, just like me, but were they so deep that they would hurt Diana?

Had I lost Di because of fear of the unknown?

The whirlwind was still there when suddenly, I bumped into someone. I lifted my gaze, and there she was, as beautiful as ever. Her blonde hair fell over her shoulders, and her bangs covered her eyes, my favorite physical part of her, more than usual. Despite seeming just as surprised as I was to have run into each other so suddenly, she was, to my surprise, the first to speak:

"Hello, Seb."

"Hello, Di."

I didn't know where to start or what to say to her. There was so much to talk about and, especially, to clarify, that the words began to get stuck in my throat, as if they didn't want to come out. She also seemed very nervous, and that only made me lose myself even more in her.

"I know that maybe it wasn't a good idea to show up here, but I think I owed it to you in some way."

No, she didn't owe it to me, but Diana was too good for this world. In the end, she was the first to articulate a word, her hands pointing to the space around us, which no longer seemed to be my hometown, but the Nürburgring pit lane, right where we last talked. My confusion was evident. At least, that was what the strange look Wagner gave me showed.

"What's wrong with you?" the girl wanted to know, still standing in place, as if she couldn't move. "Is it about what happened here a few months ago?"

"I'm confused, Di," I had the courage to admit.

The blonde nodded understandingly, as if she were a machine.

"I completely understand, Seb. The same thing happens to me with Nico and with you," she replied. Was that why she was dating Rosberg? Her belly, much more noticeable than usual, seemed to suggest otherwise. "Hanna and I... let's say we didn't get along from the beginning," she returned to the previous topic.

"But why?" I insisted almost desperately. "What bothers you about her?"

"I don't know, you should ask her that," she replied honestly. All I know is that your girlfriend wasn't good to me. Besides, after all you told me, here," she pointed to the asphalt, "we became strangers to each other."

"That's what I don't understand, Di," her gaze made me correct myself immediately, "I mean, Diana... You and I are friends, aren't we?"

She shook her head. Iimmediately, she began to nod. She began to hold onto her belly tightly, something I considered as a kind of defense mechanism to feel more comfortable and, in part, calmer.

"Yes, just friends," she clarified with a forced smile. "Do you think we could have something more at some point?"

Yes, of course I wanted something more with her at some point, but I couldn't tell her because I knew she was already making her life with Rosberg… at least according to the media.

I wanted to tell her that I wanted to leave Hanna and start a relationship with her. I wanted her to become Diana Vettel, my wife, and make her the happiest person in the world along with our children. Saying that I wanted to share a life with her for the rest of my life was what I most desired, but not only my voice, but also my pride, and partly my reputation and common sense, made me hide all those feelings.

In those moments, I wished I was Nico Rosberg. The only thing that comforted me was knowing that, knowing me, I would be treating her as she deserved. Di deserved to be treated like a queen, and that was an understatement.

"No," I tried to hide the truth as much as possible. "You and I will always be friends, Diana Wagner."

While Diana kept talking to me about her pregnancy and her relationship with my teammate, I began to hear whispers that gradually became louder, as if someone, shouting in my ear, was interrupting our conversation.

"I know, Sebastian. You and I will always be one, no matter who gets in between us," the Austrian replied, still not moving from her spot.

"Do you think we can try again?" I said, trying not to show the emotion I really felt when I saw a shy smile forming on her face. "Do you think you can forgive me?"

She looked at me and could do nothing but nod repeatedly, as if she were marking some kind of rhythm. Her lips curved even more, and relief began to wash over me.

"I forgive you, Seb."

My eyes snapped open, and I woke up to a little light seeping through the curtains. My heart was racing and sweat was soaking my forehead much more than after a race. For a moment, I didn't know where I was, so I took some time, albeit desperately, to recognize everything.

It was my room. I was on my bed, with Hanna beside me, shaking me as if her life depended on it.

It had all been a dream, and I didn't know how to feel about it, relieved or worried that nothing had been real: relieved because, maybe, there was a remote possibility that Di hadn't gone out with Nico, and worried simply because what had been discussed had been in vain.

"What's wrong, honey?"

My eyes roamed over to my girlfriend, who leaned over me and started planting kisses all over my face. I could see her breasts exposed, and I also felt my nakedness under the sheets. Gradually, I remembered the events of last night and how, after drinking a few too many glasses of champagne with our families for New Year's Eve, Hanna and I ended up begging each other for more pleasure.

"Oh, Seb... stop being so silly," she said, rearranging herself and leaning on the headboard, still looking at me. "It was all a dream, but you don't have to worry about anything or anyone, and much less about the people who don't respond to the voicemails you're so good at hiding!" Her ironic tone made my anger grow a little, but I let it go. It wasn't the day or the right time to finally tell the blonde a few things. "I trust you," she kissed me, "and I know that 2010 is going to be a great year for you," she concluded.

Her words reassured me and reminded me of everything I had done so far, and what I would continue to do until further notice because I couldn't afford to hurt anyone; I was too good even for that, no matter how much the press tried to sell the opposite.

I had to continue ignoring Diana Wagner, act as if she didn't exist, or at least as if she had never appeared in my life and turned it upside down. Turn a deaf ear to the fact that I had fallen in love with her, and forget to acknowledge that I was too afraid to leave Hanna because the unknown terrified me more than I had ever thought. I was used to routine and didn't want to cause more harm than I apparently had to my best friend, Hanna Prater, no matter how much she was doing to me by behaving and talking in such ways about the girl who, in part, could have been me.

If Di, my Di, was the right person, we were right for each other, we would end up finding each other again somehow.

[...]

2009

December 31st Gland, Switzerland

Schumacher Residence

Diana

A black sequined dress, perfectly fitted to my curves, with a quite promising neckline that showed even more than necessary, was what Nico Rosberg, the new Mercedes driver, and my boyfriend, had chosen for our first dinner together. My blonde hair fell over my shoulders, a bit tousled; the same went for my makeup, a little smudged. It had all been the German's idea, who had decided to have a quick session of sex, mainly a blowjob that he had fancied as a belated Christmas gift, before going down to the main hall of the Schumacher residence.

The night before New Year's Eve was going wonderfully. As soon as my boyfriend told me that the family, and more specifically, Michael, his new teammate, had invited us to spend New Year's Eve at their house, I couldn't contain my excitement. Obviously, Nico got angry and yelled at me to stop acting like a fool, that I wasn't five years old to react like that. I was annoyed at first, but I ended up agreeing with him. It wasn't the occasion to behave like a fan going to my idol's house.

Dinner was better than I expected, as well as the warm welcome I received from Corinna, along with the kindness and affection I quickly felt for Gina and Mick while the men chatted, made me feel at home for the first time. I was so relaxed that I didn't even force myself to look for my mobile phone, hidden somewhere among Nico's belongings, to answer the calls that my sister, who was with my father and his sister, my aunt, in the hospital, would have possibly made to me. If something good had come from my father dying faster and faster it was that, in part, the family had come together again.

The countdown began as we talked animatedly about trivial things, like anecdotes and a few jokes. The lights went out suddenly, and I saw the seven-time champion coming with some sparklers in his hands, trying not to burn himself, which he handed out to each of us.

"Ten, nine, eight..."

2010 would indeed be my year, I was sure of that.

"Seven, six, five..."

Remembering him came in flashbacks, and as much as I told myself it was time to get over it, it was impossible, especially when everything seemed so red in my head.

"Four, three, two..."

I had to do my best to leave Sebastian behind, even though forgetting him was like trying to know somebody I never met.

He was my past, and Nico was my future.

"Happy New Year!"

Nico, catching me off guard and ignoring the children's dancing and the affectionate kiss of the married couple, took my chin firmly, forcefully, and kissed me desperately, as if I were going to leave at any moment. His tongue slipped into my mouth even though I hadn't given permission; as always, I ended up reluctantly responding. His hands were roaming my body, and I could feel his desire awaken with the slight touches our intimacy seemed to be igniting.

He knew perfectly well how to make me feel valid, loved, desired; I was clear that if he treated me like this, it was because I deserved it.

If I was a game to Nico Rosberg, I was more than willing to accept all his deals to feel loved by someone once in my life because I knew that no one, never, was going to end up loving me.

As the tabloids had begun to say after the leaked photos in Monaco, who would want to be with a girl like me?

Who would want Diana Wagner?

23 notes · View notes

scuderiahoney · 19 hours

Note

hi lovey!

ik requests are closed, but im desperate for frat boy max after the pics from this weekend… so instead of requesting, im bringing a lil bite sized frat boy max to you!

nsfw concept tho, so please just stop reading and delete if it makes u feel uncomfy! ik ur page says 18+ content, but i still wanted to give u a lil disclaimer.

—

in motion has me in a chokehold (i keep rereading it. obsessed) so he’s a mix of college hockey boy and frat boy. he’s driven, as usual, and hyper focused on his performance, so i dont see him being a fuckboy—it would take too much effort and time for him— but he’s definitely a tease yk?

they’d have their parties and there’d be a group of girls that flock to him each time. he’d flirt, he’d have his fun, but in the end he’d stick to his boys.

but then, at one party, he sees this one girl and she’s fucking stunning. and he wants her. she plays into his flirting. they get touchier throughout the night. he finds it fun to lowkey manhandle her, moving her around the frat with his hands on her hips.

and i keep thinking about frat boy max and his fucking backwards hat and it’s literally driving me FERAL. maybe at one point, she takes his hat off his head and puts it on (backwards obviously)… and it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen. bc she’s gorgeous and it’s his hat and the lil possessive gremlin in his brain goes ‘mine’.

there’s people all around them. the kitchen is crowded, but he doesn’t care. he’s got her pressed against the counters, one arm wrapped around her, his other hand on the countertop boxing her in. lips locked, her hands are tugging at his messy hat hair and he’s groaning into her mouth. he starts kissing down her neck, getting more and more into it as he feels her hot breath against his ear. he slips a thigh between her legs and he guides her to rub against him. the moment he hears a moan slip past her lip, he gives in entirely and is practically dragging her upstairs to his room.

he can’t even make it to his bed. he’s got her into his room and pressed her against the door. pulls her top down so her tits spill out over the top and mouths at them as she grinds against him. he’s made it his goal to mark her up as much as possible.

but when she sinks down to her knees in front of him and looks up at him, fiddling with his belt and zipper, with his fucking backwards cap on her head? bro, he’s done for. she hasn’t even gotten her mouth on him yet, but she’s the prettiest fucking thing he’s ever seen and he’s made up his mind. she’s his now. he’ll do anything.

his actions are entirely oxymoronic. he’s fucking her face while he’s gently caressing her jaw and cheekbone with his thumb. he brushes her hair out of her face so it falls behind her shoulders, but then has a strong grip on the back of her neck when he realises the hat doesn’t let him hold her hair in a ponytail. whispering the dirtiest shit to her, but always calling her his pretty girl, or baby, or love.

he desperately wants to cinch his eyes shut and throw his head back bc ‘omg her mother feels like velvet’ but he feels like he physically cannot look away from her.

she ends up riding him as he’s propped up against his headboard. he can’t keep his hands off her, shifting from her ass to her hips, her waist, her tits, her throat, her clit, her thighs—he can’t choose.

he keeps the hat on her head through all of it. it’s only when she collapses onto his chest once she’s spent that he takes the hat off and throws it somewhere in the room. he rakes his hands through her hair, plants a kiss on her forehead. her entire body is flushed; she’s panting into the crook of his neck. there will be fingertip bruises on her hips in the morning, and the hickies across her neck and chest are already blossoming a deep red.

yeah, she’s the prettiest sight he’s ever seen. and he’s not letting her go. (well, only when he goes to get his hat a few minutes later. he wants her wearing it as he goes down on her til she can’t take any more.)

—

lmao. went a bit insane mb. what can i say, frat boy max drives me mad. hope u like :) sorry if it was a lot haha

love u! hope ur taking care of urself.

love, 🚀

OMG pls do not apologize!!! hot hot hot hot hot!!!

all the frat boy coded pics of max have had me drooooooooling you have no idea!! & this really hit the spot for me oh my god thank you so much. he WOULD be so touchy & so possessive

bonus points for him not usually being a ‘relationship’ guy but he falls hard for her bc there’s just something so enticing ab her. he gives her one of his hoodies to wear afterwards & just falls even more

#box box #anon #🚀 anon

35 notes · View notes

ollielikesdinos · 19 hours

Text

Stressful day

Little! Spencer Reid, CG! Reader

! comfort !

TW: use of nicknames like "mama" and "baby", crying little

You look over to Spencer's desk for what feels like the 20th time in the past five minutes

You notice how anxious and stressed out Spencer looks and you decide to take action

You get up from your desk and you walk over to Spencer's desk

You gently grab his hand and you lead him out of the bullpen and into an empty office

You sit Spencer down on the couch as you give him a worried glance

"What's wrong?" You ask in a soft voice as you crouch in front of Spencer

Spender just looked up at you with big eyes full of tears that are threatening to spill

You, being Spencer's caregiver, immediately go into comfort mode

"Shhh, shhh, it's okay, are you feeling small?" You ask in a comforting voice as you sit down next to Spencer

Spender just nods and he crawls into your lap

"Mama" he whimpers as he buries his face into the crook of your next

You just sit there with him, rocking him back and forth, whispering comforting things into his ear

After about ten minutes Spencer finally calms down enough for you to be able to start questioning him

"Can I ask you a few questions?" You ask softly, stroking his hair

Spencer simply nods so you start asking him questions

"How old are you feeling baby?" You ask

Spencer thinks for a moment before he holds up one finger

"Oh my.. you're super little today aren't you?" You say

"Can I ask what caused you to regresses so suddenly? And so little?" You ask after a moment

Spencer just whines and wraps himself around you even more

You sigh, knowing your not going to get much out of him until he's big again and you just hold him

"How about we go home and we just watch movies and cuddle all afternoon? How does that sound?"

