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bethelighthalazia · 28 days

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Terrifying

Summary: Your gentle giant of a boyfriend Yunho doesn't always know how strong he is. This is proven during a fight between you two when he throws his guitar.

Genre: angst

Pairing: bf!Yunho X fem!reader

Word Count: 1944

Warnings: mean Yunho, arguing, swearing

networks: @newworldnet

© by bethelighthalazia. Do not repost, copy or translate. Unless stated otherwise, those works are mine and born from my own ideas. I don't have any claim on the mentioned real existing Idols whatsoever.

It was late in the evening when your boyfriend of two years arrived home from practice. You had cooked his favorite for him and then waited for his return. In the morning, he had said his schedule would end at 6 pm today. Now, it was almost 11 pm. The table set, you had waited patiently, but when Yunho didn't come home at 8, you resorted to the sofa, curling up on it with Yunho's hoodie he left laying there in the morning.

You didn't notice the keys jingle in the lock, nor did you hear your boyfriend enter the shared apartment. You fell asleep only a few minutes after you had laid down on the sofa and were now deeply asleep. Yunho only let out a tired sigh when he noticed you, he didn't mean to be this late, dance practice took longer than he had hoped. Seeing the set table, he then quietly put the food away into the fridge, so the two of you could eat it the next day. Contemplating whether to move you to the shared bed or leave you on the sofa, Yunho's decision is made the moment you shuffle. He gently picked you up and then set you down on the king sized bed in the bedroom, covering you with a blanket and then left to take a shower.

The next morning, you woke up cuddled against Yunho's large frame, a soft smile on your face, but then you remember the last evening, he again came home much later than he had told you. How many times did he promise you to be home early, but then break this promise. But you never said anything, because you knew that he works hard, it's normal to have late work and practice as an idol. You know that. Then why did a tear steal its way from your eyes? Why did it upset you that he came home this late last night?

Because it was your anniversary. Because it's the second time this year that he forgot such an important date. First your birthday, now your anniversary.

You tried to be quiet, to suppress the sob that built up in your chest, but his strong arms around you didn't let you leave the bed. Swallowing hard, you tried to shuffle out of his grip, but this movement woke him up too, causing you to wince mentally.

“Morning, love…” He hummed with his usual sleepy voice which, on any other day, would have made you smile, but today it just brought another tear from your eyes. You didn't turn around, just whispered “Morning Yuyu” and curled up. This actually made him frown,you usually would smile at him, turn around to kiss him and then cuddle and try to make him stay in bed with you. “You have schedules today, you should get ready soon.” A look at the alarm clock on your nightstand confirms your words, but Yunho shook his head behind you. “We don't have any schedules today and the next two days, so we can spend the day together.”

Normally you'd be happy about those words, but this morning, you just couldn't. “Okay, let's do that. Are you hungry?” Even your voice lacked the usual enthusiasm, even though you're trying to be happy to have your boyfriend home and for yourself for three days. And of course Yunho would notice this, turning you around, so he could look into your face while talking. The sight of your tears lets him stop and frown though. “Are- why are you crying, love? Are you in pain?” His voice filled with concern, he doesn't even realize that he's the reason you're crying this morning.

“Y- you really forgot, hm?” It's a simple question and while you swallow down the disappointment and hurt, you manage to give him a little, almost crooked smile. “It's okay though, you had a hard week, it's not your fault, Yuyu. We can celebrate it next year.” Those words cause his eyes to go wide. The dinner he had put away, you on the sofa, it slowly falls in place. It had been your anniversary and he really did forget about it.

Although, after only a few seconds, his shocked expression turns into a frown, then into something that looks angry or annoyed. “You know that my work will always be like this, y/n. I have to practice and sometimes it makes me come home late. You knew this from the beginning.” He said, leaning back a bit to look at you, which leaves you with confusion.

“I know that, Yuyu, that's why I said it's okay, I don't-” “Then why are you acting like I'm the bad guy now?” He cut you off, which is unusual for him. He always listened to you, never interrupting you when you spoke before. Swallowing to not start to cry in front of him now, you just nod and get up from the bed, but he grabbed your wrist. Not the usual gentle way though, his grip was a bit harsher this time.

“Hey, we’re talking, I asked you something, y/n.” Frozen in place, you just stay at the edge of the bed, swallowing down a sob before you try to answer confidently, but your words only come out in a whispered voice. “I didn't, Yuyu…please, your grip hurts.” You didn't look at Yunho, somehow scared of him at this moment, but thankfully he lets go of your wrist. The shuffling behind you caused you to wince, but he had turned his back to you when he sat on the edge of his side of the bed, so you quickly made your way to the bathroom. When the door closes behind you, you could hear a loud thump, he had slammed his hand on the nightstand with a little annoyed growl.

When you came out, he wasn't in the bedroom anymore, so you made your way to the living room, where Yunho sat on the sofa, playing a game on his console. He still looked angry, so you let him be and walked to the kitchen area, where you saw all the food from last night thrown away. “Yuyu, did you-” You started, turning to leave the kitchen, but you almost ran into him. “Why did you throw it away?” It was a simple question from you, but for some reason, it flipped something inside him, an annoyed look on his face again.

“Another thing to nag me about? It's not really edible, so I threw it out. Hand me that water, so I can go back to my game.” Nag him? You never nagged him about anything, where was this coming from now? “Yuyu, I-” “Yuyu, I. You what? Looking for another reason to cry about?” He mocked, pushing past you to grab a bottle of water from the fridge before leaving the kitchen again, leaving you standing there, wondering what was wrong with him today.

You didn't know why he was like this, but you didn't like him talking to you like this, when you supported him all the time and never complained about anything to him. After a few moments, you follow him, swallowing the lump in your throat and stand in front of the TV now. You could hear the sound of his character dying in the game, but you didn't care. That is, until he stood in one move and started yelling.

“What the fuck, y/n?? You just ruined hours of playing!” It's the first time ever that he's yelling at you and it hurts. “I don't care, Yunho! What's wrong with you today?” You're not yelling, the shakiness of your voice present as you try to speak up, tears already welling up in your eyes, but you don't cry. Yet.

“What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you? You wake up and cry about me being late, then you nag at me. Don't you think you should be happy that I'm working hard?!” You never before witnessed him this angry, and for the first time in the years you know him, you're scared of Yunho. “You know how fucking hard it is to always go to work, let everyone walk over me while I'm always nice to everyone? Be told that I have to practice more, to be perfect?!”

With only a few steps, he walks over to grab his guitar, holding it up. “And then, I come home later because I did fucking practice, and it's not good enough! No, my girlfriend has to cry about me forgetting to be home in time for dinner.” “It's not about the dinner, Yunho! I told you it's okay, why are you yelling at me now?” You tried to talk back, your voice isn't nearly as loud and stable as you had hoped though. “Why am i- maybe because I'm fuckin tired of you making me to be the bad guy here?! If it's okay and just dinner, why do you have to cry about it?!” With those words, he lets out his built up anger, throwing his guitar at the TV. With you standing near it, you flinch, eyes widen and when both things break and pieces split off and hit you, you can't hold back the sobs.

The moment Yunho threw the guitar, he realized what he did, his eyes widened in shock, real shock this time. Not only about your sobs, but also because he hurt you. All the anger subsided immediately and he took a careful step towards you, but you just flinched and stumbled backwards. “Y/n, I- I'm sorry, I didn't-” He whispered, his voice a stark contrast against the yelling only moments earlier. You knew he meant this, but you're terrified, dropping onto the floor in a sitting position as sobs shake your body and tears just run free. You didn't even register the pain yet from where the little pieces of debris had hurt you, nor did you care about them bleeding a bit.

“Please, let me- let me take a look…you're hurt, love-” You heard his voice, but only shook your head no, still crying. Letting out a heavy sigh followed by an own sob, Yunho quickly reached for his phone, calling his best friend and putting him on speaker the moment Mingi picked up. “Yunho? Yah, why do you wake me?” Mingi sounded as if he just woke up, but when he heard your quiet crying through the phone, he sat up in his bed, fully awake. “Is y/n crying? Wha-” “Yes, she is…can you come here? Right now?” It didn't need any more words for Mingi to hang up and hurry to rush into the apartment not even five minutes later. The apartment was not far from the dorms, which came in handy this time. However, when Mingi walked into the living room, he froze in place, seeing the shattered TV, the broken guitar and you sitting on the floor, crying and hurt.

He quickly stepped over to you, noticing you flinch when Yunho made the tiniest of movements. Mingi knew that Yunho always bottles up his anger and sometimes it just has to burst out, this time, it seems to have happened around you, which Yunho always tried to avoid. “Hey, it's okay y/nnie, I'm here. He won't hurt you, okay?” Mingi whispered, gently checking your wounds, which are merely little scratches and nothing too deep. Then, he picked you up to carry you to the bedroom, gathered some of your things before just carrying you out of the apartment and took you to the dorms with him.

taglist: @mingis-mizu, @tinyelfperson, @hotteokkay, @minkiliciouss, @bunnliix, @gong-fourz

(if you want to be added to a taglist, follow the taglist-link in my pinned post)

#kat writes <3 #ateez #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez yunho #ateez angst #ateez imagine #newworldnet

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fanfic-wonderland · 4 months

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Not Just Friends {Coriolanus Snow}

Synopsis: After your breakup with Felix Ravinstill, you go to Coriolanus Snow for help and comfort. When you ask him to go to the Winter's Ball with you so you can make your ex-boyfriend jealous, he's hesitant. He has his reasons...