Spencer nods before putting his hands to his ears

You knew what that meant

You quickly grab Spencer's noise cancelling headphones and you put them on his head

"All better?" You ask

Spencer nods once more and he coos softly

You quickly find a way to somehow gather both yours and Spencer's stuff and you get him out of the building without issue

Soon enough your walking into yours and Spencer's shared apartment with a very regressed Spencer attached to your side

"How about we get you into some comfy clothes, hm?" You ask as you slowly lead Spencer into your guys bedroom

He just nods and you take that as permission to help him change

Soon enough you exit your bedroom carrying Spencer on your hip who's wearing sweatpants, a baggy t-shirt and has a pacifier in his mouth

You walk into the kitchen and you place him onto the counter

"Bottle or sippy?" You ask holding up the two options

Spencer thinks for a moment before he points at the sippy cup

You nod and you quickly fill the sippy cup up with chocolate milk

You give him the milk before you carry him into the living room

You turn on a move and you both quickly drift off to sleep

•

A few hours later you wake up and you notice Spencer reading a book next to you, he seems to be completely out of his little headspace

"Hey" you say softy as you sit up

He looks up from his book and he quickly puts it away

"Hi" he murmurs

"Do you wanna talk about it?" You ask, putting your hand up to his hair to start playing with it

He sighs and looks down

"I'm sorry"

You look at nim contused

"For what?" You ask

"Being a burden" he mumbles

You sigh and you scoot closer to him, laying your head on his shoulder

"You, Spencer Reid, are not a burden" you say softly

Spencer looks down at you, "you sure?" He askes

"Yes, I'm sure" you reply

He smiles softly before looking down again

"I was really stressed and overwhelmed today.. I don't know why but I just woke up really overstimulated and then I had so much paperwork when I got to the office which is usually fine for me but I couldn't focus and it was just all too much" he rambles

"Shhh, it's okay, I understand.. why didn't you say anything?" You ask

"I didn't wanna be a burden" he whispers

"Like I said before - you are not, and will never be a burden" you say

"Thank you" he says after a moment

"For what?" You ask

"For being you"

———————

Im sorry if this is horrible!! This is my first time ever writing an agere story surprisingly

Requests are open if anyone has something they want me to write !! :3

#spencer reid #criminal minds #sfw agere #sfw interaction only #age regression #dr spencer reid #agere blog

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daniyummy · 2 days

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PART TWO! I'm sorry this took so long, I've had no motivation. But here I am, anyways, this will have fluff, angst and a twinge of smut. CW: Unprotected sex. (Assume you're on the pill)

Part 1 | Part 2

Happy reading!

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

You saw it. Of course you did. Hundreds, maybe even thousands of people tagged you. Did you feel bad? No, you were in the right. But, did you miss him? Yeah, really badly. You wanted to go to his apartment and tell him all the things you've been think since he posted that a few days ago.

You wanted an apology in person. Not on a Instagram post. Yet it took balls to do that. Post publicly that you were an asshole to your ex-girlfriend? Sure, you wanted an in person apology, but you were glad that he at least apologized for being an ass. You still loved him. But you didn't know if he moved on already. You didn't know what to do.

Or, did you know what to do?

Were you being a coward? 100%. Hell, you've been staring at the post religiously, it's become a part of your routine. So it was no surprise when you went to scroll you "accidentally" liked it. You quickly unliked it, praying Colby didn't get the notification. You knew he did, but hopefully he missed it. Little did you know, he's been staring at his inbox waiting for that one notification from you. His heart jumped out of his chest once he saw it. He sat up in his bed and nearly tripped well running downstairs to find Sam.

"Sam! She saw it!" Colby screamed, Sam flinched. "Lower your voice, dude." He mumbled, then looked confused. "Who saw what?" Sam looked at him with furrowed brows. "Y/N. Aka the love of my life." Colby held his phone out Sam looked and scrolled to find the notification, his eyes widening. "You think she's still into you? Also, that was cheesy as fuck." Sam cringed, Colby rolled his eyes. "Shut up, it's true. I don't know if she still feels that way.. " He sighed.

"If she liked it, it meant she saw it. She would've ignored it and blocked you if she didn't." Sam says, looking at his friend, a little concern behind his gaze. "Don't wait for her to come to you, one: she won't, two: it makes you seem like a dick who thinks you're above bring the first one to apologise first. But...if you apologise first, you seem desperate." Sam shrugs, Colby looks at him and furrows his eyebrows. "I am desperate.."

"Jesus Christ Colby.." Sam sighs, a slight smile on his face, Colby raised his hands on defense. "What? You told me you wanted me to be more honest with you!" Colby points to Sam, he chuckles softly. "Whatever. You gonna go see her..?" Sam asks, the concern returning. "I want to..I miss her. I'm an idiot for a losing girl like her." He replies, Sam nodded. Colby looked at him in faux shock. "You weren't supposed to agree, you dick!" Colby smacks the back of Sam's head. "They were your words!" Sam argues.

Colby rolled his eyes before grabbing his keys. "I'm going to see her.." He walks to the door before Sam calls out to him. "Use protection!" He teases, Colby grins. "She likes it raw." Colby counters, Sam makes a gagging noise. "Gross, man...I didn't need to know that.." Sam mumbles as Colby leaves to his car.

Colbys drive was quiet, his hands sweaty as he grips the steering wheel, his breath shaky as he pulls into the parking lot of your apartment. He steps out, picking up the flowers he got at the store before driving to your apartment. Colby walks towards to elevator, clicking the button he had multiple times. Walking towards the door he has multiple times. Knocking three times. Preparing for you to open the door. The first thought that came to his mind when you did was

How he forgot how beautiful you are.

You stare at him in shock, and maybe a little pent up anger. "Colby? What the hell are you doing here?" Colby just stares, until he eventually gathering himself. "I-I wanted to apologise..in person. Not like a coward online." His voice is shaky, something you've never seen happen to Colby. He's usually so confident. Not nervous. Like he's confessing to his crush in middle school. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I realize now how much of a dick I was to you. You deserved better. You still deserve better. I never had a serious relationship, one I was monogamous in. That's not an excuse for how shitty I treated you. You don't have to forgive me, but I love you, and want to try again. I under-"

Colbys cut off by your lips pressed against his, his eyes widen before he kissed you back, this wasn't like your usually rough and sloppy kiss with him, he's gentle, loving. He sets the flowers down and pulls your body against his, you pull him in your apartment and he kicks the door closed. He picks you and carries you to your room. Something he's down multiple times, but this is different. Colby gently lays you on your bed, kissing and nipping at your neck.

You watch as he slowly removes your clothes, kissing every inch of your exposed skin. Colby runs his cold hands down your side, you shiver as you gets goosebumps, he chuckles and kissing your forehead softly. "Sorry, darling.." He looks at you, noticing how impatient you look, he smiles and settles between your legs, kitten licking your thighs, moving towards your heat, before, finally, he drags his tongue down your eager cunt.

You moan, Colbys eyes on yours as he continues licking at your pussy, sucking at your clit, lapping your juices like it's his favourite meal. His cock strains against his pants as he hears your moans and whimpers, he speeds up his movements. Colby notices your moans become needy and he smiles. "Cum on my tongue, love. Wan' to taste how good I make you feel." He mumbled into your cunt, and at his words, your body shudders with your orgasm, which he eagerly laps up. Colby slowly comes to a stop, he stands up and takes off his clothes before settling into missionary.

"You want this?" He looks at you, making sure you're okay. You nod quickly, he smiles, but wants to be sure. "I need words, baby." He kisses the corner of your mouth. "Please Colby...I need you.." Your voice barely above a whisper, he kisses you as he slowly pushes his cock into your cunt, you gasp, you forgot how big he was. Colby bottoms out, not moving until you tell him he can, once you nod, he slowly starts thrusting, the thrusts deep and deliberate, you look at him as you realize..

He's making love to you.

Colby Brock, who would usually fuck like a dog, thinking with just his dick, is thinking with his heart and head. He's not being rough. You like this. "So good, sweetheart. You feel so good." You felt that coil in your stomach at his words, you look at him, your eyes needy. "Colby I'm going to cum.." You moan, he kisses your neck and thrusts faster, his hands lazily playing with your tits. "Me too, darling." Colby groans and kisses you as he feels you clench around his cock, he's thrusts become a little sloppy as he fills your pussy with his cum, you finish just after he does.

He pulls out and stands up, throwing his boxers on before walking out of the room, you watch in shock, thinking he was just going to leave. Until he comes back with a damp cloth, a few snacks and some water, he cleans you up gently, like he's afraid he'll break you, he puts his shirt on you, finding a pair of his boxers you "accidentally" kept to slip them on you. before setting the snacks in front of you. "Thought you were tired, so we'll shower in the morning. But thought we could watch a show, eat snacks and sleep." Colby kisses your lips softly, cuddling you.

"Can we watch Brooklyn nine nine?" You ask, he smiles. "Of course we can. I'm still sorry for being a dick." Colby cuddle closer to you. "I'm not going to say its fine, cause it's not, but just work on it. I forgive you." You smile.

You two talk a little, watch the show and eat snacks, before you fall asleep on his chest, he smiles and takes a picture. He posts it on Instagram with the caption "My girl."

Which gets thousands, maybe millions of likes and comments saying how happy they are for him. Colby smiles and kisses your forehead before letting sleep take him.

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

Finally got part two done! Hope you enjoy it! Let me know if you have any feedback, and feel free to leave requests!

-★⋆Dani⋆★-

#colby brock #colby x reader #daniyummy #sam golbach #sam and colby #colby brock smut #colby brock angst

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bluesadansey · 6 months

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re: that old cc post about Tessa and slut shaming i rbed earlier, on a related subject I love Jem he ranks high on the ~male chars S has a soft spot for~ scale/list, but honestly DEATH to anyone (straight women who read tid what I would call the “the wrong way”) who looks at Jem and gushes over how perfect and flawless he is and that makes him great and then complains about Tessa being a bad character because she “doesn’t have a personality outside of liking books” (skull emoji knife emoji etc.) while also criticizing her for having complex feelings for both Will and Jem and reacting to them differently than you want your ideal self insert to like… gurl do you Hear yourself the transparency

#(and then a counter point on the reading thing: so do you think Will has a personality outside of liking books explain to me the differenc…)#prev.gothictessa #s speaks #sometimes I hate that straight women like the same things I do and bad tid opinions bring that sentiment out for me #tid #tsc #tessa gray #jem carstairs #will herondale #think this should be obvious but do not have a ship war on my post about fandom misogyny I am herongraystairs4life also #and I’ve seen bad faith misogynistic takes from Will/Wessa stans too in the past I was just getting mad about this specifically today #fandom wank #and re: Jem as perfect I also don’t think that’s totally true (which is good) but that’s a separate post #I’ll say this I love his character and I also think theirs more depth/flaws than most are willing to see. I also would not defend him as #being one of the most complexly rendered chars (he’s the Tara Maclay I love them in a similar way/could have basically said that about her)

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rainingmbappe · 2 months

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The rise of "let people enjoy things" is single handedly the backbone of the rise of anti intellectualism

#i need to talk about this #disclaimer : im beyond terrible at putting my point across #so with that being said let me attempt at it #let's take look at the hate and misogyny women receive for liking a certain genre of books #that is so often simply countered with let people enjoy things #but we cannot let that narrative take over a whole as if critical thinking is “bad”?#booktok has made it so that disliking a popular books makes you the person with the superiority complex who should just let people enjoy-#-things #but when did criticizing actively target audiences who like that peice of literature? When did that become the narrative?#its all mindless consumption without a second thought to the actual material which can easily be credited to the tropification of books #the enemies do turn into lovers and the best friends do fall in love 10 years down the line #classifying books into tropes and then fulfilling that promise gives books an illusion of being “good” since it checks those boxes-#-that the reader picked up the book for in the first place #the act of reading has kind of been substituted by the act of being a reader and just owning stacks of books #we have turned away from any form of analysis or criticism #if it scratches the itch then its automatically the perfect book without further thought #i cant help but contribute the mere existence of that “itch” to how mordern books are classified into tropes with set plotlines #intelligenctualism is almost always looked at as elitism #reading only classics doesn't make you an intellectual individual but looking at any book with a critical lens may it be a classic or a rom #-com does #criticizing certain aspects of your absolute favorite books is intellectualism and not bullying people who like anything but classics #that distinction is so far lost in translation that talking about how a popular book is objectively bad is being a “hater”#well then im a hater #this is not a hate post for people who actively enjoy booktock or the more popular books #im just trying to introduce any amount of nuance into the conversation thats all #i can honestly go on forever but i think ill end my ranting here #literary criticism #literature #books #anti intellectualism

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swordcoasts · 2 years

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#i'm so. frustrated with a friend #every time i share something positive (like stuff i've learned in therapy that's been making me feel less shit abt myself or today the #masters acceptance thing)#she just counters it with some variety of 'wow good for you it's such a shame im such a useless piece of shit and would be better off dead'#and like. firstly not everything HAS to be about you this is so fucking. rude. idk. i don't expect confetti and celebrations but you could #at least pretend you care about other people lmao #secondly everyone around her (including HER OWN THERAPIST) has been telling her that negative self talk is a self fulfilling prophecy and #she could at least TRY to work on it but she's just not willing to even try #idk i'm so tired of this constant barrage of 'woe is me AND ONLY ME'#don't get me wrong i know mental illness isn't cured by just 'thinking positively' or w/e but there comes a point at which you need to be #willing to do SOMETHING. ANYTHING AT ALL to get better #ok i needed to get this rant out of my system thank u if u read through this jumbled mess ily #misc #dee.txt

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iamthedukeofurl · 6 months

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Scott Pilgrim is, I think, the best example I can think of for establishing a setting's Nonsense Limit. The setting's Nonsense Limit isn't quite "How high-fantasy is this". It's mostly a question of presentation, to what degree does the audience feel that they know the rules the world operates by, such that they are primed to accept a random new element being introduced. A setting with a Nonsense Limit of 0 is, like, an everyday story. Something larger than life, but theoretically taking place in our world, like your standard spy thriller action movie has a limit of 1. Some sort of hidden world urban fantasy with wizards and stuff operating in secret has a nonsense limit around 3 or 4. A Superhero setting, presenting an alternate version of our world, is a 5 or 6. High fantasy comes in around a 7 or so, "Oh yeah, Wizards exist and they can do crazy stuff" is pretty commonly accepted. Scott Pilgrim comes in at a 10. If you read the Scott Pilgrim book, it starts off looking like a purely mundane slice of life. The first hint at the fantastical is Ramona appearing repeatedly in Scott's Dreams, and then later showing up in real life. When we finally get an explanation, it's this:

Apparently Subspace Highways are a thing? And they go through people's heads? And Ramona treats this like it's obscure, but not secret knowledge. Ramona doesn't think she's doing anything weird here. At this point, it's not clear if Scott is accepting Ramona's explanation or not, things kind of move on as mundane as ever until their Date, when Ramona takes Scott through subspace, and he doesn't act like his world was just blown open or anything, although I guess that could have been a metaphor. there's a couple other moments, but everything with Ramona could be a metaphor, or Scott not recognizing what's going on. Maybe Ramona is uniquely fantastical in this otherwise normal world. And then, this happens

Suddenly, a fantastical element (A shitty local indie band finishing their set with a song that knocks out most of the audience) is introduced unrelated to Ramona, and undeniably literal. We see the crowd knocked out by Crash and The Boys. but the story doesn't linger on the implications of that, the whole point of that sequence is to raise the Nonsense Level, such that you accept it when This happens

Matthew Patel comes flying down onto the stage, Scott, who until this point is presented as a terrible person and a loser, but otherwise is extremely ordinary, proceeds to flawlessly block and counter him before doing a 64-hit air juggle combo. Scott's friends treat this like Scott is showing off a mildly interesting party trick, like being really good at darts. The establish that Scott is the "Best Fighter in the Province", not only are street-fighter battles a thing, Scott is Very Good at it, but they're so unimportant that being the best fighter in the province doesn't make Scott NOT a loser. So when Matthew Patel shows off his magic powers and then explodes into a pile of coins, we've established "Oh, this is how silly the setting gets". It's not about establishing the RULES of the setting so much as it is about establishing a lack of rules. Scott's skill at street-fighter battles doesn't translate to any sort of social prestige. Ramona can access Subspace Highways and she uses it to do a basic delivery job. It doesn't make sense and it's clear that it's not supposed to. So later on, when Todd Ingram starts throwing around telekinesis, and the explanation we're given is "He's a Vegan" , you're already so primed by the mixture of weirdness and mundanity that rather than trying to incorporate this new knowledge into any sort of coherent setting ruleset, you just go "Ah, yeah, Vegans".

#Scott Pilgrim

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sinner-as-saint · 3 months

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stuck with you

Bucky x Reader au

Run-through: Alone, cold, and stranded in the middle of a small town on top of a mountain. Not the most ideal situation to be in when the weather starts getting bad. No motels or inns have room for you so the locals suggest you reach out to a man named Bucky Barnes for shelter. Apparently, Bucky is known to always help stranded people, or lost hikers. No matter how weird it feels to drive up to a stranger’s house and ask for help, you have on other choice but to do just that. The plan was simple: stay with the strange, kind man for a couple of days until the snowstorm passes. But then you meet him and you find yourself unable to stick to the plan.

Themes: age gap (reader is in her twenties, Bucky is in his early forties), strangers-to-lovers ish, smut, slight degrading kink, fluff

It felt like the start of a horror movie.

Unknown town, unknown people. You cursed yourself as you walked out of yet another motel who had no room left for you.

What the hell were you thinking? After uni, you thought travelling the world on your own would help you with learning the right lessons, having the right experiences, and all that before you joined the family business and began working with your parents for the rest of your life.

Instead of having fun though, here you were. Stuck on top of an icy mountain, in a small town, and nowhere to sleep for the night. With the snowstorm approaching, you had to find shelter quickly. But none of these motels or inns were free. Every hiker, skier, and tourist had already booked ahead of you apparently.

“Uh, miss?” A voice called from behind you right as you were about to step outside into the cold evening.

You turned to look and it was the owner of the motel. The same man who had just turned you down because he had no space left to accommodate you. He looked apologetic as he approached you.

“Hi.” You said, then patted your pockets quickly, “Did I forget anything on the counter?”

“No.” The man smiled and shook his head. “Look, I’m sorry you can’t stay. But snowstorms in this area can be dangerous and deadly, and you wouldn’t survive the night if you slept in your car.” He pointed at the rented jeep you had parked right outside the motel. “But there’s a man who can help. His name’s Bucky. Bucky Barnes. He often helps out stranded hikers and stuff, and I already called him and asked if he had room and he said yes.”

The motel owner proceeded to give you details about Bucky and how to get to his house. From what you’d just learnt, Bucky Barnes was a business mogul who preferred seclusion. He was wealthy, and lived alone in his luxurious cabin that, rumour has it, he built himself. He was in his early forties and had people running his businesses for him all over the world. He moved to this small town after living in lavish cities his entire life. He owned acres upon acres of land, so he was also the local lumberjack and spent his time manually taking down trees whenever anyone needed wood.

“Don’t worry, miss,” The motel owner reassured you, with a kind smile. “Mr. Barnes is a nice guy. Everyone around here knows him. Just follow the directions I gave you and you’ll find his house not too far from here. It’s a wooden behemoth right on the edge of the forest.”

When you got back in your car, the first thing you did was google the man really quickly. And the headlines, as you scrolled and read them, made your eyes widen a little each time. They were all basically just about what the motel owner already told you. But you needed to make sure it was all real.

It was. Bucky Barnes was indeed a filthy rich business mogul who chose to come live all the way up here to get away from busy cities and journalists who always followed him around for quotes to put into their articles.

And then, you began searching for pictures of this man. Your heart skipped a beat upon finding them. Pictures of him at fancy dinner parties, galas, charity events. Pictures of him shaking hands and clinking glasses with famous faces. Pictures of him on business magazine covers.

Pretty blue eyes, handsome face, and a kind smile. You noted the crinkles by his eyes whenever he smiled or laughed in pictures. Whenever he was photographed with a group of people, everyone seemed charmed by him. He seemed tall too. Oh well, safe to say the man was drop dead gorgeous.

What if he was a serial killer and the people in this town directed victims to his house like he was some kind of twisted leader of this town?

You cringed at the exaggerated thought, shaking your head.

Usually you weren’t one to trust strangers quickly but it was getting darker, the wind was beginning to howl and the cold was making you shiver even beneath all the layers you were wearing. The snowstorm was expected to last at least three days, so it was either trust a stranger for a few days or die.

—

You stopped your car in front of what the motel owner called a ‘wooden behemoth right on the edge of the forest’. And he was right.

The luxurious log home was situated higher up on the mountain, looking over the small town. Surrounded by towering trees, mainly pine, and the area around the house was foggier than the rest of the town. It would’ve seemed eerie if it weren’t for the warm, golden lights coming from inside the house.

The house was indeed massive, with intricate carvings on the huge front doors. The roof was covered with dark, polished slate, and what gave the home a more contemporary touch were the large, floor-to-ceiling windows. It looked like the perfect place for someone who sought seclusion and comfort.

Or a murderer, your brain added. You hissed at the thought, shoving it away as you got out of your jeep. It was beginning to drizzle, the wind howling louder than earlier. You walked up the front porch and knocked on the large doors.

Before you could check out the porch, you heard loud footsteps approaching. Then, the front door opened. And on the other side stood a handsome man, slightly different from how he looked in the photographs you’d found online, but just as gorgeous. Well, the photographs were all taken from years ago so it made sense that he looked different. Bucky Barnes hadn’t been photographed ever since he moved here, according to the articles, and it was a shame because he was truly a work of art.

“Hey,” He said with a deep, confident voice. “You must be the girl I just received a call about from the motel.” He opened the door wider. And for a couple of seconds, you didn’t move.

You were frozen in place. He was… too pretty. That same handsome face as in the photographs, except he had more facial hair now. And longer hair. So long in fact that he had to put it all up in a messy bun on top of his head. A few strands escaped the bun and fell on either side of his face, making him look beautiful in a rugged way.

You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander for just a second. He was just as tall as you imagine, but slightly more muscular than he seemed in the pictures. The white t-shirt he was wearing clung to him like a second skin, the jeans clung to his thighs in a way that should be illegal.

You quickly looked up and cleared your throat before you got caught ogling. “Um, hi Mr. Barnes. I’m sorry for–,”

He cut you off politely, “There’s no need to apologise,” He signalled for you to come in. And as you walked into his home he said, “And please, call me Bucky.”

You smiled at him as you stood near the entrance, waiting for him to shut the door. When he turned to you, he asked for your name and asked what you were doing here. While you answered, he led you further into the magnificent house.

If you thought it was beautiful from the outside, the interior was absolutely breathtaking. Spacious, with high ceilings. Most things inside were wooden, except for the rugs and the plush sofas. It was an open concept, and you could see the more farm-style kitchen from the living room area and it was just as pretty as the rest of the house. The more you looked around, the more you fell in love with the interior. Elegant curved staircase which led upstairs, massive fireplace, accents of stone and metals everywhere. It looked like a lot of thought went into building this home.

“This looks like a dream.” You commented, standing in the middle of the living room and taking it all in. The owner looks like a dream too. You sighed at the sound of your inner thoughts. It was true.

Bucky smiled, looking proud. “It took some years to build but…” He sighed, “It’s worth it.”

You smiled at him, noticing the crinkles by his eyes as he smiled. Fuck, this man was beautiful.

“Give me your keys, I’ll bring your bags in, then I can show you to your room.” He extended his hand out, waiting for you to drop your keys into his palm.

“Oh.” Your face got all hot when you realised you’d just walked into his home empty handed. You’d forgotten your bags in the jeep. “I can go get it, it’s–,”

“No, I’ll get it,” He cut you off again, stepped closer and took the keys from your hand. “It’s getting bad out there.” Then he walked away.

And you shamelessly watched him leave. His back muscles moved and shifted under the tight shirt as he walked and you felt a shiver travel down your spine. Think about how those warm, hard muscles would feel under your fingertips…

Shit. This man was being kind to you and here you were being a pervert.

–

Bucky brought your bags in, all four of them. Carried them through the front door like they weren’t heavy at all. Well, he cuts down trees for fun so maybe he’s used to carrying heavier things.

He showed you to one of the many guest bedrooms he had. And the room was just as beautiful and perfect as the rest of the home. King-sized bed, large chest drawer, private bathroom which was fully stocked with toiletries. Large windows, and a small balcony which overlooked the dense forest outside.

“Well then, I’ll leave you to unpack and make yourself comfortable. Dinner will be ready in an hour or so. See you downstairs.” He left with yet another smile which made your heart skip a beat.

–

You found yourself making your way downstairs after a long, warm shower. You wanted to unpack after your shower but then the smell of dinner cooking forced you out of the room. You followed the delicious scent of what seemed like pasta sauce, sniffing the air quietly until you made your way into the gorgeous kitchen. With an even more gorgeous man in it.

“There you are,” Bucky smiled at you as you approached the large kitchen island which was also the dining table. “Everything okay with your room?” He asked, stirring some kind of sauce in a pan before resuming chopping some other thing. He looked so comfortable in his kitchen, it was endearing.

“Yeah, everything’s good.” You answered, lingering by the kitchen counter awkwardly, “You need help with something?”

“Sure, if you want.” Bucky nodded and pointed at the other side of the kitchen with his knife, and said, “Can you be a doll and grab us a red wine from the cellar?”

You froze for a quick second at the sound of ‘doll’. It was sweet, but the way it sounded from his deep, smooth voice… you cleared your throat again before your thoughts got inappropriate, turning around and heading for the cellar because of course he had a wine cellar.

After grabbing what you hoped was a nice wine, you made your way back to the kitchen and found Bucky plating pasta into two plates. He had a slight frown on his face as he focused on the plates. If there was anything you had noticed about Bucky it was that he was very detail oriented.

Bucky’s frown disappeared the moment he looked up from the plates and saw you standing there. “Hope you like pasta and cheese.” He winked with a maddeningly handsome smile.

“I do.” You smiled back, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach as you handed him the wax sealed bottle of wine. For a brief moment, his hand brushed against yours and you could’ve sworn it felt like you’d been electrocuted.

A strange shiver danced down your spine as you took a seat at the table and watched Bucky break the seal, uncork the bottle and pour it into two glasses before pouring the rest into a large decanter.

All that wood chopping did him good. The man was muscular in all the right places. But his hands… oh his hands. Large, veiny. Imagine those hands all over–

“So, tell me about yourself.” He said, taking a seat across from you. “And what are you doing on this icy mountain?”

The conversation flowed perfectly. You told Bucky about how you were travelling to all the places you wanted to see before you moved back home, and he told you all about his life here. He said he liked the peace and quiet. Even the snowstorms, he grew to love them.

By the time your plates and the decanter were empty, the two of you were laughing and exchanging life stories like you were old friends catching up.

“So wait,” You chuckled, “You built this entire place out of spite?”

Bucky nodded, laughing as well. “Well, I guess. My friend Sam came to visit when I told him I bought some land out here and he said ‘Well what are you gonna do here, Buck? You can’t just build a house in the middle of nowhere and become a lumberjack providing wood to the locals.’ and I thought, ‘Wait, that’s not a bad idea’, then I did exactly what Sam said.”

You laughed, the wine made everything funnier. Bucky’s cheeks were now pink, his lips stained due to the wine and you couldn’t look away from him. Fuck, he really was gorgeous. He must have changed before dinner because he was no longer wearing that tight white shirt. He was wearing loose, beige coloured loungewear and looked just as mouth-watering. His hair was just as messy, but made him look effortlessly handsome.