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Reader

Word count: 2.6k

Read part two here.

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When you arrive at the Snow residence one chilly afternoon, bawling your eyes out, nearly everyone is immediately worried. Coryo’s grandmother does not stick around for long to listen to your problems, claiming that she’s tired and will lie in bed for a while. However, Coryo, who looks the most concerned, guides you to their dining table, sitting beside you while Tigris heads directly to the kitchen to make you a cup of tea. “What happened?” He asks immediately.

You try to quiet down your sobs, taking a few deep breaths before answering him. “You were right. Felix is a no-good jerk. I should’ve listened to you.”

Coryo’s eyes darken at the mention of Felix’s name. He’s never been fond of him, much less when you started dating him a few months ago. You thought that he was just playing the role of the overprotective best friend when you first told him that you and Felix started seeing each other, and that he was being ridiculous when he had said that Felix was “the worst option for a boyfriend”. If only you had listened to him back then, you wouldn’t be crying over a broken heart right now. “What did he do?” Coryo asks in a low dangerous tone.

“He—” You shake your head as more tears fall down your cheeks. Coryo takes out a handkerchief from his pocket and grabs your chin softly, wiping them away. “I found him making out with Arachne in one of the classrooms.”

Coryo stops his movements, a hard look on his face. You try not to lose it again after the words leave your mouth but the image is freshly imprinted in your mind. The way his hands were all over her, while she grabbed at his hair… and how their mouths devoured each other…

You snap out of your thoughts when Coryo suddenly stands up and begins heading to the door. “Where are you going?” you ask frantically, following him.

“I’m going to kill him,” He answers but does not stop walking. “And her. I’ll kill them both.”

“No, Coryo, wait!” You grab him by the arm and pull him back. He finally turns back to you; his eyes are practically flames at this point. “They’re not worth it. Just… stay here with me, please,” You practically beg him. You feel your voice on the verge of breaking, again. “Please. I need you here with me.”

Coryo’s expression softens at your words and your glossy eyes make him silently give in. His arms wrap protectively around your figure and your cheek is pressed against his chest. You cry some more while he holds you, and it makes you feel a tad bit better.

A few moments later, the three of you are back at the table while you’re sipping from the tea that Tigris had brewed for you. The crying has finally stopped; the tea and the company were a big comfort. “I do want to ask you a favor that doesn't require killing anyone,” I direct my words to Coryo, who is already looking at me.

“Anything,” he says.

You sigh. “I want you to come with me to the Winter’s Ball.”

Coryo groans. “Anything but that,”

“Oh, please, Coryo,” You plead, clasping your hands together. “Both of them will be there and I just know that they'll be fuming if they see us together. Felix always hated the idea of us together and I just want him to see that I—”

“(Y/N), I already told you that I'm not going—”

“I know what you said,” you cut him off. Coryo typically does not mind going to social gatherings but the Winter’s Ball is different. He’s not fond of attending a dance filled with students who love to flaunt their wealth through over-the-top gowns and suits he cannot afford. At least not for now. “But if you could just do this one thing for me I will be forever grateful. I'll even pay for your suit, I have no problem doing—”

“Don’t,” He warns you. “Do not try to bribe me with that.”

You lower your head when you realize that you've made him angry. “Sorry.”

Silence follows and it feels like it goes on for too long. “Coryo,” Tigris chimes in. “Maybe it could be a good thing that you go with (Y/N). Aside from helping her out, it could also be a nice way to get your mind off things. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard lately.”

He narrows his eyes at her but before he can say something else, you beat him to it. “No, It’s okay. It was a dumb and petty idea anyway. Maybe I should just endure it as it is,” I stand up. “I should get going now. Thanks for the tea, and for listening. I'll see you guys later.”

Tigris walks you to the door while Coryo stays seated, keeping his eyes away from you. Moments later, Tigris comes back with a frown on her face. “Would it be so bad for you to go to the Ball?” She asks him softly.

Coryo closes his eyes and sighs. “You know how I feel about these things, Tigris.”

“I know. But you'd be helping (Y/N) out,” She points out. “Coryo, she's your best friend. How many times has she helped you without asking for anything in return?”

Countless times. And Coryo is sure that you'll keep helping him for as long as you can. It's only one of the many things he loves about you. “Tigris, you don't understand,” Coryo takes a moment before he confesses. “It’s not just about the Winter’s Ball. The mere thought of helping (Y/N) to make that good-for-nothing Felix Ravinstill jealous is…”

Tigris observes her cousin, the pained look on his face as he talks about you and your ex-boyfriend, and her eyes widen in realization. “Oh,” Coryo looks down at his hands, unable to say much. He’s already said enough. “Were you planning on telling her?”

He shakes his head. “It’s not worth it. She clearly doesn’t feel the same way.”

She places her hand on top of his. “I know it looks that way now, but there’s no telling what she truly feels unless you talk to her. You guys have known each other for so long that there may be something unspoken on her part, as well.”

Coryo doesn’t know what to say to that but the thought of you reciprocating his feelings stirs something inside him. He shouldn’t give in to them —he needs all his focus shifted to his studies to stay top of his class— but Tigris’ words make him reconsider his priorities, whether that’s a good thing or not.

***

You regret coming to the Winter’s Ball by yourself.

Everyone you see in the room is either coupled up or chatting away with other people. The people from the Academy who you once considered your ‘friends’ have taken Felix’s side after you guys broke up— all except one, but he's not here, so you're left sitting at an empty table on your own.

You've spotted Felix and Arachne a few times already, dancing together, and you try to distract yourself with a plate of food and a few drinks, but It's hard to look away when he's kissing her as if you aren't there. As if you guys hadn't dated at all.

You really shouldn't have come.

The plate is not even halfway empty but you've already lost your appetite. Your head is spinning and your chest feels heavy; the best thing you can do is leave. No one will notice anyway.

So you quickly stand up from your seat but when you turn to leave you almost run into someone had you not realized sooner. “Sorry,” you say before looking up at their face. You nearly stumble backward when you take in those familiar blue eyes. “Coryo! You’re here.”

“Where you just leaving?” Coryo asks.

You shrug. “I didn’t feel like being here by myself.”

“Well, you’re not anymore,” He offers you his hand. There’s a hint of a smile as he says, “Would you like to dance?”

You’re speechless for a moment, not truly believing that Coriolanus Snow, one of the most persistent people you’ve ever met, is attending the Winter’s Ball with you. You almost pinch yourself to make sure that you’re not dreaming. The only thing you can do is nod and place your hand in his, and then he guides you to where everyone else is already dancing. People begin to turn their heads in your direction; some smile (at Coryo), some glare (at you), and some whisper to the person next to them, but you find that you don’t care.

That is until you reach the center of the dancefloor and catch Felix and Arachne watching the both of you closely. His blazing stare almost succeeds in making you crumble, but you're brought back to reality when you feel Coryo’s thumb softly grazing the back of your hand. “Don’t pay attention to them,” He says close to your ear. You notice that he's smirking proudly at them and maybe that's the reason why Felix looks like he wants to kill someone. He's always had this crazy idea that you and Coryo were going behind his back, so this must feel like a slap in the face to him. You try to brush those thoughts aside and focus on the feeling of Coryo’s hand holding yours, how it makes you feel so warm inside.

The both of you turn to each other. You wrap your arms around his neck and he pulls you close by the waist. Your bodies begin to sway to the music naturally; it feels like you guys aren’t just pretending. The other students certainly seem to believe so, seeing how, unlike when you first arrived, everyone’s attention is fully on both of you. After a few moments of dancing, you start to forget where you are, and it feels like It’s just you and him in the room. He makes you feel that way effortlessly just by the way he’s looking at you, and only you. It’s like nothing else matters to him in this one moment.

You only break eye contact with him when you’re suddenly spun around by someone behind you. “I knew it,” Felix spits his words out like they're venomous. “How convenient that right after we break up you’re here with none other than the guy you’ve always denied being involved with.”

You fold your arms across your chest, scowling up at him. At that moment, you beat yourself up for crying over a guy like him. “I've always been truthful. I never went behind your back. Unfortunately, I can't say the same for you.”

“You act like you're so innocent, right?” Felix scoffs. “You always said nothing was going on between you and Snow but here you are throwing yourself at him in front of everyone.”

Your blood begins to boil. Before you can say anything else, Coryo steps in front of you. “Watch your mouth, Ravinstill,” He warns. “I’d think carefully about what to say if I were you.”

Felix laughs dryly. “This doesn't concern you, Snow.”

“It does because she's with me tonight and I won't tolerate you addressing her like that.”

Coryo steps closer to Felix, practically hovering above him. Although Felix is slightly shorter, he doesn't seem the least bit intimidated. “Right. Figured you would play hero and jump right into defending your little whore from—”

Coryo’s fist meets Felix’s face before he can finish talking, sending him straight to the ground. Everyone who is watching the scene gasps in horror. Once he recovers, Felix manages to connect a punch to Coryo’s jaw, but it will take more than that to take him down. Coryo’s much stronger than him— and much angrier.

You call out Coryo’s name in panic, trying to get him to stop, but he keeps grabbing at Felix and punching him numerous times until his knuckles are stained with Felix’s blood. You begin to think that he might kill him. “Coryo, stop!” You cry out again, trying to hold him back by the arm.

He finally listens but his attention is still on Felix, who is lying on the floor and whose face is more than messed up now. A few students try to help him out and you take that opportunity to drag Coryo outside.