You eye-fucked him so more before realising that he was checking you out too, and neither of you had said a word for the past minute or two. But it wasn’t awkward. His blue eyes stared into yours and you were suddenly too aware of the thick tension in the air.

The way he licked his lips, the way he toyed with the stem of his wine glass, the way his hand–

Bucky cleared his throat and looked away first. You tried to blink away the tension too but it remained. Then Bucky asked, “So, you have a boyfriend or something waiting for you at home?” He gave you a playful smirk.

Oh?

You shook your head, “Nope. What about you? You came all the way here to live in seclusion, are you running from an ex or something?”

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. “No, nothing like that.”

That tension came back again, filling the air like smoke. You couldn’t ignore it. Neither could he, given how he fidgeted in his seat.

This is wrong. Isn’t it?

He was being kind enough to offer you shelter and you were being inappropriate. So before you did something you might regret, you said, “It’s late. I should head to bed. I drove all day and…” You trailed off, looking away and avoiding his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah of course.” He said quickly, getting up from his seat. He went to reach for your plate but you grabbed it first.

“Oh I’ll load up the dishwasher, don’t worry.” You moved before he could stop you, grabbing your plate and then his. Then the wine glasses and everything else.

You could feel Bucky’s eyes on you as you carefully arranged everything in the rack before turning it on. You washed your hands, and wiped it on a tea towel while turning to leave but Bucky’s heated stare stopped you.

There he was, leaning against the kitchen island and looking even more yummy than the dinner he made. You were glad you had the tea towel in your hands otherwise you wouldn’t know what to do.

Luckily Bucky spoke up first, “If I had known you were coming I would’ve made dessert.”

Such a simple sentence yet it sounded like he’d whispered some dirty, filthy secret in your ear the way your body came alive. You refrained from clenching your thighs together. His voice was lower, deeper but just as smooth and it was driving you crazy just imagining how this man must sound in bed.

And now you were jealous of all the people who had had the chance of hearing what he sounded like, moaning and grunting, whispering out of breath… fuck.

“Uh…” You struggled to find your words, now that the image of him naked in bed wouldn’t leave your head, “That’s alright. I don’t have much of a sweet tooth anyway.”

You didn’t know when you moved, but you found yourself standing closer to Bucky now. He turned to face you completely and there were mere inches between your bodies. You felt… hot. Maybe it was the wine, but you were almost certain it was because of the way Bucky looked at you. Like he’d devour you if he could. You had sensed tension between you and other people before, but it had never been this strong.

“Shame,” He muttered under his breath, his hand coming up to gently touch your face. “I happen to like something sweet before bed.” His voice dropped to a whisper.

All you could focus on was the way he was touching your face. Gently, like you were made of glass. His hand was warm, but rough. You let out a shaky breath as you wondered how his rough hands would feel all over you–

“Go to bed.” He said in a voice that made you tingle all over. He didn’t let go of your face. His thumb caressing your cheek, and his eyes staring into your soul.

You blinked, wondering if you misheard. “What?” You asked softly, leaning into his touch subtly, obviously not wanting to move.

“Go to bed, doll.” He repeated, still not letting go of your face.

You frowned slightly, “But–,”

He cut you off by placing a gentle finger over your lips. His eyes couldn’t look away from where his finger touched your mouth. He leaned in a little, then said, “We shouldn’t.”

“Why not?” You asked, lips brushing against his finger as you spoke.

He gave you a soft smile and said, “I should be a good host, not seduce you.”

You shrugged, “Well I’m nice and seduced, now what do we do?”

He chuckled, leaning in until his nose brushed against the side of your neck. His simple touches were driving you crazy.

“You know what happens when there’s a snowstorm in this town, doll? It lasts for days,” He whispered, lazily kissing your neck. “And by the time that’s over, the roads are completely blocked. And this is a small town so it takes a while before the roads are functional again.”

Your heart fluttered, your body felt too hot and yet you shivered. You gently pulled away to look at him. “So you’re saying I’m stuck with you here for days?” You couldn’t help the smirk on your face.

He caught the hopeful tone in your voice. Bucky nodded. “And if I touch you right now,” He whispered, cupping your face in his large, rough hands, “I’m not sure I’ll let you leave my bed at all for the next coming days.”

It was risky because as beautiful as he was, you didn’t know Bucky. But you had never wanted someone this much before. This felt like a new kind of longing and need. You didn’t care what was right, ethical, or risky. “Then don’t.”

That did it.

Bucky stopped thinking why he shouldn’t and instead pressed his lips to yours, kissing you like he was tasting his favourite dessert. His tongue easing your own as he tasted you leisurely. “We’re sure about this?” He asked, breathlessly.

“Yes,” You whispered against his mouth, gasping as his hands trailed up and down your body, sliding under your sweater and fondling your breasts. “We are.”

Bucky smiled into the kiss, then spoke again. “Aren’t I too old for you, doll?”

You chuckled, your own hands wandering and sliding up and down his muscular back. You wanted nothing more than to just take off that comfy hoodie he was wearing. “Oh, what’s a decade or two?” You murmured.

Bucky’s hands dropped down to your waist, caressing your skin, fingers threatening to slip past the waistband of your sweatpants. You had to bite your lip to keep yourself from moaning too loudly. The storm was picking up outside and it would surely drown out all your cries, not that there were any neighbours to hear to begin with.

“Will you be good for me?” He whispered, kissing down your face as his fingers slowly dipped into your sweatpants. One hand held you at the waist while the other inched dangerously close to where you craved him the most.

His touch, his words, it was all too much. “I’ll be good,” You replied, your hands sliding under his hoodie to finally touch him, exploring and curious. His body was incredible to the touch, hard muscles and warm skin.

He finally slipped his hand into your underwear, hissing as he found you dripping wet. He chuckled against your skin as he kissed and licked your throat, “How long have you been this wet, doll?” He asked, sounding cocky.

You gasped when you felt him sliding a finger inside you, gently. “Since you opened the front door.” You answered honestly.

Bucky laughed, his warm breath tickling your ear. “That long, huh? I’m sorry.” He cooed, “Let me take care of it for you.”

You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your mouth when you felt him slide another finger inside you, fucking you slowly with both now. Bucky kissed your neck, your face, your mouth. Licking and biting your skin as he pleased while he finger-fucked you until you were right on the edge.

“Get up here.” He murmured, pulling his fingers and hand away and pointed at the kitchen island.

You didn’t move immediately. Probably because your brain was all foggy from his kisses and his touch that it took a second for you to register and process his words.

Bucky smirked and repeated. “Come on. Take your clothes off and get up here.”

You did as he asked. Taking off your sweater and sweatpants, followed by your underwear and revealing your bare body. Bucky took a second, letting his fingers trail up and down your stomach and chest before he pointed at the island again.

“Up.”

You hopped on the edge with a giggle, hissing upon feeling the cold surface against your warm skin. Once sat on the edge, you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer. Bucky smiled as he placed his hands on you again, your arms wrapping around his neck as you stared into his ocean blue eyes.

“Such a pretty doll,” He whispered, placing his hands on your thighs and spreading them further apart. He looked down at your wet folds, mindlessly dragging a finger up and down your slit, making you shiver all over again. “Now, lie down.” He said.

You wasted no time. You unwrapped your arms from around him and carefully laid down flat on your back, hissing at the cold again.

Bucky’s eyes trailed up and down your body, his hands caressing your skin. From your thighs, to your hips, to your breasts where he pinched your nipples, making you cry out again.

“Can I taste you, doll?” He asked, pulling your legs up to the edge and spreading your thighs as far apart as they would go. The island was high enough where he only had to bend down for his mouth to touch your heated skin. Lips brushing against your lower abdomen, he asked again, “Can I?”

Your brain was a mess. Yet you managed to mumble a firm, “Yes…”

With his mouth mere inches away from your throbbing clit, he said, “Keep your legs up just like that for me, okay?”

You nodded, looking down in between your legs as he leaned in and pressed his mouth against your wetness. He looked up immediately, holding your stare as he slid his tongue against, the roughness of his beard against your softness was driving you insane.

You held yourself up on your elbows as you watched him eat you out. The warmth of his mouth, the slow caress of his hands against your inner thighs, the intense look in his eyes as he tasted you. It made you feel like you were floating.

It was too much, it was not enough. You wanted him, you wanted more.

“You taste sweeter than any dessert, doll.” He whispered, kissing around your wet clit before sucking on it hard enough to make you come, your back arched off the surface, riding his face as you cried out in pleasure. “But it’s not enough.” He admitted, pulling away and kissing his way up your body. “Is it?”

You barely caught your breath, your heart racing as you laid there in front of him.

“Get down, and bend over for me.” He spoke in that enchanting voice of his which put you under his spell so easily.

You moved immediately this time. He was still fully dressed and you didn’t have a single article of clothing on and somehow that made you feel hotter.

You bent over the island in front of him, your front pressed against the edge. You placed your hands down and turned to look at him over your shoulder. You watched how he grabbed your hips and spread your legs, leaning closer to kiss up your spine.

“So beautiful,” He whispered against the back of your neck. “Now, are you gonna let me fuck you? Hmm? Are you gonna let me put both of us out of our misery, doll?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

He pulled his hands away from you for a moment, lowering his trousers enough to free his cock. You wished you could see it properly. You wished you could kneel down in front of him and take him into your mouth and–

You gasped out loud when you felt the tip of his hard, warm cock pressing against you. Nothing mattered in that moment, not when he was gently rubbing his cock up and down your wet slit, parting your folds.

You squirmed against the hard surface under you, pushing back into him in need. “Please…” You whispered, desperate for him. You had never been this needy for a man before.

You braced yourself for his thrust, knowing it was coming.

Slowly, Bucky slid inside you, filling you up and stretching you out as he did. He let out a sigh of pleasure once he was seated deep inside you, gripping on your hips tightly as he gave you both a moment to get used to it.

You felt so full, like you’ve never been before. So full, you could barely form a coherent thought. All you knew was you wanted more.

You let out a quiet moan as he started fucking you gently.

“You feel so fucking good,” He hissed, “So warm and tight for me.” Bucky whispered, fucking into you with a pace that made you want to scream and shout because it felt so good.

Each time he filled you up, the tip of his cock brushed against your most sensitive spot and you moaned as your walls clenched around him.

“Poor little doll,” He cooed, “This will be your new routine for the next few days now. Just getting fucked, and caressed all the time while the storm rages on outside.”

His thrusts got harder. Your moans got louder. His words made you clench around him even more.

“Look at you,” He growled. “Pretty girl letting a older man she barely knows fuck her like she’s a needy little whore.” His voice was deeper, and as menacing as his words were his touch was just as soft and careful. His fingers circled your clit gently while he pounded into you from behind. “Would you bend over for any man, doll? Hmm? Whoever offered you shelter from the storm, is this how you’d repay him? By letting him fuck your needy little cunt?”

You couldn’t help but cry out, moaning in pleasure as his words took you higher. You did have a little bit of a degrading kink, who didn’t? But never had anyone ever hit the spot like Bucky did. And given how your wetness dripped down his fingers, he could tell.

Bucky chuckled darkly. “Does that turn you on, doll? Knowing that I can selfishly take from you now that you’re stuck here with me?” His other hand came up to grab you by the back of your neck as he whispered into your ear, fucking into you hard enough that your body slammed into the kitchen island with each thrust. “Does it turn you on knowing you’ll have to be my little slut for the next few days? That you’ll have to spread those legs for me and let me fuck you whenever I want to?”

“Yes…” You whimpered as he pounded deeper into you. You didn’t want him to stop. Ever.

He hissed into your ear, “Is that what you are now? My little slut?” He chuckled, rolling his hips in a way that had you whimpering and squirming in pleasure beneath him. “Well, what a perfect way of repaying me for my kindness, hmm?”

“Please, Bucky…” You whimpered.

Bucky hummed, kissing your warm skin, “I know, pretty girl. I know, it feels good, doesn’t it?”

His words made you feel feverish, and wild. Lust-drunk more than ever. You moaned as he sped up again, a familiar warmth taking over you, and a pressure building in between your hips.

You whined, “I’m gonna come.” You cried, and you were pretty sure you had tears streaming down your face.

“Come for me, then. Come all over my cock, doll.”

Your brain was a foggy mess after that. You came hard though, clenching around him violently as you did.

“Fuck… look at you,” He whispered, his cock pounding harder into you until he came as well, spilling all over your lower back as he panted in exhaustion. “You okay, doll?”

You nodded slowly, pressing your forehead down against the cool surface and catching your breath.

“Come on,” His voice was softer now as he pulled you up and held you against him. Your back to his chest as he wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling your neck and leaving soft kisses all over your neck and the side of your face. “Let’s get you in bed, yeah?”

You asked in a shaky voice, “And then can we fuck again?”

Bucky chuckled, hugging you tightly before saying, “Yes we can, pretty girl.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine

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bitternanami · 2 months

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something i think is really interesting about dungeon meshi is the cast's respective views on food as the story progresses. the way many adventurers get through the dungeon is to eat when they Must, but mostly rely on healing magic to keep going when they're tired or beaten down. death is something you can buy your way out of, here.

having these lower stakes when it comes to running yourself too hard has made a lot of people in this setting kind of devalue food and what it does for you.

im not all the way through the manga yet, but so far i really like how it goes about debunking that mindset.

long post under the cut, cw explicit discussion of disordered eating. textual depiction of unhealthy methods of dealing with it. please be cautious!

it seems like to most folks, food is either a decadent luxury, like when the governor offers mr tance a feast as a show of power and wealth, (although he is the only one who actually eats in that scene as he talks about his ambitions);

[id: the governor and mr. tance talk politics and hierarchies, while the governor eats from a bowl. mr. tance's meal is not visible behind a speech bubble.

"so you believe the sorceror is an elf?" he asks.

"i can't say with absolute certainty," mr. tance replies, "but the spells are not ones dwarves and humans typically use." /end id]

like the painted-royal feasts laios tries to partake in that never actually nourish him...

[id: laios, fresh out of the living painting feast, surprisedly holding his grumbling stomach /end id]

or, to the working class, it's pretty much exclusively fuel. i'm thinking about the scene where kabru's party, ostensibly intended to be our view into how adventuring Typically goes for most people, is shown preparing to go to the dungeon by like. walking up to someone and ordering 'a weeks' worth of rations.' purely functional.

[id: kabru enters a store, and the merchant says "welcome!"

kabru says "i need a week's worth of rations for six, and two days' worth of water."

"sure thing." the merchant then reaches behind him and grabs a large cube-shaped package, wrapped in nondescript cloth and tied in place. it thumps onto the counter in front of them both. /end id]

when kabru hands mickbell his food for the trip, he complains about how heavy it is on his back. it's a necessary liability.

we also see chilchuck, in an early chapter where there isn't much food to go around, grumbling about how he used to be better at not noticing when he was hungry. he's frustrated that he's more attuned to his bodily needs, now that he's starting to fill them with regularity.

[id: chilchuck, the only one awake, sits in his bedroll and glares at the timekeeping-candle burning down in front of him while he listens to his stomach growl. moving to find his canteen and fill himself with water instead, he thinks to himself, "my stomach has gotten weaker. i used to be able to go two days without food." /end id]

(like im not even gonna lie this is a big mood. the healing process is really really annoying)

even laios, early on, working out the logistics of going back for falin, considers his expenses and ultimately the thing he decides to save money on is their food supply. like, even the guy most invested in eating as an experience kind of just assumes he will Figure It Out. its what hes eating, not how hes eating it that matters to him at that point.

[id: marcille looks down at the ingredients they've gathered, the walking mushroom and the scorpion in an unappetizing heap on the ground, and asks laios "so how exactly do we eat them?"

he responds "let's just cook them, like normal." /end id]

but its here that senshi introduces the idea of food as art and as healing. its exciting and its fascinating for laios, getting to taste the creatures hes been reading about and fighting, but i dont think it would ever really help him feel full if not for this.

[id: three panels of laios tasting the scorpion hotpot, looking stunned, and then excitedly telling senshi "delicious!"

senshi matches his energy, asking "isn't it? isn't it?" /end id]

pictured: guy who had resigned himself to kind of just doing his best rediscovers the joy in something tasting really fucking good

what they did last time isnt going to work. falin is gone, and constantly anesthetizing their pain and healing through their weakness is no longer a realistic option for the party. in order to make it through they must all relearn how to eat well, one by one and as a group over and over again, because its either that or nothing.

one of my favorite depictions of this idea thus far is when marcille is seriously low on health and mana, and both of these problems are mitigated by taking care of herself, and trying to get iron and protein

[id: marcille, looking sickly, wakes to laios saying, "marcille, marcille, can you sit up? we've got something nice for you."

she watches senshi grill pieces of kelpie liver on a low fire, while laios ties a bib around her neck. /end id]

and drinking a bunch of dead water spirits. she gets the idea, she's supposed to get in nutrients and it'll help her feel better, but in aiming for the quick, inefficient fix, namely chugging that shit down like she heard it was good to Stay Hydrated and decided that would be the thing that fixes her,

[id: marcille throws back a cup of boiled undine-water, her face red. laios asks, "do you really need to drink it that fast?"

she gasps out "...the magical energy stored in nature spirits is actually quite hard to absorb. even if you drink a lot, the majority of it is excreted without being absorbed," and takes another drink. "that's why i need to drink as much as i can."

laios says weakly "you'll get water poisoning," but marcille only stops when senshi puts a hand on her shoulder and says,

"it's easier to absorb nutrients if ye digest them with food. that's a fundamental rule of nutrition."

marcille says, "senshi..." contemplative

and he holds out a bowl of tentuclus and a thumbs up. "let's get cooking!" /end id]

she doesn't immediately realize the answer is that she needs more than that. she's been working hard. she needs care, and she needs nourishment.

once she gets that, though, she makes her boiled water into a stew, and she works to make that stew as good as she can, and everyone can have some.

because in dungeon meshi, to feed yourself or allow yourself to be fed is treated as performing a kindness for yourself. food is what propels you, but there is also an art and a joy inherent to the process of making it; in the way you feel when you've had enough to eat.

[id: senshi watches as chilchuck and marcille eat and excitedly hash out plans.

"i've got a good feeling about this! maybe it'll work out!" chilchuck says

marcille responds, "well it's easier to feel optimistic on a full stomach!"

senshi smiles, proud. /end id]

^^^ i want to put this image on my wall

when you're working through disordered eating habits, you really do have to keep learning this shit. (in my experience, learning about cooking is one of the best ways to do so.)

i'll have to see if my thesis holds up as i continue, but i think one of the reasons the portrayal here resonates with me so hard is that ryoko kui puts most of her characters at eye level with me on this. they're all working at it, too. the text and i are both commiserating, and encouraging each other, 'have some more, you'll feel better.'

#its late -_- idk if this fullly gets across what i mean but ive been thinking about this for weeks #dungeon meshi #recovery #cooking tag #disordered eating cw #im on chp 31 atm but im like. squinting and steepling my fingers looking for this theme as i go now

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strawberrymatchawhore · 1 month

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away

toxic bf! rafe cameron x reader

"running away is easy, its the leaving thats hard."

summary- the camerons are in charge of the annual new years party this year, you along other kooks as well as the camerons distant family are invited to the estate to celebrate. you unknowingly strike up a conversation with one of rafes cousins whom he has always been in competition with since childhood, eventually having to deal with the consequences of your jealous boyfriend

warning/s- abusive relationship, slapping, degrading, choking, toxic ass relationship, mean rafe, reader is a crybaby, nutting inside as punishment, barely any aftercare, NON/DUBCON (reader lets him fuck to make him less pissed off) IF ANY OF THIS MAKES U UNCOMFY PLS DONT READ <3, etc.. im backkk pls enjoy and comment as well as repost apologies for being gone for so long lolsies 🙁

3 years ago you never would have pictured yourself where you are today, living in one of the finest estates of the island and dating one of the most popular and sought after members of this community. nor have you ever pictured yourself being in a a relationship where everyday was like stepping on eggshells and yet you never felt the urge to leave. you loved him too much to do so.

putting on silver dangly earrings as the final touch to your new years look, you turn to your boyfriend for approval. only to be met with a disgusted look on his face.

"why are you dressed like that"

"i thought you liked it? you bought it for me last week." you argued, folding your arms.

"yeah but i didn't think you'd wear it to a family event, i mean come on baby you look like a hooker." he pointed at the figure forming dress, your eyebrows furrowed. the dress was a maxi dress and the only thing revealing was the slight cleavage.

"never mind i'll just change" you exhale and quickly turn away to avoid starting an argument, but he grabs your arm and ushers for you to stay.

"you know what, lets go. we're already late." he leaves the room and you silently follow behind him.

.....

you and rafe walk through the door with your arm around his bicep, immediately you felt out of place. no one you knew were here and it was just random rich people. you felt your breathing begin to hitch and it continues to grow as you continue your walk into the kitchen to get drinks.

"i'll be back, stay right here." rafe orders and grabs a beer, leaving you to your thoughts.

"hey" a voice interrupted. you look up and see a tall brunette, someone you've never seen in this small island.

"uhm.. hi" you awkwardly respond back, giving a small smile which he returns.

"sorry did i interrupt? i saw you were by yourself so i thought maybe i should come and chat with you for a bit.. not that im calling you lonely. i mea- shit. im adrian by the way." he rambles and you cant help but laugh and slyly look around for your boyfriend. you know know how he gets when you talk to guys, and this guy seemed awfully familiar.

"no no, youre good. please. i was hoping someone would talk to me, everyones so intimidating here." you took another sip of your drink and lean against the marbled counter. who was this guy?

"i know right?! i thought my cousin was going to show up and greet me to everybody but i guess he's too good for that." he joked

"wow he seems like a handfu-" barely getting the response out, you instantly feel someone luring over you and harshly put their hand on your shoulder.

"what are you doing" you hear your boyfriends harsh voice whisper in your ear.

"oh hey man whats up" adrian says, they dap each other up but you could feel the tention behind it.

"i see youve met my girlfriend." rafes hand grabs your waist, massaging it. his fingers dig into your waist.

"i did, shes been a great chat." adrian responded, your jaw clenches and you bite your tongue. you feel your anxiety come back as you know youre about to dig your own grave.

"yeah she is huh. its getting kinda late though. i think we're gonna head out." before even hearing what adrian was going to say, rafe grabs your hand and starts to drag you outside.

"rafe what are you doing??? we just got here." you struggle to catch up with his long angry strides.

"do you think i give a fuck." you release yourself from his grip but he ends up pushing you up against his truck.

"i don-" his hand squeezes your throat, blocking your airways. it was 11 pm and everybody was inside, no one was seeing this.

"tell me. does it look like it?" he seethes, pushing you harder into the truck. you felt your tears start to form when his yelling is followed by his intense eye contact with you.

"no right? so get the fuck in the car." he opens the passenger seat and shoved you inside, slamming the door. rafe then gets into his seat and speeds off. you could tell by the silence and the way he was gripping the steering wheel that you were fucked.

......

rafe pulls up to the driveway and practically drags you inside, you were too scared to speak up. frightened at how much worst that would make his next moves be. pushing you into the guest bedroom he starts to speak up.

"why are you such a slut, i cant even leave you alone for 5 minutes without you trying to hop on my cousins dick." he scolds you, your body sits at the end of the bed in shame. hunching to make yourself smaller, mentally preparing yourself when you see him taking off his clothes.

"take this shit off." he grabs you and tugs on your dress. but you didnt hear him, you were too busy disassociating yourself away from him and this suffocating ass room.

"what'd i fucking say?" rafe slaps you and instead of giving you the time to take off the dress, he rips it and pins you by the wrists to the bed. he glares down at you before leaning down your neck and inhaling your scent and leaving dark bruises behind.

"i was thinking about fucking you real nice and slow tonight. but after you decided to act like a whore, i'm gonna treat you like one. how's that sound baby." he mocks you and caresses you clothed pussy before pulling them off your legs.

"rafe.." you whine when he uses his buff arms to spread your legs as much as they could go. you start to hyperventilate from his threat, and cover your face so you don't have to watch him violate you. his thumb rubs at your clit, and the other hand starts to stroke his cock. the tip showing how angry he truly was.

without a warning your boyfriend slams into your pussy, barley wet and prepped. you weren't adjusted to the size of him.

"ow fuck!" you squealed and immediately tried to seek comfort by grabbing onto rafe's bicep, this only seemed to piss him off more and he pulled out and flipped you onto your stomach.

"you're not allowed to touch me. just lay there and be a good fuck toy for me to use." he gives your ass a hard before forcing his way back into you, the burn and lack of proper lubrication makes you shoot up again but he didn't let you move an inch. this sort of roughness was familiar, yet every time it never fails to terrify you.

"stay the fuck down." his large hand pushes down on the middle of your back, naturally putting you into a face down ass up position. just the way he liked it. your body shakes and trembles in fear when your boyfriends thrusts get harder.

"rafe please it hurts so bad i cant take it" you sobs getting louder, rafe lowers himself closer to you and grabs your throat cutting off your breathing.

"your pussys sucking me right in angel, i think you can." he sneered, your crying and begging seemed to anticipate him even further as he loses all his restraint. you knew you couldn't stop him. its just the way your relationship worked.

he would get mad and then take his anger out on you, and youd let him. why? because you know what he's capable of, the holes displayed throughout your guys bedroom were everyday reminders to not push him too far. but in a way, it made you feel safe and wanted. rafe would do anything to protect you and keep you away from the dangers of the outside world.

"you're starting to get wet shitttt" rafe moaned and releases your throat, both his hands grab onto your hips for leverage as he speeds up his pace hitting the good spots deep inside you. not caring about how there was going to be fingermark bruises later. you hiccup as you try to control the sounds of your crying, using a pillow as comfort while he ruins you from behind.

inevitably your stomach starts to tighten and you feel yourself about to cum, your boyfriend moves one of his hands to your hair and tugs on it. resulting in a moan from you, the other hand moves down to your clit and rubs circles.

"you gonna cum baby? cum on my dick." he orders, he was fucking you so hard and greedily that the sounds of his thrusts and skin colliding were echoing in the room. your body caved into the sensations and you felt yourself fall apart on him.

"thats it squirt all over it, make a fucking mess for me. god you're such a little slut." he coos. the overstimulation of his cock hitting your cervix over and over again made you fucked out to the point of of passing out.

"so fucking tight" his vulgar words fill your ears, he gives your pussy rough slaps and you push against him. you yelped in surprise, eyes widening when you notice that rafes thrusts started to get sloppier.

"no.. no rafe! rafe you cant, we cant!" you protested in between moans, he only laughed in response. trying to push yourself away from him but he easily overpowered you. grabbing both of your arms and pinning them behind your back.

"dont tell me what to do, you did this to yourself." he breathes heavily as he filled you to the brim with him cum, he stayed there for a moment fucking it in as deep as he could before pulling out. enjoying the view of your pretty pussy sucking him right in. your eyes squinted in disgust when you felt his seed slide down your thighs.

rafe got up to clean himself but left you lying on the bed, you definitely werent walk right now and you were so overwhelmed with everything that happened. your conscious couldnt take anymore and your eyes starting tearing up.

"why are you crying." he sat on the edge of the bed and examined your state cluelessly. he scooted closer to you and opened the drawer next to the bed and grabbed a towel, cleaning you with it. you both sat in silence until rafe decided to pick you up and make his way to your actual bedroom.

"youre so mean to me.. you know that." you sniffle into his hard chest and draw circles on it with your finger. he doesn't respond but you know he heard it because he gave you a light squeeze before laying you down on the large bed. he takes his place next to you and turns away from you.

you sigh and turn to face his back, engulfing him in a hug. rafe initially tenses up but then relaxed in your arms. slowly you begin to knock out but before you do, you were sure you heard a brief

"im sorry" from rafe.