You figure he needs some fresh air. You know you certainly do. So both of you walk around the Academy grounds for a bit, arms linked with each other and neither of you saying anything until you find a bench right across from the fountain and you sit down. By the time you do, Coryo has calmed down a bit, although he still looks shaken up. You notice the bruise starting to form across his jaw, and you have a sudden urge to run your fingers through it, to do everything you can to make it go away.

Coryo catches you looking. “It doesn't hurt much,” He reassures you. “You probably hit harder than him.”

You chuckle, too exhausted to pretend to be offended. “Are you alright, though?”

“Yeah. Are you?”

“I think so,” You nod, fiddling with your fingers.

You break away from his gaze but you can still feel him staring. “Hey,” he places a hand on your cheek to get you to look back at him. “Nothing that he said is true, and I hope you know that.”

A fluttering feeling forms in your stomach. His eyes have always been your weakness.

“I know that, It’s just…” You shake your head. “I feel like all of this is my fault. I shouldn't have asked you to come with me, because clearly, it was a horrible plan. And now I probably fucked things up for you— your reputation might be deeply affected now that you beat up the president’s son.”

Coryo doesn't say anything. His lips remain a thin line on his gorgeous face. “I should really start listening to you from now on, huh?” You try to joke.

You guess it works as Coryo smiles faintly. “I think that's the best idea you’ve had so far,” he agrees. “But I could care less about my image right now. He deserved that—no, worse. No one talks about you like that and gets away with it. Not if I can help it.”

His words make your insides jump. You try to control it because since when does Coryo have such an effect on you? Your relationship has always been nothing but platonic. “The thought of you hurting over a guy like him pains me so much because he doesn't deserve you. Fuck, even I don't deserve you, but I would never, ever do something to hurt you like that,” You swear he’s leaning his face closer to yours. “You're the most important thing to me, (Y/N). You’re so precious and I don’t think you see just how much. But I do. I’ve always seen it.”

You gape at him. “Coryo…”

You were not expecting him to say something like that. Coriolanus Snow has always been far from the romantic type. Charming, absolutely, but you have never heard him express any desire to be romantically involved with someone, let alone yourself. You don’t know how to answer to him. “You don’t have to say anything right now,” He tells you. “I just needed you to know how much you truly mean to me.”

And then he stands up and walks away, leaving you cold, confused, and alone with your thoughts.

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adventuringblind · 8 months

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Baby Daddy

Lestappen x Reader

Genre: Smut

Request: Yes and I did this happily because it came from the best (Would have been happy either way but that just makes it better)

summary: Charles and Max decided to see who can get reader knocked up first.

Warnings: Breeding kink, PinV, vomiting, double penetration, teasing, praising+degrading

Notes: The author liked this one. The author will now be jumping in holy water.

masterlist

The following media is not intended for minors. Please don't interact if you're under the age of 18.

She wasn’t sure how the conversation started. She knew both boys wanted to start a family, and she was in the height of a baby fever that she can’t escape from. So, asking about it made sense.

Not that they were mad. Of course not. They just couldn’t decided who would be the one to be the biological father.

“I think we should make it a competition.” Max’s smug face makes her pale. It’s never a good sign when he brings up that word.

“Winner gets to choose the order of out last names.” Charles demands. Another argument they’d been having recently.

“What about me?! I’m the one who’s carrying the baby!”

“You can choose where yours goes no matter who wins.”

“Sounds fair to me.” She smiles with satisfaction. At least she knows there is an ungodly amount of good sex coming her way.

Three months of trying. She was sore after every race. not for the reasons of her lovers. But because of what they to do her. their competitive spits had yet to falter. Much to her benefit and pleasure.

Six months of trying and she was starting to lose confidence in herself. Her doctor said she’s fine, but it doesn’t stop the stupid thoughts because all three of them want this entirely to much.

A year and she’s given up on thinking about it. They are obviously still trying, but it’s not something that she talks about much anymore. She knows that it takes longer for some and she’s okay with that. She just avoids the subject as much as possible.

The night Max wins his second championship title is about how’d you expect it to be. Except for the part where him and Charles are in the corner with the tiniest bit of alcohol in their drinks.

They eye her in that stupid dress she knows they love, dancing rather suggestively with Kika and Lily. She’d been staying away from alcohol as of late so they know she’s not even close to tipsy. Yet the look on her face as she dances could make anyone think she was.

‘I think we should get out of here before we do something stupid.” Suggests Charles without breaking his gaze.

“Like what?”

“Take here right here and now.”

The boys startle her as they drag her away from her friends. She hardly even registers they are in the car going to the hotel. “Did I do something wrong?” The sincerity in her voice doesn’t go unnoticed.

Max leans down to whisper in her ear. “Just thinking about getting this dress off of you."

Charles runs his fingers along her thighs, causing her to shiver. His mouth finds the crook of her neck and lays gentle kisses down to her collar bone.

She feels for the taxi driver. The poor man is subjected to whatever is happening in his back seat.

"Gonna take you home and put a baby in you." The Monegasque moans into her skin. It was making her feel in a way that had her squeezing her legs together.

They continued riling her up the entire way back to their hotel room. Even getting hands in the elevator and in the hall, which was thankfully empty.

Max gets the door to the room open. Then, the two males waste no time litterally ripping the dress off of her. Her clothes are gone in seconds.

Their hands are everywhere she doesn't want them. She's left squirming beneath their hold. Pinned to the bed in a way that leaves her more vulnerable. Every peice of herself exposed to them.

And they know exactly what they're doing.

Max runs a single finger over her slit. "Look, Charlie, I think she wanted this."

"Already so wet for us chéri." Charles moves from where he was attacking her neck down to her tits and attacks them instead. His tongue doing a number on the sensitive area.

Max slips a finger inside of her. To slow for her liking. She tries to buck her hips to get more friction only for Max's unoccupied hand to put more wait on her hips. "This is what you get for teasing us in that dress."

"Mm Maxy, think about how she'd look in the dress all swollen with our child." Charles hands barey touch her stomach, and yet it still has her back arching.

Max jumps off of her and is immediately pulling Charles up with him. He gives her a pointed look and tells her to stay.

And then their hands explore each other. Peeling each piece of clothing off the other in record time.

"If you're trying to get me to cum now to you have an advantage, it's nit going to work." Charles says as Max rolls his eyes and stops any movement he was making.

"I have an idea." Max mumbles.

"That's never a good sign."

"Well fine! I guess you don't want to hear how we could make this even."

The female looks between the two bickering and is interested in what he has to say. But also scared. Scared the she won't be able to walk for a week.

And she's right because soon enough, she is lying back against Charles with his cock inside of her. She can't stop moaning as Max leans over the top of them.

Even. She officially hates that word. And yet here she is being turned on by the fact that both boys will be inside her at the same time. Fingers crossed, they don't rip her open in the process.

"You sure you wanna try this?" Max looks at her for approval, and even with her initial fear, she knows they would never hurt her.

"Just go slow, please."

Max starts slow. Charles bites into her shoulder at the friction of her and Max. She can feel all of his muscles tensing underneath her as Max takes his sweet time pushing into her.

It hurts. She knows it won't in a couple of minutes. But right now, the stretch if it all burns like white hot fire.

When both are in her, they take care to help her relax until her body adjusts to the size. They wipe away her tears as she sinks into their hold.

"So good for us, amour. Taking both of us so beautifully." Charles exhales a breathy moan as if to further prove his point.

"Fuck schat, you look so pretty taking us so well."

And then everything went fuzzy. The friction of the two males was too much. Moving in and out in tandem; perfectly in sync with each other. Her thoughts seemed to be replaced only with them. Their breathing, the sounds, the feeling of skin on skin.

"Dobyou want it, schat? You want us to put a baby in you?"

She can't actually speak properly, but there is definitely a yes that can be heard in her moans.

Their praises are only pushing her closer to her breaking point. "I'm- please- I can't."

She doesn't even have time to warn them. She can't warn them. She can't hear them either. Her nails are buried in their skin.

They spill into her simultaneously. Their bodies are perfectly connected with each other. It feels overwhelming and terribly beautiful. The feeling of them spilling inside of her at the same time.

When they come down from the high is the hard part. Max slides out first, and Charles follows, slowly and gently. They collapse in a heap of exhaustion. The emotional tie and physical tie completely took their energy.

"Do you think maybe this time...?" She trails. Her question weighs on them.

"In time, mon amour. We'll still be here even if it's not."

Summer break is a time to recuperate. The three of you are on summer vacation, spending time together on the beach.

That night had been a month a half ago. The female had yet to realize she was late to her cycle. Opting to ignore it and assume she's just messed up for some reason.

The second to last morning of their trip, she woke up feeling absolutely terrible.

She snuck out of bed as quickly as she could without waking the boys who are much heavier sleepers than her anyway.

The nausea feeling was overpowering, and it didn't matter how stealthy she was. They woke up to the sound of her spilling the contents of her stomach.

And then every day after the the point everyone is concerned.

Two months and still no period, she finds herself at the doctors. The boys are back to racing, but with her state, she decided to stay in Monaco.

A decision she was now regretting while having the test from the doctor in her hands.

She is definitely pregnant this time. The paper in her hands says it clear as day.

It is only Friday. She has time to get out to the race to surprise them. And with that idea floating in her head, she calls Pascale.

Her and Pascale arrived to the track fifteen minutes into the race. The older woman is making a fuss over her as she tries to jog to the redbull garage. She was in Ferrari last time, and Redbull is closer to her anyway.

Pascale shakes her head as she watches the female slip into hospitality.

Max and Charles both made podium. She was absolutely ecstatic and even more so that Christian helped her get to where they would park.