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hs-is-loml · 1 year

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Don't Make Me Say It Again. (x.t)

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x Fem!Addams!Reader

Summary: blurb! xavier is close to snapping when you don't realize what he has been hinting.

Warnings: mutual pining, fluff

a/n: okay, another one before i go torture myself in actually reading my textbook that i haven't picked up in weeks.

masterlist

“Shouldn’t you be with your sister?” Xavier questioned as you tied on your apron.

“No, she wanted to work at pilgrim world for some odd reason. I would rather die than dress up as a colonist,” you informed the boy.

“That doesn’t surprise me.”

“Hey, Y/N! Need a hand?” Tyler called out from behind the counter as you and Xavier cleaned the tables.

“Already got one,” you replied back pointing to Thing wiping the table.

“I thought I told you and your sister that he was bad news,” Xavier whispered to you as he reached over to grab a mug on your side of the table.

“Twice actually, but I couldn’t care less about him. Wait. Enlighten me,” you turned to face him.

That was when you noticed how close you two actually were. Though you were standing around a foot away from each other, it was concerning how he seemed to step closer to talk.

“It happened last Outreach Day. I was working on a mural for the town then he and his friends come up and start attacking me. They destroyed the mural and left me with bruised ribs. People like him don’t like people like us,” he explained.

“Hm.”

“It’s not like you would care anyways, right?” Xavier scoffed walking off to the next table.

“It seems like he’s changed, quiter softer now, which is disappointing,” you admitted as you followed Xavier. “Why do you care so much if I talk to him though?”

“You’re kidding.”

“Why would I kid?” you blanked.

“Open your eyes, Y/N! I have been here on your side this entire time, and you still don’t get it?” Xavier snapped banging the table with the tub full of plates and mugs taking a step closer to you. “Sometimes it’s unbelievable how little empathy you have for others.”

“Xavier,” you breathed out taking a step back.

“I like you, Y/n. What do I have to do for you to see that?” he followed in taking a step closer.

“You know I don’t actually like Tyler, right? You might be an imbecile and infuriating but-” you hinted.

“Really know how to make a guy blush,” he let out a small laugh.

“It’s the attributes I like about you though,” you muttered under your breath.

“What was that?” he mocked.

“Don’t make me say it again,” you deadpanned looking down on the floor avoiding his gaze.

“No, I don’t think I heard you the first time,” he joked he lifted your chin with his hand. “What did you say?”

“I’m not saying it again.”

“You gonna let me kiss you?”

“Depends,” you answered.

He moved his hand from your chin to the back of your neck pulling you into a kiss. You found yourself kissing him back wrapping your arms around his neck. You could feel him smile into the kiss. You didn’t kow how long you to stayed there for until you heard a cough behind you.

“Seems like you’ve had fun working,” Wednesday said unimpressed as she pulled you away from Xavier. In which he just laughed as you tried to get your arm out of Wednesday’s grip.

"Wednesday, why do you always have to grab the same arm," you whined as she dragged you out.

#xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #wednesday #wednesday series #wednesday netflix #wednesday addams #xavier thorpe fluff #xavier x you #xavier thorpe x you #xavier x reader #netflix #percy hynes white #thing addams

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godslino · 3 months

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PIECE BY PIECE | minho first date series. friends to lovers.

pairing: minho x fem!reader word count: 6.2k genre: college au, mutual pining, fluff, angst warnings: drinking, referenced injury (very minor) summary: minho, on a drunken whim, asks you out on a date.

a/n: finally!! the minho part!! i’ve been sooo excited about this one since i first got the idea. i hope you guys enjoy! once again any and all feedback is appreciated, happy reading <3

“Dude, I think it’s clean.”

Minho looks up from where he’s scrubbing the counter, eyes narrowed. So what if it’s his third time going over every surface in the kitchen?

“Are you going to help me or are you just gonna sit there and make more crumbs?”

Jeongin’s eyebrows shoot into his hairline. He holds up his hands in surrender, the bag of chips in his lap crinkling. “I’m just saying. You’re acting like she’s never seen the place before.”

That’s the problem. You’ve seen his place. Minho has to stop the shudder that threatens to overtake his body at the thought.

“So you’re not helping? Great. Get out.”

“I live here!” Jeongin whines. “Why do I have to get out? You can’t banish me like this.”

“I can and I will. Now leave. I have two hours to make sure everything is ready and I am not going to vacuum for a fourth time.”

“Yes mom,” Jeongin rolls his eyes as he unfolds his legs from underneath him.

He stops just short of the kitchen counter, points an accusatory finger at Minho’s disheveled figure still hunched over an imaginary stain.

“For the record, Chan hyung would never do this to me. He loves my crumbs.”

Minho throws the scrub daddy at him.

🏠

The night it happens, all it takes is approximately three shots and a pep talk from Hyunjin for Minho to finally find the nerve to ask you out.

“You’ve got this,” the younger boy says, words slurred, his hands steady on both Minho’s shoulders. The bass thumps loud in the other room, drowned out by the walls of the kitchen until it’s nothing but garbled nonsense going in one of his ears and out the other, vibrations low in his chest.

“I’ve got this.” Minho repeats, the thrum of alcohol already spreading to his fingertips. He feels warm, light on his feet. His limbs are starting to loosen up and his insides are turning to jelly. He might even be floating.

“You look hot.”

“I look hot.”

“She’s gonna say yes.”

“You’re gonna venmo me twenty dollars.”

“I’m gonna venmo you twenty dollars.” Minho parrots before he can even process what he’s saying. Changbin, who’d been watching the entire thing unfold from where he stands with his back pressed against the sink, snorts.

“Wait, what the f—”

“Go get her!” Hyunjin screams, pushing him through the door of the kitchen with one last pat on the back, “And send me my money!”

Minho stumbles over himself, just barely able to stop in time before he goes crashing into a group of people. The living room is crowded: there’s furniture pushed up against the walls, bodies pressed front to back in the middle of the floor, a makeshift DJ stand in the corner where Chan is controlling the music from his laptop, drink in hand. Minho catches his eye from across the room, the glow of the LEDs reflecting off the toothy grin he shoots his way, dimples on full display.

“Hey!” Minho feels someone grab his arm, and he turns to find you staring up at him. “Where’d you go? You said you were gonna get a drink.”

Minho follows your eyes down to where you’re staring at his empty hands. “I—uh, well. I ran into Hyunjin and we took a few shots.”

The pout you give him does nothing but spur on the fluttering of his chest, his brain still hyper aware of the way your hand was resting on his elbow. “Shots? I want shots!” you whine, and Minho has to avert his gaze from staring at your lips when your pout only worsens.

“How much have you had?” he tries to ask over the music. There’s a shitty pop song playing, high pitched and wonky. If he remembers in the morning, he’ll make sure he berates Chan about his DJ-ing abilities.

“What?” you scream back, tiptoeing to bring your mouth closer to his ear.

Minho is only a man. A man who's been in love with you since the moment you accidentally spilled your coffee all over Hyunjin in the quad during freshman year. He remembers that day well, remembers the way your eyes went wide and your lips parted. He also remembers the way he wished it was him with the large wet stain on his shirt, that way it was him that was offered to have his lunch bought as an apology.

He’d never admit it, but sometimes really late at night, when the moon is high in the sky and he’s feeling oddly sentimental, he counts his lucky stars that Hyunjin had been in a relationship at the time. Minho doesn’t know what he would’ve done had he been forced to watch the two of you hit it off—some form of arson, presumably. Anything to take the edge off. But because of the fact that Hyunjin was not trying to have his head cut off by said girlfriend at the time, he invited Minho along as some sort of collateral damage. That’s when the two of you became friends. Kind of perfect if you ask him.

With the jumbled mess of butterflies in his stomach that he gets whenever you’re near him, and the threat of the alcohol slowly seeping through his skin, his brain short circuits the minute your breath grazes the shell of his ear. When your hand follows not long after, fingers gripping the nape of his neck to hold him in place, he almost passes out.

“Min? What’d you say?”

Minho is rendered completely useless by you. Absolutely ruined. Your existence has thrown his entire plan to woo you off course and now his mouth is opening and closing like a badly programmed robot. Pathetic. Nuts and bolts for brains.

By the grace of God (or some other higher being that Minho’s never bothered to believe in until this very moment) he finds his voice, but not before you’re pulling back with a confused look on your face.

“I asked how much you’ve had to drink,” he says, straining against the music.

A saccharine sweet grin that has him seeing stars spreads across your face, “Not enough!”

Minho is not an enabler. Never has been, never will be. There was one time, back in that fateful freshman year that also introduced the two of you, that he let Hyunjin get blackout drunk. A terrible decision on his end, if the earful he got from Chan the next morning was anything to go by. And as if that wasn’t enough, he was finding remnants of the resulting hacking session for the following week. So yeah, never again.

But while Minho isn’t an enabler, he is smitten, and the way your hand feels wrapped around his wrist as you drag him into the kitchen has his soul threatening to leave his body. He thinks that maybe he could do anything as long as you asked. He also hopes you can’t feel the way his pulse is rabbiting beneath his skin, right under the press of your thumb.

“There’s, like, nothing here.” you say as you rummage through the cupboard near the window, nose scrunched and a frown on your face.

Minho laughs, rounds the kitchen island to crouch down and open the cabinet under the sink. “That’s because you don’t know where to look,” he smirks, pulling out a fresh bottle of tequila. “Also, Chan hyung is greedy. He knows people like you will go scavenging his supply if he isn’t careful.”

“I resent that.” you frown, taking the bottle from him. “Besides, people like me deserve to have fun too.”

“Mhm, sure.” Minho says, grabbing a solo cup. He holds his hand out for the bottle, pours just the right amount before sliding it over and following it up with a can of coke.

“A man after my heart.” you joke, holding your cup up to him in a mock toast before downing it in one go. Minho watches with so much focus, fighting against the way his head spins. He doesn’t even know if it’s the alcohol anymore, it might just be the effect you have on him. Dizzying—you flip his entire world on its axis in the best way possible.

Minho’s gonna be seeing your exposed neck in his dreams later, he’s sure of it—it’s branded into his memory.

“That…is so fucking bad.” you giggle, holding your cup out. “Another one.”

Minho clicks his tongue. “I don’t know…”

“Pleaseeee Min,” the lilt in your voice sounds oddly familiar. Minho holds his breath just in case you—yup. There it is. There goes that pout again.

It’d be so easy for him to lean down and kiss it right off your lips. He could blame it on the alcohol, maybe, but then that takes away from how he actually means it.

He sighs instead. “It’s gonna cost you.”

“An arm and a leg?”

“What? No—I meant some water.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Three shots and a full bottle of water later, Minho knows you’ve hit your limit. Cheeks flushed pink, a dopey grin on your face, pupils blown wide. Even in this state, Minho is certain that you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“Anotherrrr,” you slur, waving your cup in his face.

Minho shakes his head. “No can do. You’re cut off.”

“Please,” you whine, placing both hands on his shoulders, “I’ll do anything.”

Minho, completely taken back by the sudden closeness of your body to his, freezes.

“Anything?” he asks before he can stop himself.

This is stupid. You’re drunk. There’s no way you’re going to remember anything in the morning, much less within the next thirty minutes. He’s pretty sure that you’ll lose control of all your senses soon, which is why he’s already texted your roommate Jiwoo to unlock the door so he can carry you inside. Nothing he hasn’t done before.

“Anything,” you repeat, eyes going cross-eyed where they’re fixing on the mole he has at the tip of his nose.

This is stupid. But then again, so is Minho. A big, stupid fool that blames everything on the fact that he’s so in love with you it hurts. This might be the only chance he gets to shoot his shot.

Minho takes a deep breath, says something similar to a little prayer that’s more like Hey, if anyone’s listening, help a guy out, and hopes that the twenty bucks he sent Hyunjin works.

“Go on a date with me.” he says slowly, wincing when your eyes snap up to meet his gaze.

Well, there’s really no going back from that. The only thing that could possibly grant him redemption now is banking on the fact that you don’t remember anything in the morning.

Minho waits with bated breaths, watches as your eyes search his for a long while. He waits for the anger, the disgust, the visible repulsion that he starts to think might happen the longer the silence continues.

He’s about to backtrack, quickly conjuring up an excuse about how Oh, haha, gotcha! when your hands suddenly drop from his shoulders. You grab the cup, your chin tipped upwards, and hold it out for him to fill.

“Okay.”

“O…kay?”

“Yeah. Okay. Pour me another one.”

The next morning, when Minho all but drags himself into the kitchen in search of water and something to soothe the throbbing in his head, he nearly spits a mouthful at Jeongin, the poor guy too busy eating his cereal to realize he’s gotten a front row seat in the splash zone.

Y/N [10:34am]

when do you want to do that date?

🏠

Are candles too much?

Minho has options: clean linen, lavender breeze, ocean mist, warm vanilla. He really just needs something to get rid of the smell of cleaning spray.

He thought that having a night in for a first date would be ideal—less pressure, no unwanted attention, a bathroom that he can run into when he starts to hyperventilate if you smile at him for too long. But now that it’s happening, he’s convinced that every surface of his and Jeongin’s shared apartment will scare you away if anything so much as looks off-putting.

Minho is, to put it simply, freaking out. All the other times you’ve been over to his place were on a completely platonic level. Movie nights with all the other guys in tow, dropping off food that you felt generous enough to buy every once in a while, one time because you’d accidentally worn Minho’s jacket home from a party and needed to return it to him.

But this is different. This is a date. Minho’s not dreaming—he already pinched himself a dozen times in the bathroom mirror, tiny red marks on the inside of his forearm to prove it. He’s going to open the door, invite you in, cook for you, and then proceed to resist the urge to tell you how beautiful you are for however long the night continues on after that. He can practically hear Jeongin’s laugh in the back of his head, sneering at how pathetic his inner monologue sounds right now.

He needs to find another stain to scrub.