They didn't notice her at first, even doing a double take at her and then each other. Then, with their helmets off, they ran to great her.

Their smiles were so big that she thought they might fall off.

They both attempted to embrace her through the divider, and she was able to slip her test results into the hand of Charles.

They looked at her skeptically before once again, having to leave her.

It wasn't until the cooldown room that they had a chance to look. Charles tentatively unfolds the paper and holds it out on front of him and Max.

The cameras got a lovely picture of the two hugging very tightly despite being 'rivals', and the happy tears from Charles could be made out even through the sweat.

Did it have people looking at the scene a little funny? Yes. She could hear the gasps of disapproval, but she didn't care. The teams know already and gave them the go-ahead over a year ago to make the relationship public.

She watches them with love and adoration.

"Definitely mine."

"No way! The baby will look like me!"

She rolls her eyes at the two. "Does it matter?" They look at her with mouths agape.

She is actively holding the paper that determines who wins. The paper that will tell them who the biological father is.

And she rips it.

Because no matter what, they are a family. The boys are looking at her endearingly despite the fact that she just took away their results. Because it doesn't matter. They are making their own little family and they couldn't be happier.

So, the argument of the last name order continues one.

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musicforastylesrestaurant · 5 months

Text

Do You Still Love Me?

masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here!

in which, harrys been acting shifty lately, when your looking for a shirt in his wardrobe, he gets hostile, when you say your going to go and shower, he gets hostile and for some reason doubts start to creep into your mind about what he’s been doing, so when you confront him about it, he tells you of his secret all along.

word count - 3.1k

23rd December, 2023.

The December air in Holmes Chapel holds a crisp chill, and as you sit in the cozy living room of Harry's family home in Manchester, the warmth envelops you. The room is adorned with festive cheer – a beautifully decorated Christmas tree takes center stage, casting a soft glow of twinkling lights.

The two of you had decided to spend Christmas at his family’s like you do every year, you’ve blended into a member of there family, as if you were always there. Anne considered you as another daughter, and sometimes on accident you sometimes referred to Gemma as your sister, so spending Christmas with them was undoubtedly a no brainer.

You were going to be staying for a total of three weeks, arriving two weeks before the big day and then going home January 1st.

You find comfort on the sofa, admiring the personalized stockings that hang from the mantelpiece, proudly displaying everyone’s initials. One for Harry, one for you, one for Gemma, one for Anne as well as one that is put up every year, an R, for everyone’s angel Robin. The stockings serve as a poignant reminder of the shared holiday traditions and the presence of loved ones, including a thoughtful tribute to his late stepfather.

As you await Harry's return from the grocery shop with his mother and sister, you revel in the tranquility of the moment. The crackling fireplace adds a soothing soundtrack to the scene, enhancing the coziness of the room. You can't help but reflect on the significance of spending Christmas in this familiar space, filled with memories of the past four years.

However, amidst the festive atmosphere, a subtle unease lingers. Lately, you've observed a shift in Harry's demeanor. His actions and words have become increasingly shifty, leaving you with a sense of uncertainty.

He dances around conversations, offering vague responses that only intensify your curiosity. It's a stark contrast to the openness and connection you've shared over the years, causing a quiet concern to settle within you.

You gaze at the stockings once more, the embroidered initials a testament to the bonds that tie your lives together. Yet, as you sit in the glow of the Christmas lights, a question lingers in the air – a question you can't quite bring yourself to voice. The flickering flames cast shadows on the wall, mirroring the uncertainty that clouds your thoughts, which happen to consist of the three moments that you’ve caught him acting weird.

15th December, 2023.

The date was December 15th, and the evening held a quiet tension as you sat on the sofa in Harry's family home, the soft glow of lamplight illuminating the room.

Anne, occupied herself with knitting a jumper, a rhythmic pattern of needles clacking together in the stillness. The warmth of the room, usually comforting, now seemed to underscore an unspoken discomfort.

Around eight at night, the front door creaked open, and Harry entered, an unusual weariness etched across his features.

He had gone out around two, and it was now evening, he just explained to you that a few friends from school wanted to meet up before Christmas, but there was a hint of doubt that remained in your brain.

You couldn't help but inquire about his whereabouts, a hint of concern in your voice.

"Where've you been, Harry?" you asked, eyes searching his face for answers. He shrugged nonchalantly, a vague response that only deepened the unease settling in the room.

Attempting to break through the tension, you pressed further, a furrow forming on your brow. "What's wrong?"

The question hung in the air, met with a dismissive reply.

"Just tired, m’love. Think I might hit the hay early tonight," he mumbled, avoiding eye contact. The words lingered, laden with unspoken weight, leaving you with a sense of disquiet.

As Harry made his way toward the stairs, you couldn't let the matter rest. Concern etched across your face, you followed him, determined to understand the source of his unease. His hand halted you mid-step, a silent plea for space. Unbeknownst to you that it pained him, because he was doing it for the right reason.

"I'd like t’be alone for a little bit," he uttered, the distance in his eyes leaving you feeling shut out.

Left standing at the foot of the staircase, a chasm seemed to widen between you and Harry. The uncertainty echoed in the air, and as he ascended the stairs, the door to understanding remained firmly closed. The normally familiar and comforting surroundings felt alien, the clinking of Anne's knitting needles a somber soundtrack to the unspoken rift.

That night, as you lay in bed, questions lingered in the darkness. The echoes of Harry's vague responses resonated, and a sense of foreboding cast a shadow over what was once a haven of warmth and connection.

19th December, 2023.

The chill of December hangs in the air as you step through the front door, returning from the farmers market with Gemma. The aroma of fresh produce lingers on your clothes, and a shiver runs down your spine as the warmth of the cozy living room beckons.

The house is quiet, save for the faint sounds emanating from the kitchen, where Harry is preparing a cup of coffee for himself.

You navigate the familiar space, following the scent of brewing coffee that wafts through the air. The kitchen is dimly lit, and there he is, Harry, standing by the counter, lost in the quiet ritual of making coffee. His silhouette is a comforting sight, a presence that adds to the warmth of the home.

You make your way up the steps, wanting to be comfy when you greet your lover boy.

The December cold clings to your skin, urging you to shed the layers of the outside world. A yearning for warmth and comfort consumes you, and the thought of slipping into one of Harry's oversized shirts becomes a tempting refuge. The familiarity of his presence in the adjacent room promises solace in the face of the winter chill.

As you move toward the bedroom, the creaking floorboards beneath your feet seem to echo in the quietude of the house.

Gemma strolled into the kitchen, the door swinging gently behind her. She found her brother,

Harry, leaning against the counter, sipping on a cup of coffee. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee beans hung in the air as he greeted her with a cheerful " ‘Ey, how was the market?"

Gemma looked up, offering a warm smile. "It was good, got some nice stuff.

Harry hummed before tilting his head to the side. “Where’s (Y/N)?”

Gemma mirrored his smile, her eyes lighting up. "She went upstairs to get changed, though."

Harry nodded, his attention momentarily diverted as he took another sip of his coffee. However, a realisation dawned on him, and he furrowed his brow. "Wait, she's upstairs?"

Gemma, unaware of the subtle shift in Harry's demeanor, nodded. "Yeah, she mentioned wanting to warm up and change. Why?"

Harry's gaze darted toward the staircase, a sudden sense of urgency gripping him.

"No reason, just wanted t’check on ‘er. Be right back," he said, placing his coffee mug on the counter.

With a quick stride, he headed toward the stairs, a mild curiosity turning into a subtle concern. As he ascended, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. When he reached the top of the staircase, he spotted you about to enter the bedroom, ready to change.

"Hold on a sec," he called out, hastily covering the distance to stand before you, his expression a mix of surprise and tension. "Y’not allowed in there."

Because in his head, if you wanted to get changed, you’d go to his section of the wardrobe because he knows that you’d want one of his shirts, and then you’d find the surprise and he wasn’t planning on ruining that any time soon.

You paused, mid-step, your brow furrowing. "What do you mean, not allowed? H, I'm just getting changed."

His features tightened with an unexpected intensity. "I said, y’not allowed in there," he repeated, the words hanging heavily in the air.

Confusion and concern painted your expression as you took a step back. "Harry, what's going on? Why can't I go into our bedroom?"

His gaze remained fixed, a wall building between you two. "Just... not right now. I need Don't go in there."

You sighed, a heavy breath escaping you, and nodded in resignation. "Fine, whatever. Just get me some clothes, please."

Harry's shoulders tensed, and he hesitated before nodding. "Ye’okay. I'll get y’some clothes."

22nd December, 2023.

You can't help but replay the scenes in your mind—the December evenings, the vague responses, the moments when he seemed to withdraw. Each memory adds a layer of doubt, and as you connect the dots, a stray tear rolls down your face. The fear of him cheating on you lingers, casting a shadow over the warmth that once permeated your shared space.

The absence of Harry, his mother, and sister intensifies the solitude, and the room feels emptier than ever. The Christmas tree, adorned with memories, offers little solace in the face of the growing suspicion. You contemplate the significance of the three instances, questioning the foundation of trust that once defined your relationship.

In the quiet of the room, the tear on your cheek becomes a silent witness to the emotional turmoil within. The fear of betrayal, the uncertainty, and the unanswered questions create a palpable tension, leaving you to grapple with the haunting possibility that the person you love may be slipping away.

As the front door creaks open, signaling their return from the grocery shopping trip, Harry, his mother, and sister step into the living room. The warmth of familial greetings fills the air, and they collectively acknowledge your presence with smiles and hellos. The shared laughter and banter among them, however, are met with a strained silence on your part.

As Harry approaches, intending to seal the reunion with a customary kiss, you rise from the sofa. The heaviness in the room seems to amplify as you avoid his attempt at affection. You make a deliberate choice to distance yourself, turning away from the warmth that once brought solace and comfort.

With measured steps, you ascend the staircase, each footfall echoing a growing emotional distance. The decision to retreat upstairs becomes a silent declaration of your need for space, a momentary escape from the complexities that have woven themselves into your relationship. The unanswered questions and the lingering fear make it challenging to engage in the familial camaraderie that unfolds below.

As you walk away and ascend the stairs, the atmosphere in the living room subtly shifts. Anne, Harry's mother, notices the change in dynamics and glances at her son, concerned etching her features.

"Everything alright, love?" she asks, a mother's intuition sensing the unspoken tension.

Harry, removing his jacket and shoes, offers a dismissive smile. "Ye’, just gonna check on (Y/N) . Be right back."

His attempt to brush off the situation adds a layer of ambiguity to the air, leaving Anne with a lingering worry that she can't quite shake.

Upstairs, Harry follows in your footsteps, the silence between you palpable. As he enters the room, he finds you standing near the window, gazing out into the night.

"Ey’," he begins tentatively, his voice carrying a hint of uncertainty. "S’going on? Are y’okay?"

Tearfully, you turn around to face him, emotions laid bare in your eyes. The air is thick with a mixture of sorrow and uncertainty as you pose a question that lingers in the silent space,

"Do you still love me?"

The vulnerability in your voice cuts through the room, leaving an atmosphere heavy with the anticipation of his response. Harry, caught off guard by the rawness of the question, searches your eyes for understanding.

Harry, caught off guard, furrows his brow defensively. "F’course, I do. Why would y’even think otherwise?"

His tone carries a mixture of hurt and frustration, an instinctive response to the implication that the love between you might be in question.

The room becomes charged with an anguished tension as you gather the courage to voice the unspoken concerns that have festered. "It's just... you've been acting so differently lately. There are these moments, these instances when you seem so distant. I can't help but feel like there's something you're not telling me."

Harry's defensive stance persists as he denies any wrongdoing.

"M’don't know what y’talking about. S’nothing going on," he insists, avoiding eye contact. The weight of his denial adds another layer to the unease in the room, leaving you to grapple with the growing chasm between you two.

The frustration builds, and you press further, "Harry, you can't just brush this off. It feels like you're hiding something, and I deserve to know what's going on."

The plea in your voice is met with a guarded expression from Harry, his defensive walls standing tall.

The room seems to tighten with each passing moment, the emotional stakes escalating.

"M’not hiding anything," Harry asserts, his voice tinged with exasperation. "Y’reading into things, making a big deal out f’nothing."

As the back-and-forth continues, a sense of despair settles in.

"Harry, I need honesty. We can't move forward if you keep shutting me out," you implore, the depth of your emotions exposed. Yet, his walls remain intact, and the elusive nature of the truth becomes a palpable barrier.

The echoes of their laughter from downstairs seem like distant memories now, drowned out by the intensity of the conversation unfolding.

"Just tell me, Harry. Tell me what's going on,the time you stopped me coming upstairs with you, the time you stopped me coming into the bedroom and had a go at me for wanting to go on your phone " you plead, your voice cracking under the weight of the unresolved tension.

The emotional exchange reaches a breaking point, leaving you on the floor, sobbing, desperate for answers. The weight of the uncertainty, the unspoken tensions, and the fear of losing the connection you once cherished overwhelm you. The room becomes a backdrop for your vulnerability, the walls echoing with the sound of your heartache.

Amidst your tears, you hear Harry sigh, and the rustle of a box catches your attention. He crouches down beside you, the heaviness in the air momentarily shifting.

"Look at m’please," he implores gently, his voice carrying a tone of sincerity that cuts through the emotional fog.

Hesitant, you raise your tear-stained eyes to meet his. His gaze holds a mixture of regret and determination, and he asks you to stand up. Every fiber of your being is hesitant, a cocktail of emotions bubbling beneath the surface. Reluctantly, you rise, uncertainty written all over your face.

As you stand, Harry, now on one knee, pulls out a small box. The room seems to hold its breath as he meets your gaze.

"V’been acting shifty because v’been planning this," he confesses, his voice soft yet earnest. "I wanted it t’be a surprise, but the timing... it just got all messed up."

"From the moment we met, m’life gained a sparkle that I never knew I needed. V’been m’confidante, m’partner in laughter, and the steady warmth that completes every corner of m’world. These past four years ‘ave been a journey f’growth, laughter, and endless love. Y’seen me at m’best and m’worst, yet y’loved m’unwaveringly."

He lets out a soft sigh. “Will y’make m’the happiest person in the world and say yes?"

Overwhelmed by the heartfelt speech and the flood of emotions, you fall into Harry's waiting arms, the warmth of his embrace grounding you in the reality of the moment. His arms wrap securely around you, and you find solace in the familiar comfort of his presence. With tears of joy streaming down your face, you look into his eyes, a silent affirmation of the love that binds you.

In a tender exchange, you press a loving kiss to his lips, the connection deepening as the weight of the proposal lifts from the room.

"Yes," you whisper against his lips, the word echoing with the promise of a shared future.

"Yes, Harry, a thousand times yes," you repeat, each affirmation punctuating the joy that now fills the space between you.

The room seems to shimmer with the shared happiness, and Harry holds you closer, his own eyes reflecting the relief and joy of the moment.

"I love you," he murmurs, the words a gentle reassurance that lingers in the air.

Harry tenderly tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch a gentle reassurance.

"M’sorry f’being so sneaky and, well, a bit harsh," he admits, sincerity coloring his gaze. "I just wanted the proposal t’be a surprise, but I guess v’already messed that up."

A light laugh escapes him, the sound a blend of amusement and relief. "Guess I couldn't keep it under wraps as well as I thought."

You join in the laughter, finding the humor in the unexpected twists of the evening.

"Well, surprise or not, it's the most wonderful thing that could have happened. I can't wait to be Mrs. Styles," you express, your eyes reflecting the genuine excitement that courses through you.

Harry's eyes soften with affection as he hears those words, and he leans in to press a sweet kiss to your forehead.

"M’can't wait either, m’love," he whispers, his voice carrying the promise of a shared future.

The room becomes a haven of shared laughter, love, and the promise of forever. Harry, still on one knee, takes your hand and delicately kisses the engagement ring.

"S’ring represents the love we've shared and the life we're about t’build together," he says, his words a poignant acknowledgment of the significance of the moment.

The room, once filled with questions and uncertainty, is now brimming with the certainty of love and the anticipation of a future together as Mr. and Mrs. Styles.

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sundaynightlive · 10 months

Text

Soft (Steddie + Platonic Stobin)

Hey Steve?”

“Mmm?”

“Can I say something? And can you promise not to get mad at me?”

Steve looks over at her curiously. He can hardly imagine what she could say that would really upset him, or why she’d feel the need to preface anything she had on her mind with a question like that. Usually, she’s all gung-ho about pissing him off—it’s just how they are, constantly bickering like an old married couple. Steve really doesn’t blame anyone for thinking they’re together—they sure act like it, in a roundabout sort of way.

“Sure.”

“Say you promise.” Steve rolls his eyes.

“Seriously, Rob, I’m not gonna—”

“Say you promise.”

That actually slightly unnerves him. He keeps his eyebrows raised, but relents.

“Alright, I promise.” She shifts in her seat, glances up at Eddie and the kids on stage, all chattering about something he doesn’t understand—attack rolls? Natural 20s? Owlbears?

“He makes you soft,” she says. Steve follows her gaze.

Oh. She noticed.

Steve tends to be oblivious, but he had noticed this, mostly because it was so… new. Irregular. Confusing. Around Eddie he just… softens. That’s about the best way to describe it—he’s glad Robin said so, because now he can put a name to the feeling. His brain seems to stop its mile-a-minute, mamma-bear rampage and just… quiet. He can’t put a finger on why—well he can, but it’s… a lot. He’s spent many a night staring up at the ceiling, trying to discern whether he really is romantically attracted to Eddie, or if he’s projecting. Maybe he’s been alone so long he just can’t tell anymore. Maybe his and Nancy’s little dance around each other is just confusing to the point of insanity.

But Robin noticed. And they should talk.

“Can we move back a few rows?”

“Sure.”

They stand and none of the kids nor Eddie take notice. Their voices are getting progressively louder, and Ed is perched in his chair like he could spring up on to the table at any moment, hands motioning excitedly in all sorts of ways. He talks with his hands, just like Nance and Robin.

“Are you mad?”

“No,” Steve says as they take seats in the mid-section, a little farther towards the back of the auditorium. He settles in, both to the seat and his own uncomfortability, not sure how to start the things he needs to say. He has questions, answers, concerns—but where to begin?

The beginning, probably.

“Do you remember that night the three of us were hanging and then Vickie came and picked you up and I told you I left right after?”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t.”

He looks over to make eye-contact with her, and finds just Rob, gazing at him. A little curiosity, a little surprise at his blatant lie—but he hadn’t known how to talk to her about it. Or how to explain himself. He had thought it easier just to hide that he and Eddie could ever get along without her, because she felt like an essential intermediary. A reason that it isn’t what it actually is.

He can’t really explain himself. He doesn’t really get why he lied, either.

“Liar,” Rob accuses, but there’s no bite.