By the time you’re knocking on his door, Minho has changed his outfit seven times. Sweats were too casual, a button up was too fancy. Should he not have done his hair? No, that’s just lazy, the way his fringe is swept up and out of his forehead adds a nice touch that doesn’t scream Hey! I’m trying to woo you! You’ve never been the type to be impressed by grand gestures and shows of confidence anyways, he knows that well.

One time, when a guy from one of the frat houses hired the campus quartet to sing a song for you in the quad as he stood there with big beady eyes and a bouquet of roses in his hand, you’d all but ran from the scene, Minho following close behind as you called out to him over your shoulder. It’s one of his fondest memories. As soon as the two of you made it around the back of the science building, you’d doubled over in laughter, the both of you in disbelief at what had happened. Minho has had that information tucked into the deepest parts of his brain ever since, saved just in case he needed it.

(Later that night, in the safety of his own bed, he’d laughed maniacally at the situation. Something about watching you reject another guy filled him with a sense of joy he couldn’t explain. He just hoped he was never going to be on the receiving end of it.)

He does a quick once over of the kitchen: double checks that all the ingredients are out, blows a speck of dust off the glass stovetop, spins the tiny floral arrangement he bought so that it’s sitting at just the right angle. When the doorbell rings, the chime bouncing off the walls of the apartment, he visibly pales.

He has to reel it in, to remember that it’s just you. You might not even be here with any intentions other than to fulfill your end of the deal; one date in exchange for the extra three shots he poured you the other night. Minho takes a deep breath, grips the doorknob with conviction, and decides that he’s determined to show you the way you deserve to be treated. The opportunity is there, and he’s gonna take it.

As soon as the door swings open, every nerve that had somehow crept its way into his brain disappears, the sight of you standing on the other side immediately sending the anxiety scrambling and replacing it with fondness instead.

“Hi,” you smile, and Minho sees images of you coming home to his apartment flash across his mind. After class, after work, in the winter when it’s cold and your nose is tinted pink, on rainy days where the ends of your hair are damp and you have a wet umbrella in tow. He could get used to it. He’s so in love that it hurts.

“Hey,” he breathes out, stepping aside to make way for you, “Come in. Are you hungry?”

“Starving, actually. Been saving myself all day since I don’t always get to have your cooking.” You hop on to one of the stools, your attention momentarily stolen by the flower arrangement. One point for Minho.

I’d cook for you every day, he wants to say. But that’s weird, right? So instead, “Well then I guess today is your lucky day.”

“Yeah, I guess it is.” You say softly.

Minho can’t see you with the way his back is turned, hands moving to grab out the knife and cutting board, but if he could he’d see the way your eyes are staring softly at his back, the ghost of a smile on your lips.

Conversation flows easily after that, despite Minho’s original worries about it being awkward. You’re not necessarily treating it as a date, and he isn’t really either. It feels more like a glorified hangout, just the two of you spending time together with the added glances and smiles that normally wouldn’t be there.

Minho finds it easy to get lost in you. He finds himself craving to know more about your day, about the things that’ve been on your mind lately and the hobbies you’ve picked up. Most of the conversation is a continuation of stuff that’s fallen through the cracks during the times you see each other, but he doesn’t miss the way you ask about him too, your eyes shining with genuine interest. It makes his heart slam against his ribcage.

“How are your cats doing?”

Minho looks up from the cutting board, follows your gaze to where it’s fixed on the scattered pictures that litter his fridge. “They’re good,” he says, smiling down at a head of garlic, “My mom sends pictures all the time. She says they claw at the door to my room when they miss me.” He smashes the garlic under the knife’s blade by hitting it with the heel of his palm. “It’s cute.”

“You’re cute.”

Minho, in a very flashy demonstration of what it means to be cool, calm, and collected, slices his thumb mid-chop.

“Shit.” he mutters, dropping the knife.

It’s not that bad, just a little nick, the surprise was mostly what scared him. He probably doesn’t even need a bandaid. But despite how small it is, nothing stops you from hurriedly walking up to him and taking his hand in yours, his thumb held closely to your face for inspection.

“Are you okay?” You turn his hand over between your fingers, the soft pads of them against his calloused ones. Minho is dumbfounded, struggling to find the words to say.

“Yeah—um, it’s fine. My fault. I was distracted.” He stammers out, pulling his hand back and holding it up. He wiggles his fingers, making a show of bending and twisting his thumb that, at most, has just a small cut on the side. “See? Perfect.”

Your face relaxes, and then you’re laughing. Why are you laughing? Either Minho looks like a complete idiot or he’s suddenly the funniest person in the world for being clumsy and reckless and almost ruining the night by losing a finger. Whichever one it is, he doesn’t care, as long as he gets to hear that sound again.

“Let me help cook, please? I know you said you would do it all but clearly you’re a threat to the integrity of this meal.” You say, bumping your hip against his to move him away from the cutting board.

Minho scoffs. “I wouldn’t have done that if you didn’t catch me off guard.”

“So what? You admit that I make you flustered?”

Oh.

Minho wasn’t prepared for this. He wasn’t prepared for the—the flirting that’s clearly happening. You’re flirting with him, right? Why else would you have called him cute or given him that suspicious side eye after you asked that question?

You and Minho have joked around like this before, but it was always empty with no real feelings attached—as far as he could tell. You’re a naturally friendly person, getting along with others comes easy to you. He’s seen the way you talk to the other guys and has always just assumed he was no different in your eyes than they were. Sure, there were moments where maybe your hand lingered on his arm for a little while after he made you laugh, or the two of you would steal glances across the room. Sometimes when Hyunjin said something stupid you’d both catch the other’s eye and make a face, just another funny way of proving that you were both on the same wavelength most of the time. It’s kind of why Minho is so taken with you—he’s never met anyone that gets him the same way.

Reluctantly, Minho puts his pride aside and allows you to help. And as it turns out, you’re actually really good at cooking. Minho doesn’t have to instruct you much, and before he knows it you’re both working like a well-oiled machine, scooting past one another as you switch places between the stove and the sink, reading each other’s minds without even having to ask.

“Taste this.” You say, holding the spoon up to his mouth. Minho leans forward, front teeth poking out, and brings the spoon into his mouth. You cup your hand under his chin to catch any droppings, watching in anticipation as he smacks his lips together.

His eyes light up, big and brown and twinkling under the light of the kitchen. “Perfect.” He smiles.

“Oh you have—uh,” you stop him with a hand on his forearm just as he’s about to turn back to the sink, your other hand hovering next to his face hesitantly, “It’s just, um, your—here.”

Minho’s eyes go wide when your thumb swipes against the corner of his mouth, your touch feather light. It’s so intimate, the only sound being the music playing low from the speaker on the counter. He’s half convinced that you’re able to hear his heartbeat, blood pumping loud in his ears.

“You had some sauce…on your face.” You say shyly, your palm still pressed to his cheek.

“…Oh.”

Minho’s never really looked into your eyes from this close up before. He’s always known they were beautiful, the shape of them soft, full of nothing but the world. He can see himself in them from here, and, selfishly, he hopes you can see yourself in his, too.

He might be imagining it when your gaze flicks down to his lips for just a fraction of a second, but there’s no time to unpack any of that when the sauce starts bubbling over the edge of the pot, spilling on to the burner as loud sizzling and smoke fills the kitchen.

It’s chaos. The bottom of the pot is burnt and there’s only so much of it that’s salvageable. He only bought the exact amount of ingredients too, because this is a self-proclaimed no-food-waste household (as explicitly stated in the napkin contract he has with Jeongin, much to his dismay). So, hooray for conscious consumption of goods!

At the end of it all, there’s no one to blame. You’re both guilty of…whatever that was.

Minho tries to reassure you that it’s okay as he dials the number for the pizza place just down the street, simultaneously shutting down all your attempts to pay as an apology. It doesn’t matter to him, he’d do anything as long as it means he gets to spend time with you. At the end of the day, it’s another memory that he’ll hold close to his heart.

“Listen,” you say, swallowing down a mouthful of pizza, the both of you seated on his couch with a half-eaten box of pizza open on the coffee table, “I know you wanted to cook and all—which, by the way, I’m still sorry—but this is so good. However I’m sure whatever you made would’ve been better.”

Minho chuckles. “Stop lying,” he wipes his hands on a napkin, “I can guarantee you that whatever I cooked wouldn’t be as good as this anyways.”

“Stop selling yourself short, Min. You’re good at everything you do.”

The words fall from your lips so easily, like it’s something you’ve convinced yourself of long ago. Minho’s never been the type to bounce around from one thing to another, always choosing to stick with it until he has it down to a science. Cooking is one of them. Jeongin can attest to all the times Minho has berated him with tasting his latest dishes, chasing him around the apartment with a spoon. The words tighten themselves around his heart.

“I’m not,” he rolls his eyes, “But nine times out of ten, grease and mozzarella cheese are gonna win. I know that for a fact.”

You laugh, and the conversation gradually diverts into a debate about the top ten best greasy foods in existence. You’re heated, half kneeling on the couch with a finger pointed at him as you plead your case for onion rings, when your eyes go past Minho’s head and settle on the shelf of games in the hallway.

“You have games?” you ask, suddenly giddy with excitement as you hurry over to inspect the selection.

Minho watches with fond eyes, collects the plates and napkins to throw away. “Yeah, most of them are Innie’s. We don’t really use them. Sometimes when we’re drunk, other times when we’re bored and decide to wager money for fun.”

You hum, not really paying attention. Monopoly, Chutes and Ladders, some decks of cards, Uno—you scan the shelf until your eyes light up at what you find hidden at the bottom.

“Min! Can we play Jenga?”

“Jenga?” Minho asks, re-entering the living room. The coffee table is clear now, and he sits between it and the couch, his back against the cushion. “Isn’t that kind of boring? We have other stuff there.”

“It’s only boring if you play it the way it’s supposed to be played.” You roll your eyes. Minho turns to you when you situate yourself on the floor beside him and only momentarily contemplates running to the bathroom when your knee knocks against his. He’s been holding it together pretty well so far, however The Sauce Incident had him ready to book it if anything had gone further.

“Well how else are we supposed to play it?” He frowns.

“We make up our own rules.”

The pieces scatter across the wood of the coffee table, clacking as you diligently begin putting them together. “This is a date, right?” You ask, stopping for a moment to turn and assess his response.

Minho stills. He genuinely forgot the grounds on which tonight had even happened in the first place. Spending time with you makes him forget everything else. And, despite his fears in the beginning, being on a date with you has felt so natural that it almost seems like you’ve done it a thousand times before.

Your eyes meet. For a moment, Minho lets himself wonder what it’d be like if he went for it right then and there. “Yeah,” he says slowly, unblinking, hoping you can see the sincerity on his face, “A date. One of the best ones I’ve ever been on, actually.”

He almost cries out in victory when your face flushes pink. “Now who’s a liar?” You ask quietly, going back to piecing together the game.

Minho has learned something new tonight: he really likes seeing you flustered.

“Why do you ask?” he decides to cut you the slack, “Or what does this being a date have to do with Jenga rules?”

He waits as you finish the stack, your tongue sticking out in concentration. You’re so cute. Minho mentally pockets that image for safe keeping.

“Sorry, okay, it’s done. But basically, if we pull out a block, we get to ask the other person a question.”

“And if the tower falls…?”

“Hmm,” you think for a moment, chewing on your bottom lip, “Oh! I know. If you lose you have to tell me why you asked me on a date.”

Minho’s stomach flips. “Okay. If you lose you have to tell me why you accepted the date.”

Something unreadable passes over your face, but it’s gone in an instant. You hold your hand out for a shake, and Minho wraps his fingers around it gently.

“Deal.”

“Why are you taking all of the middle pieces?” Minho pouts.

The two of you have gone through a couple turns by now, throwing out random questions for the better half of fifteen minutes. Favorite colors, childhood foods you wouldn’t eat, the best memory you have from high school. Minho’s learned a lot, has fallen for you a lot more. But that was always a given. It’s impossible not to when he can feel the warmth from your body where you’re seated next to him, your presence overtaking all of his senses.

“Because I’m trying to win,” you laugh, putting your freshly pulled piece at the top. Just a little crooked, too. To piss him off. “Favorite movie?”

“Ponyo. Easy. My turn.”

“Seriously? Why Ponyo?”

“One question at a time, princess.”

He means it as a joke, really. He doesn’t even realize what he’s said until after the fact, the nickname making your heart skip a beat. Minho notices, the corners of his lips tugging downwards as he suppresses a smile. He manages to flick one of the side pieces until it gives way.

“What’s one thing you regret?”

“Ooh, getting deep I see.” You laugh, taking a sip of your soda. There’s a long pause, and then, “I regret spilling my coffee on Hyunjin that day.”

Minho’s brow furrows. You…regret it? He runs through all the possible reasons in his head. Surely it can’t be because you regret becoming friends with them, friends with him, right?

“Why?” He chances.

“One question at a time, princess.” You echo, laughing at his shocked expression.

You remove the last middle piece. “On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate our first date?”

Minho’s brain is going a thousand miles a minute. “A ten. Wouldn’t trade it for the world.” He says it fast, wastes no time in moving forward to remove his own piece. He doesn’t even notice that your cheeks have gone pink again, too busy itching to ask his next question.

“Why do you regret spilling your coffee on Hyunjin?”

Minho watches you, lets his mind wander to the worst possible thing you could say in this situation, and mentally prepares to book it to the bathroom.

You take a deep breath, “I regret it because I wasn’t supposed to spill it on him. I was supposed to spill it on you.”

Wait, what?

Minho blinks. “What are you talking about?”

This is humiliating for you. A terrible thing to have to admit. Up until this moment, you’d thought that this information would follow you to your grave. You press the heel of your palms to your eyes, “This is so embarrassing,” you groan.

Minho pulls one hand away. He’s not really sure what to say, mostly because he’s confused, but, “You can tell me.”