“I stayed,” Steve confirms, breaking their shared gaze to look back out toward Ed. He’s got this feeling in his guts like he’s about to get into trouble, like he’s broken one of his mom’s nice antiques and is about to lose his swimming pool privileges—

“We talked for the entire night. Until six in the morning. And then I went home, and I wanted to call him. And I… I’ve been having these thoughts like maybe I like him? And I don’t get it because—” Robin takes his hand “—I like girls, you know? I know I do, you know I do—”

“Can I interrupt? Just a two second thought.” Steve nods, “Some people like boys and girls, it’s called being bisexual. I just want you to have that in mind for the rest of this conversation.” Steve blinks at her. Nods slowly.

Maybe he should’ve gone to her sooner.

Not maybe. Definitely.

“Okay… right. So… I’m fucking stupid,” Steve breathes. Robin shakes her head vigorously, adding a second hand to the mix.

“No no no,” she insists quickly, “But I want you to—“

“No, I like him,” Steve realizes, a million—maybe a billion—thoughts and feelings invading him all at once. Fear, uncertainty, excitement, relief, anxiety—he can’t even latch on to one of those. He doesn't know how to feel or think or anything except for this stark, pervasive understanding— “Holy shit, Robin.”

“Steve, you’re getting ahead of yourself—”

“No, I’m not,” Steve shakes his head, kind of probably in shock, “No, I… I’ve been trying to figure this out for weeks. I should’ve just… Oh my god.”

He puts his free hand over his face, absolutely mortified. Not about liking Eddie, of course, but because he had stupidly never considered that liking girls didn’t automatically make him unable to like guys.

Jesus, he's an idiot.

“I’m sorry,” Robin says, and for what, Steve has no idea. She’s just fixed his whole problem—or at least, half the problem. Now he has a crush he has to deal with, and of course Nancy, but at least— “It’s not a bad thing, though. I know it’s a lot to deal with and if you need anything I’m here. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“Rob, I’m fine,” Steve assures her, “Other than having a fucking pathetic crush on Eddie.”

Silence.

“So… you’re good with liking guys?” Steve looks up at her, sighing again for what feels like the hundredth time in this conversation.

“Yeah, that’s fine. It’s just I totally could’ve been doing something about it if I had just asked you sooner.”

Robin stares at him.

He stares back.

What, is he supposed to have some sort of breakdown? He’s had all sorts of thoughts about Billy and Tommy and Harrison Ford—of course he likes guys. Of course that’s not a “straight person” thing, he’s not stupid. But if he’d just applied a tiny bit of critical thinking—

“Are you serious right now?”

“Of course I’m serious,” Steve scoffs, “I could’ve already had, like, eight boyfriends if I had just thought about it. But I’m a fucking meathead.”

The unintentional hilarity of that statement doesn’t miss either of them, but now’s probably not the time.

She stares.

He stares back.

“You astound me, Harrington.”

“Do you think Eddie likes guys?”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Of course I’m—seriously, do you think he likes dudes?”

“I hate that you just said dudes.”

“Robin.”

“How many times has he suggested we watch Rocky Horror?”

“Enough for us to shorten the name.”

“There’s your answer,” she says, still sounding flabbergasted at his nonchalance, “Man, I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I cried for forty-eight hours after I realized I liked girls.”

“Do you want me to cry?”

Robin grimaces, “You’re right, I don’t.”

“That’s what I thought.”

She shakes her head, clearly done with him. It’s uniquely comforting how quickly she can go from a supportive shoulder to a hateful best-friend. He admires that about her, the many facets of her personality that make her, her. He truly doesn’t know what he’d do without her. He wishes they had talked in high school, that he could’ve been someone else in those days, especially seeing where being the “coolest guy in town” has really gotten him.

Nowhere, that’s where.

“I love you,” he says. She’s still holding his hand, and she stays holding it.

“I love you, too.”

#steddie #platonic stobin #steve harrington #robin buckley #eddie munson #hellfire club #blorbos #soft #we all deserve someone who makes us soft #don’t we?#gay #lgbtq #fanfic #fanfiction #blurb

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inkskinned · 1 year

Text

okay yes it's often bad and hard and sometimes i am so anxious my whole body feels like it's vibrating but also at the same time the gps took me a different way on my drive and i got to see more of the river than i usually do and yesterday the sun was still above the horizon after 7pm and that was amazing and the whole sky turned an orange-gold like how they try to make ice cream taste; you know, one of those evenings that just tears you open no matter how jaded you get. it's warm for the first time here and people had lined up against the water just to stand outside and watch the sunset

and yeah it's tax season no i haven't done mine yet but when i mentioned it offhand in a single side-comment three days later my friend sent me a list of helpful tips and followed up to see if i'd need help on them

there's this parking lot for a walking trail near where i live and one of the two google reviews is my actual favorite: love it here. there were so many beautiful parking spots but sadly we could only take one. and no this person isn't going to go viral and probably the only people navigating to this spot are extremely local - but there's something so precious to me about someone taking the time to write something that will make strangers in their community laugh, even though there's no way for me to tell them good one! directly

yes i am not doing well sometimes i'm doing even very-badly but recently i have been given enough breathing room to say okay, this situation is bad, but then it will be over, and you will be moving onto the next thing and it's true that i need to get groceries and pay rent and argue with my health insurance but it is also true that in the absolute stress and anarchy of my life today someone recognized my dog before they recognized me and was so excited because "they tell everyone about the greyhound in the area and didn't get a picture before so can they take a picture now please"

in class we all stand in a circle and are all grown adults and for a moment while the teacher is figuring something out, we all hold hands, just to be silly and connected. for no reason at all at 8pm on a thursday my friends and i start breaking out the dance moves to high school musical. my coworker gchats me during a meeting about the book he recommended to me and i'm enjoying reading

i help a high school set up for a star-themed dance and while putting up streamers i find graffiti that says if you're reading this, i love you, and we're both going to get out of here right next to fuck everyone, live out of spite, don't let the fuckers make you die. on the bridge where i walk my dog someone has written i love you and on the sidewalk in chalk someone has written i love you and on the side of the water tower someone has written i love you

at the bottom of a text post an internet poet says - i love you, i love you, i love you. i've never met you, i love you because you exist and we exist together. and isnt that enough for now. just for this moment, i mean. like, if you just close your eyes and breathe - somewhere, across this world, i love you, because you're here with me.

#writeblr #pos #i am actually not doing well at all but the spring is bringing hope back at least lol

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egophiliac · 1 year

Note

so we know you love diasomnia endlessly, but who is your favorite character from each of the other dorms

this is SO hard to answer, because so many of the characters are, like, those pet adoption ads that say "MUST STAY TOGETHER, CANNOT BE SEPARATED". it's all about the relationship dynamics! and I think everybody in the main cast is pretty neat, honestly; there isn't anyone who doesn't have something I really like about them. but if I haaaaad to choose...

Hearts - Trey, partly because I do like me a good Mom Friend�� character, and partly because he pretends like he's all sane and normal, right up until he does something to prove he's just as much of a dipshit as everyone else. you're not immune, sir.

Savana - BUFF 👏 TSUNDERE 👏 WEREWOLF 👏

Octa - this one took a lot of soul-searching, because I do feel like the Octatrio is at their very best when it's all three of them, especially when they're in full Ed Edd n Eddy mode. but in the end, Jade ekes out a win, because sometimes you get this Jade:

and then when he gets back from his nice mushroom-foraging hike, you get this Jade:

Scara - Kalim, my sweet little moron. such a good heart, so few braincells.

Pome - 90% of the time when Rook shows up, you know it's going to a be fun time watching a silly little man dance around and break into song for no reason and wax poetic about the beauty of, like, a chair. always a delight!

except every once in a while, he'll bust out something that is absolutely insane even by Twst standards:

this isn't a complaint, it's just. why is he like this. I want to study him under a microscope, except I'm afraid of what I might find.

Igni - MUST STAY TOGETHER! CANNOT BE SEPARATED! ...but I would probably go with Ortho, just because right now I'm pretty invested in his Learning Emotions story arc and looking forward to seeing it progress. he's a good boy who will post your cringe fanfic publicly if you annoy him

...and at this point I'm calling technicality because the ask says "other dorms", and I genuinely do not think I could choose between the Dia boys at this point. let's see how episode 7 goes first!

#art #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland spoilers #twisted wonderland episode 6 spoilers #long post #obligatory disclaimer that this is my own personal opinion et cetera #what it comes down to is that i'm going to love EVERYBODY and you can't stop me!#it REALLY is all about the dynamics though #i don't talk about them as much but i really do love the riddle-trey-cater and riddle-trey-che'nya friendships especially #and i KNOW i've talked about idia and lilia being unintentional bffs before #and i'm going to stop here before i just start listing off every possible character interaction and why i like it #what up it's a day ending in y which means i got feelings about anime characters again #sorry this is somehow even less coherent than usual #i was like 'i'll do a couple of drawings for this' and then looked up and it was 4 am somehow #this keeps happening dagnabbit

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leclsrc · 1 year

Text

reciprocate ✴︎ mv1

genre: 18+, pwp, very very filthy, fem!reader

word count: 4.5k

You have trouble maintaining your vow of Max celibacy when you’re on vacation together. (part 1 here)

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+ because… sexual tension like tons, dirty talk, masturbating, descriptions of sex, kissing, SEXUAL TENSION.

hope you like it everyone! :) req’d and i was gonna make this a drabble, but it kinda grew. kind of gives way for a part 3, so lmk if u would wanna read thaaat...?

You’re bored more than several times over the dry, chilly stretch of winter break.

With not much to do, you’ve taken to traveling before you settle back into reporting on what different teams are doing to prepare for March. It’s all car prep, helmet design, new advancements, some drama on budget breaches. But that all comes in the condensed end of February, so now you’re wandering around, aimless.

The invite comes after Christmas and before New Year’s. It’s also last minute, and you would’ve normally rejected it, but Lissie had managed to convince you despite yourself, so you text Daniel a thumbs-up, greenlighting his proposition to jet off to Monaco.

“I’m starting to think I should’ve just said no,” you mutter, dumping a bundle of clothes into your suitcase. Across you, equally busy, Lissie scoffs.

She looks up from where she’s busy folding something, then, “In what universe would anybody want to pass up on a free Monaco trip where we can spend the entire week drinking our body weight in cocktails and swimming it off?”

You laugh, nodding in semi-agreement. It’s not Monaco, you want to tell her. It’s because everybody’s going, even Max. “You’re right,” you say instead, making a show of being excited.

It didn’t seem the slighest bit sane to be going on a non-work trip where Max was going to be around. Your first tryst, barely a month ago, before the grand prix in Abu Dhabi, had given way to three days straight of retiring to his room, foregoing afterparties, and then, after deciding to go to one, sneaking back off and fucking in his room after just an hour of dancing.

Max is just as insatiable as you are, and it scares you—because it took every ounce of resistance from you to sit him down and affirm the statement that the constant sex was a bad idea. Outside of his room, outside his bed, you two still maintained the same caustic relationship, but the sex became like clockwork, and you could tell it wasn’t the best idea.

“We need to stop the sex,” you’d said, setting it down firmly. “It’s—it’s getting in the way of work.”

“It really isn’t. You still have no problem calling me out after races and then getting fucked less than an hour later,” he said.

“I’m serious, it is. And if not now, it will.”

He’d shrugged. “Fine.”

“It’ll be easy,” you’d said sharply. “For me, at least.”

It feels like cosmic karma, then, when you’re told by Lissie that Max’s room is beside yours.

—

Almost funnily, Max’s is the first face you see after you’ve settled in your hotel room. You see him first, and then notice he’s joined by Daniel and Lando, at the bar near the beach where everyone else in your little group is hanging out. You make eye contact that you tear away from instantly, willing yourself to ignore him.

Daniel notices you first when you show up to order yourself a drink. “Swam yet?”

“Nope,” you say. “Think I’ll join the girls and tan today.”

“Just glad you finally accepted the invite,” Daniel comments. “Lissie told me you almost bailed for some weird reason.”

Your eyes dart over to Max, who’s drinking whiskey. He’s already looking at you, gaze cutting. You clear your throat and look away. “I thought it wouldn’t be the best idea, but I’m about three drinks away from loving it here.”

The small talk continues, and you even get your drink, but eventually Daniel and Lando are too enticed by the sunset water, running off and yanking their shirts off on the way. You shuffle nervously on the barstool, just two seats apart from Max.

“You’re here the whole week?” He asks, not looking at you.

“I am,” you say, leveling his tone of nonchalance.

He makes a noise of petty disapproval, leaning back. From where you sit, you get fleeting glimpses of how he looks, and it isn’t helping your vow of celibacy. He’s big, which, while you knew this, still sends a throb of arousal through you. The tight tee he wears does nothing to hide what’s underneath, and his arms give you the impression that he could just throw you onto a bed or slam you against a wall like it’s nothing.

(Two things you could personally attest to, but that’s besides the point.) You’ve only just begun to get used to not having sex with him, but you’re starting to think you should get on the next flight off, because the thoughts creeping into your head of his hands, his tongue—

A cry of your name grabs your attention, and you blink, turning your head. Farther up the beach, Lissie and Lily are waving their hands around, calling you. “Let’s swim!” Lissie orders. “Now!”

“Bit busy there, were you?” Max asks, smirking.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, downing the rest of your cocktail and jogging over to your friends. Absently, you hear him chirp another teasing remark behind you—hope you drown. The abrasive remark lets the remainder of your scandalous thoughts filter out for the time being. You’re positive, though, that they won’t be gone for the whole two weeks.

You stop in front of Lissie to undo the clip in your hair when Lily asks nonchalantly: “Why’s Max staring at your ass?”

“Lil, oh m—” You swat her playfully. “Don’t just say things like that!”

“Sorry! Jesus. It was a serious inquiry. Guy’s eyes are glued. Don’t you hate each other?”

You resist the urge to turn around and maybe get in a dig of your own, but clear your throat and shrug. “You’re hallucinating. I’m sure he’ll have some random girl in his hotel room later tonight, anyway.”

You don’t miss the way Lily’s face is still etched with lack of conviction, but you tug her toward the beach anyway, splashing around and playing frisbee with the Daniel, Charles, and Lando. At some point, talk of clubbing arises through the six of you, and at Lando’s insistence, you all agree to meet up somewhere to get hammered later. A warm Monegasque welcome, Charles had dubbed it.

A sluice of nerves slide across you when you hear Charles relay the idea to Max, and the latter reply with a fuck yes count me in.

You learn a few short hours later that Monaco lives up to its predestined reputation as a nightlife beast, greeting you with vigor and sophistication. You’d been here before, but mostly for work—the immense drinking, dancing, and occasional drug is still a novel experience. Evidently, though, the drivers have little trouble settling into it, accepting and ordering shots and extravagant bottles like they’re nothing.

You’re off work, you figure, and you have no concrete responsibilites tied you as of the moment, so why not join in?

Lissie is drunkenly slurring something into your ear, about how some guy is flirting with her but he’s a 6 at best and maybe I should just make out with him to make him feel better hey wait maybe he’s an 8 actually no 9, maybe 9.5 max—no he’s a 10 I’m fucking him bye, and Lily is pissed, likely being taken care of by Alex.

Charles had upheld a promise to remain sober, but said nothing of bringing a girl home, which he’d successfully pulled off just twenty minutes ago. Lando’s obviously busy spinning the tunes at the DJ booth behind you, howling with excitement every time he plays something he likes. Which, you realize, leaves you with Daniel.

You fix the hem of your tiny dress, throwing back another shot. Your tolerance doesn’t allow for alcohol to permeate fast; it goes slowly, and never results in too much of a headache, thank the Lord. You’re pleasantly buzzed, but you want more courage, more gravitas. A timely wish, considering you haven’t quite learned how much of a party monster Daniel is.

He leans in closer. “I bet you three shots of vodka you’re not kissing someone tonight.”

“I’ll take the opposing side,” you say, laughing. “Nobody here is doing it for me.”

“A gentleman’s agreement!” He hollers, waving a passing waiter over and ordering shots for people to share.

Although you’re in a roped off area of the club, there are still people walking around and crowding the area, including a girl who’s seated on Daniel’s lap. She whispers something mumbled and low into his ear, and you roll your eyes at his equally flirty response, pinching her thigh and kissing her neck.

He turns back to you after, like it’s a casual conversation. “How can nobody ‘do it for you’ in a Monaco nightclub, man?”

There’s a question you can answer, but woefully won’t. You change the subject instead, cupping two shots. “How about you and I just do three shots each?”

“Make it four,” he says challengingly. “And take a hit.”

“Already did, Danny,” you refute. You’d smoked half a joint before drinking anything, not wanting to get too caught up in the crossfade. You’re half sure somebody in the group took molly, but your mouth is zipped all the same. “Come on, four shots.”

“Up, up,” he pauses, thinking. “Two shots of Patron vodka—and two of Clase Azul.”

Agreeing, you search for the liquor on the lit-up table, throwing the vodka back with relative ease and then standing up to do the last two. You stumble when you place the glasses back on the table, shaking hands with Daniel and moving about to shake off the alcoholic taste in your mouth.

You pass by Lando, and he flips you off from his place at the DJ booth, but eventually you meander your way to the bar instead, wedging yourself into an empty alcove that only houses a storage room door. It’s quieter, and here you can start to feel the alcohol in your system. You lean back against the wall, and just as you wished, a guy eventually approaches you.

He’s cute(ish), tall(ish), and charming(ish), and even in your hazy mind he registers as passable and definitely way too drunk and overconfident to be approaching somebody as hot as you. His arm wraps around you, toys with the flimsy strap of the minidress you’d worn today. His accent is clearly touristy and American when he asks, “What, bored tonight?”

“Little bit,” you say lowly, leaning back and letting your lips curl up into a smile. “Nothing is really exciting.”

He hums drunkenly. “I could be exciting. Show you something exciting.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” you say, playing into him. “Tell me more.”

“I could tell you lots of things in my hotel room.” He smiles. “Don’t you want to have fun?”

“She’s had plenty, mate,” a voice unmistakably Dutch says, and pride wells up in you for having had your plan succeed so beautifully. You blink, reaching an arm out to gently push the guy out of the way—and meet eyes with the one behind him. Taller, broader, and evidently more sober than either of you, Max looks pissed (more than usual, at least.) “Piss off.”

“Christ, had I known she had a boyfriend, I wouldn’t’ve approached, man. Let’s all be calm.”

Max waves him off dismissively and approaches you, a glint of concern shadowing the irritance in his eyes. “This some kind of plan of yours?”

The alcohol has begun to rush through you. You’re hot, flushed all over, thinking of all the times you’d been in this position, purposely testing Max’s limits so he could test yours, albeit differently.

“Dunno what you mean,” you say. Your gaze slips downward, to the big, rough hand wrapped around the glass of whiskey. You want them on you. Then they meet his again.