“I had…” you start, looking up at him slowly, “A plan. With Jiwoo.” Minho nods for you to continue. “I’d seen you and Hyunjin walking through the quad a few times, and I thought that you were cute, but I didn't know how to approach you. So I did something stupid and decided that I would literally just crash into you. But I fucked it up.”

I thought that you were cute. The words echo in Minho’s ears like a bell. All this time, all those stolen glances and lingering touches, all the ways you would make hope spike in his chest that maybe you felt the same—they were real.

“So you, wait—” Minho shakes his head, “So you’re telling me that all this time…”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, Min, really. All this time.”

Minho’s never been skydiving, but he imagines that this is what it feels like. Free falling—his soul hurtling towards earth at a horrifying speed, slamming back into his body right here in his living room with a force so strong it would knock him off his feet if he wasn’t already sitting on the floor. You were interested in him first.

Wordlessly, you lean forward, pulling out a piece with practiced ease. Minho waits with bated breaths.

“Can I kiss you?”

Minho feels like he might pass out. “Am I dreaming right now?”

“You didn’t pull out a piece.”

He scrambles forward, clumsily nudging a piece on the side that ends up sending the entire tower toppling over. You smile at him, soft and sweet. “Looks like you have to pay up with an answer. You know, since you lost.”

Minho doesn’t care. “Because I like you,” he breathes out, “I asked you on a date because I like you. I like you so much, ever since I saw you that day. And, funnily enough, I’ve always wished you’d spilled that coffee on me instead, too.”

The confession feels like a weight lifted off his shoulders. He’s spent so long pining after you, laying awake at night thinking about how this would go down if he ever got the chance. He never expected for it to happen like this, much less for you to possibly feel the same.

Panic slowly starts to rise in his chest when you don’t respond. He watches as you reach an arm over, build a small tower out of a few pieces, and then knock it over. You turn to him with a small smile, “Oops, I lost too.”

Minho is so in love with you that it hurts.

“I accepted the date because I like you, Minho. I’ve just been waiting for you to ask.”

He doesn’t think twice before he’s surging forward, cupping your face with one hand and kissing you with a tenderness that has you melting into his touch.

There’s no fireworks behind his eyes, no big bang or grand display of whatever it is that happens in the movies. But there’s a warmth, it starts out small in the center of his chest and spreads throughout his entire body, lights his skin aflame and travels all the way to his fingertips. You’re like that. A gentle presence, someone who worms their way into the very essence of his being and burrows into the deepest parts of him, like it was never his to begin with. Kissing you is slow, and deep, and right. He wouldn’t want it any other way. Minho doesn’t ever want to stop.

He lets his other hand fall to your waist, pulls you closer until you’re practically straddling him with his back against the couch, your knees on either side of his hips. Minho lets out a long, drawn out groan when you tilt his head back farther, his lips parting and allowing you to lick inside of his mouth. It’s so good. So good. He can’t believe he ever lived without knowing what this felt like; lived without ever having you this close before.

After a while, Minho reluctantly pulls back, holding you by the shoulders. When he looks up, your eyes are half-lidded. You look utterly debauched, cheeks pink and lips swollen from how hard they’d been pressed against his own. “We should probably slow down.” He tries hard to convince himself, too. “Talk about it all, you know? I don’t—this isn’t a one time thing for me. I don’t want it to be. I like you. I want you to know that.” He says softly, reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

You lean into his hand, smiling when he flattens his palm to let your head rest there. “You’re like, so perfect that I want to kiss you until you forget your own name.”

Minho’s ears go red, his head falling forward until it rests against your collarbone. The feeling of his breath against your skin makes you laugh and run a hand through his hair, rubbing at the back of his neck fondly.

“This is gonna be so bad now that you say stuff like that.”

“Bad? No, I think it’s cute. You’re cute.”

“Shut up,” he whines, but there’s no bite to it. Not when he can look up and press a kiss to your lips. A dream come true. The entire world in his hands, exactly where it was always meant to be.

🏠

In the morning, when Jeongin comes back home, one hand covering his eyes just in case, he calls out,

“Everyone better be dressed! Or else I’m ripping up that napkin and making a new one with No fornicating on the furniture added into the fine print.”

When he doesn’t get a response, he rounds the corner, and finds the two of you nestled into the couch. Minho’s back is pressed into the cushions, his arms wrapped tightly around you as you nuzzle your face into his neck.

Jeongin huffs out a laugh, sends a quick text to Hyunjin that reads: Negative. Clothes are still on. But they’re so cute it’s almost sickening.

He snaps a picture to send to the group chat, grabs a piece of cold pizza, and retreats to his room.

Yang Jeongin Fanclub

jeongin: [Attachment: 1 image]

chan: AWWWWWWW

jiwoo: i’m gonna cry

changbin: dude is that the good pizza from down the street?

hyunjin: FINALLY

hyunjin: wait

hyunjin: does this mean i have to send back his $20?

[tags: @palindrome969 @summergirlsmj @n1staytiny @strwbrrychannie ]

#lee know x reader #first date series : minho #lee know fluff #lee know angst #skz x reader #lee know fanfic #skz fanfic #lee know fic #skz fic #lee know fanfiction #skz fanfiction #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fic #stray kids fanfiction #lee know #godslino #first date series

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flowershines · 4 months

Text

viagra?

Summary: they accidentally take viagra thinking it was ibuprofen so now they are horny and still in pain. (legal line)

Warnings: Smut, viagra, pills, pain, boner, teasing, public boners (lmk if i missed any)

Not proof read

Heeseung:

Walking into the dorms he came home from practice with a pounding headache that just wouldn’t go away no matter how much water he drank or how many times he tried to ignore it, it just kept getting worse and worse by the minute. “Baby where is the ibuprofen?” He asked looking towards the couch to where you were laying while looking at your phone, “On the shelf next to the other bottle.” you said as you pointed to the bottles on the shelf in front of him. He grabbed the bottle took 2 pills out got himself a glass of water and walked over to you as he took them, while he laid next to you as he just waited for the medicine to kick in hoping the pain would go away soon enough. Over time while he was watching his phone he started to feel a different type of pain, he moved his phone to the side a saw he was painfully hard in his pants as it was uncomfortably twitching as his cock ached for attention. You heard him squirming next to you picked your head up “Are you o-” following his eyes you saw the situation he was in, “Random boner?” he turned to you “I don’t think so usually I still think about sex when I get a boner.” then it clicked in your brain that there were was a bottle of viagra next to the pills on the counter. “Oh shit.” You told him as you picked up the bottle and showed it to him, “That was viagra, Y/n I took 2.” he exclaimed as his eyes scanned the bottle in his hands. “Please help me.” You stood up and got the actual bottle of ibuprofen and handed two pills to him “I will just take these first.” you said as you placed them in his hand. “Thanks baby.”

Jay:

Laying in his bed his ankle would not stop aching and throbbing, during practice he was doing the choreography for Still Monster and twisted his ankle in all the wrong ways. “Princess can you please get me some ibuprofen for me please.” he asked as he leaned upwards so that way he was looking directly at you, you nodded to him as you left his room headed to the counters and grabbed the bottle of pills along with a bottle of water. Walking back into the room you handed him both things as you got into bed with him and laid down as you snuggled into his chest, his eyes started to struggle to stay awake he turned to his side table then noticed the bottle and how the labeling didn’t look how it normally does. Reaching his arm out he twisted the bottle to the front as it read in big bold letters ‘viagra’ he turned to you, you had no idea you looked down at your phone watching Tiktok’s of your boyfriend at his most recent concert. “Princess?” You lifted your head up to look at him as you smiled from ear to ear being unaware of everything that was running through his head, he held up the bottle and showed you what it said causing you to instantly shoot up from your spot and immediately start apologizing to him. “I’m so sorry please don’t be mad, I didn’t know. The bottles look so simila-” he cut you off as he pulled you into a kiss to shut you up, he pulled away and didn’t say anything but just looked into your eyes for a minute before saying “It’s okay, i’m not mad. Just can you help me out when I do get hard, and please get me the actual right bottle of ibuprofen?” you instantly nodded and shot up and out of the bed booking it to the kitchen as you grabbed the other bottle then handed it to him.

Jake:

His back has been killing him for the past week and all that everyone has told him was ‘take some pain meds’, ‘go get some sleep’ or ‘take some time to relax’ but nothing was working no matter how many hours he spent relaxing or how many’s days went by that he would take medication. Nothing. Rolling over as he turned to you on the bed he whined as he kissed you on the forehead “Feeling any better?” you asked as you looked up at him while you hugged his chest he responded as he shook his head then mumbled something into hair as he hugged you tighter, “Want me to get you anything?” you asked as you slowly backed away from his hug he whined from the loss of your body on his. “Medicine please.” Nodding you got up from your spot and started headed to the kitchen as you heard a faint, “Thank you gorgeous.” looking for the bottle you were not aware that there was a bottle that was filled with viagra but had them in a ibuprofen container to hid them from the members. Looking at the bottle you saw the back of the bottle that contained the ingredients seeing ‘ibuprofen’ on the label you thought you were in the clear and bring the bottle with you to the room, you handed him the bottle as he took two pills out and placed them on his tongue, swallowing them then proceeded to fall asleep as he waited for them to sink in. His eyes slowly opened as he saw you sleeping figure on him while his cock twitched against your upper thigh, he shook your arm as he slowly started to wake you up out of your deep sleep “Please help.” he asked desperately looking down as his cock throbbing against his sweats.

Sunghoon:

Walking into the dorm and heading straight to his room for some medicine his wrist started to feel worse the more seconds passed by, you were on the couch as you waited for your boyfriend to watch a movie with him. You started to scroll through the movies displayed on the screen then once you find a movie you think is good you would shout out the movie name which he would respond saying that he was okay watching it or he wasn’t, but every one you liked he said he wasn’t in the mood to watch. So you just figured you would wait for him to come back and have him scroll through and see what movie he would want to watch, he started rummaging through his drawer that was right next to his bed as he saw the bottle of pills on his side table he picked up the bottle then places the pills in his mouth. His water was already on the side table next to it he walked into the living room with the glass of water in his hand that was not in aching pain, he finishes the glass of water that was in his hand and puts the empty cup in the sink as he walked over to sit next to you. Finally being able to lay down he placed his head on your lap while you handed him the remote so that way he can pick the movie, minutes passes by as he scrolled through the channel, the water started to sink into him as the ache to use the bathroom hit his abdomen. Placing the remote on your thigh he sat up and headed towards the bathroom then locking the door behind him, starting to undo his belt he looked down and noticed an insanely hard bulge aching against his jeans. He left the bathroom with his belt unbuckled walked up to you and stood in front of the screen as he made your attention turn to him, you looked at him confused as he started walking towards you while placing a kiss on your lips. Pushing onto the couch below you he started to thrust his hips up into you and said “Help me out pretty, I think i accidentally took the viagra.”

Sunoo:

“Can you hand me my water please.” he asked as he walked over to you during his and the members water break, you handed it to him while Heeseung walked over to both of you and started a conversation talking about how he can’t wait to go home and sleep because his feet hurt. “My legs are throbbing they hurt so bad.” Sunoo said as he rubbed the back of his calf’s “I have ibuprofen if you want it.” Heeseung offered as he pointed to his bag with his thumb, Sunoo nodded. “Please.” Looking over you saw Heeseung rummaging through his bag just before he took out a bottle, opening it then walking over to you guys as he took the pills out from the bottle and placed them on your boyfriend’s hand. “Thanks.” He said as he swallowed the pills with the water in his hand, Heeseung nodded as he placed the container on the side next to you. The choreographer called them back over to start teaching them the next part of the dance causing most of them to silently groan from constantly working hours after hours, the members were tired and so drained so it slowed their dancing down. The choreographer said how they needed to pay attention more, you placed your phone down next to the bottle of pills that Heeseung brought over. Hearing your ringtone you went to go pick up your phone but looked at the bottle as your attention was immediately focused on the label saying ‘viagra’ then it’s ingredients, you head shot up looking at your boyfriend as his face displayed a clear emotion of anticipation. “May I use the bathroom?” He asked the teacher as she nodded to him, his pace was fast and steady he walked over to you and grabbed your wrist pulling you to the bathrooms with him. Locking the door behind him he said “Heeseung told me that they were the wrong pills.” he said looking down to his pants as his bulge was clearly visible, looking up back into his eyes he brought his hand over his pants starting to slowly rub himself over his sweatpants. “Please?”

Jungwon:

Laying in the living room with the members you watched from afar as your boyfriend played a video game with Niki as they competed against each other, as the more members came in the less space their was on the couch. Jungwon pulled you onto his lap to make more room for his hyung, “Jake- hyung can you get me some ibuprofen?” your boyfriend asked from behind you as you turned to face him “You okay?” you asked as you rested your head on his shoulder. “Yeah just my stomach.” Lifting your head to look at him “Nauseous?” he shook his head “Just hurts, i’m okay though.” kissing your forehead he turns to you and kisses your lips then returned his gaze to the tv in front of him. “Which one is the ibuprofen?” Jake asks from the kitchen causing Jay to yell back “It’s the one in the white bottle.” a faint ‘ok’ was heard then followed by the sound of water being poured. Jake walked back into the living room and handed you the things for Jungwon as he didn’t have any free hands to hold anything with, pausing the game you turned to him and gave him the pills and water. Niki hit playin the game as Jungwon handed you back the cup, your boyfriend was tense from Niki beating him and overtime hasn’t even noticed himself getting hard not until he felt a pain start to form from his aching cock. He lifted up his head as you turned your around looking back at him as he now knows that you know, he huffed out air as the pain he was in just wasn’t going away no matter what he would do. As the round came to an end he gave Sunghoon the controller “Play for me, i’ll be back.” he said as he grabbed your hand and lead you into the bedroom. Shutting the door behind you he was cut off “Can you h-” you nodded onto his lips as you pulled him into a deep passionate kiss as you gripped his hard dick through his pants.

#smut #fluff #enha x reader #enhypen smut #heeseung smut #jake smut #jay smut #jungwon smut #sunghoon smut #sunoo smut

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