“Sure,” he says, unconvinced. “You’re having a lot of fun prancing around like you’ve no responsibilities.”

“Lighten up,” you insist boredly. “It’s called a vacation. It’s for letting loose.”

“Are you letting loose enough?” He asks, suggestive.

“Max.” You lean forward, and the movement lets him see more of your chest, or what your dress allows. He coughs.

“No.” But despite himself, he’s leaning downward, too, his gaze stuck on your lips. “You told me yourself. It gets in the way of work.”

“This isn’t work,” you say, nerves hammering through you.

“Been looking after you all night, it might as well be.” His voice is cold and serious. He steps forward, effectively caging you against the wall with how bulky his frame is. “You need to be careful. I had to pry that asshole off of you.”

“What if…” You trail off, tilting your head back so you’re making searing, unbreaking eye contact. “That’s exactly what I wanted?”

You’re both frozen in place, staring up at him with the kind of coy you only get when you’re tipsy like this. Wide eyed, lip bitten, and dress riding up—this is exactly how Max likes you. Ready for him to wreck. One jerk of his knee in between your legs and you’re his. He considers other options: a light grip around your neck, or even just a hand on your waist would render you weak, too.

“You test me too much, Y/L/N.” You feel hazy from the way he says your name, in the way he always does—formal, professional, like you’re in the paddock interviewing him again. You can feel yourself growing wet.

But you’d gotten yourself into this mess. You wore this dress, took those shots, let that guy flirt with you in hopes that Max would come over and give you his time of day. Deny as you might, you know deep down this is exactly what you were waiting for. You press a palm to his stomach, feeling the hard surface there, fisting it in his shirt.

He grunts, lets his hand cover yours. “Schatz,” he says, guttural.

He lets your lips meet, but when you lean in for a proper kiss, he stands back up to his full height. One look in your eyes lets him realize you’re sufficiently sober, and he turns and walks away.

—

A volleyball hits your shoulder for the third time today.

Prior to that, it’d hit your forehead twice, putting an effective end to your beach volleyball winning streak. Beside you, Lando lets out a strangled cry of defeat.

“The volleyball legend is tapping out!” Daniel hoots from a nearby lawn chair, mimicking the racing commentators you’re all familiar with.

“Piss off,” you say. “I’m off my game, too tired.”

You wave a dismissive hand to Lily and Alex and they flash thumbs up signs. You squeeze a bottle of water into your mouth, needing release from the thoughts plaguing your mind. The events of two nights ago weigh terribly heavy, annoyingly so, on your mind.

Not Max himself, you argue. His voice. His touch. They’re so irresistible to you. The way he’d grunted out the pet name he reserved for sex, the way his hand was so much rougher, bigger than yours.

Absently, you wonder, if he hadn’t stopped it—what would’ve happened then? He must’ve been resisting his strongest demons to put an end to the flirting like that. Any other time, you think, it would’ve gone differently.

He’d crowd you against the wall, press hot, whiskey-flavored kisses to your neck. He’d drop his glass, uncaring if it shattered; he could pay for fifty of those and then some. You picture his big hands roughly feeling you up, pressing against your panties, asking if you wore them just for him. Mumbling about wanting to taste you, get on his knees and have your pussy right here, for his tongue only. You picture his fingers, nimble, yanking away the lace and pushing into your cunt, kissing your jaw, moving, moving, until you’re fully in an open-mouthed kiss, messy and dirty, just how he likes you. He’d say something mean. Do you enjoy being a slut, letting all these people watch me take care of you? You’d nod. It’s true, you do, humping his fingers and chasing release. You picture his dick, hard and thick, big like the rest of him, pressed against your bare thigh, and—

“Your gelato!” Lissie hollers crankily, waving a cone of coffee ice cream in front of you that’s begun to melt and stick to her fingers.

“Thinking of sum’in, mate?” Lando’s amused, sunglasses-clad face comes into view.

You flip him off and apologize to Lissie, attempting to enjoy your ice cream before you descend into a state of craziness. The beach day passes with additional moments of blank stares, though none to a worrying degree. Most of your friends chalk it up to you waking up late or spacing out thinking of work, thankfully.

But, at least, you think. At least this just proves that you and Max can stick to your vow of celibacy. Right?

—

Max is never usually one to eavesdrop, but when he learned from Lily earlier in the week that your room was adjacent to his, he couldn’t help but become more conscious of it. Two days of silence, the occasional TV noise, and some stumbling provide nothing, so he’s since stopped paying attention. Between you two, you’re the one always out on the shore anyway, so there’s nothing much for him to listen to.

Tonight is different.

You don’t usually make noise—and he’s generally speaking here. You’re not a loud person. Even with the aid of a mic, your voice is composed, on the edge of quiet, during paddock reports. So why can he hear you so clearly now? The walls are a bit thin, sure, but something else contributes to it.

Something else, like maybe you’re doing all this on purpose.

The shuffling on the other side of the wall grows louder, then he hears your faint, breathy whimpers. He pauses, sitting a bit more upright on his bed, curiosity piqued, anticipates something else. Your whimpers grow louder, passing through the walls with relative ease.

He could totally tune this out, maybe put on a movie, hell, leave the room for a late night walk or a drink somewhere.

But he’s rooted to his spot, listening intently, wanting to hear more of you. He hears it then, so breathy at first he almost doesn’t. Max.

Your moan. He blinks, feeling himself grow hard. Maybe he didn’t hear it right, but then he hears it again: Oh, Max. Please. Wanna, wanna—

He palms at his dick through his sweats, swearing under his breath. You sound exactly like you do when you’re underneath him, two lithe hands wrapped around his wrist, begging for release, for his tongue, for his fingers. You’d been so sure, so high and mighty when you sat him down and demanded the sex stop, but here you are fucking yourself on your fingers, moaning his name.

Barely even ashamed, he tugs his dick out, already drooling with precum. He uses it to ease the glide of jerking off. Max, you say again, louder this time, higher. He remembers your conversation clearly, your solemn voice when you told him you couldn’t ever have sex again with the way it interfered with your jobs. The way you slid in a snide remark about how it’d be an easy challenge for you.

He can’t help but be amused, fucking his fist and listening to your moans, growing in volume as you near your climax. He wants to ask if your fingers are as good as his, as his tongue, his cock. He knows you’ll say yes but think the opposite. You’ve always grown so weak around him.

Gonna cum, he hears again.

He pictures you writhing on your bed, eyes rolling back, fist half-bitten to try and silence yourself. Your thighs are probably shaking, brows knitted together, tongue lolling out—he jerks himself faster, panting, chest sweaty. It’s your last, loud moans that send him over the edge.

I’m cumming, Maxie, fuck—! He swears under his breath, cum spurting out all over his fist. He catches his breath, pursing his lips, squeezing his eyes shut. Tries to purge himself of his thoughts of how you might look right now and retreats into his bathroom.

It doesn’t work.

—

Lando personal phone 30s ago

Lissie wants her own bacardi and could you get doritos too x

And a box of condoms pls mate xx

“One more Bacardi and a bag of Doritos,” you dictate boredly. Who knew a high profile, all expenses paid vacation in one of the richest countries in the world would still entail the mandatory grocery run? “…And condoms.”

Max turns from where he’d retrieved the rum, a brow raised in question. “Sorry?”

“Lando, not me,” you defend, holding two hands up. You two had been the unlucky pair who drew short straws and were thus stuck with a long list of niche items in an empty convenience store not far from your hotel. Outside, the sun’s already gone, leaving behind traces of orange in an otherwise dark sky. The group had decided to stay nearby and drink instead of going out tonight, since you’d all been at a club basically every other night anyway.

You review each of your baskets. “Seems like this is all,” you conclude, “except the condoms, which we’ll get at the counter.”

“Did Lando specify a… brand?” Max asks, pacing to the cashier. There are already some on display, with varying features and sizes.

You recheck your phone. “Nope. Just get anything.”

“Alright, then.” Max picks up an XXL condom box and waves it around. “For Little Lando.”

Irritated, you roll your eyes. “Be reasonable, Max.”

“You said get anything!”

“You’re so annoying,” you fume. You catch sight of the cashier looking uncomfortable with the tension between you and Max and figure the situation needs to deescalate. “Okay. Fine. Whatever, just get something reasonable. Put that back.”

“I don’t know what you mean by ‘reasonable,’” he says teasingly, clearly trying to push your buttons.

“Just get a standard condom box.”

“What is a standard co—”

“Get the ones you normally use,” you say, realizing the words after they leave your mouth.

The cashier coughs.

Shrugging, Max grabs the familiar box off the shelf and tosses it, emptying both your baskets right after. His face is amused when he turns and you see him again, but you’re both wordless while the payment goes through and you exit together. The car ride back to the hotel is quiet, stuffy, and tense, your arms crossed over your chest and Max’s occupied with both of the plastic bags.

“I’m surprised you remember what condoms I use.” He says with a smug smile when you’re both in the elevator. He’s parked his car on the basement floor, so you need to get to the lobby. You watch the lights signify what floor you’re on, waiting desperately for the ground floor button to glow yellow.

Still annoyed, you humor him despite yourself. “Why’s that?”

It dings yellow right as he responds. “You’re always begging for me to cum inside you, anyway.”

The doors open but neither of you move. Max watches you grow flustered and take a deep breath. “You’re a sicko,” you declare, walking out. He follows you with a laugh, knowing he’s right.

You meet the group outside the lobby, where they’re already piling onto a yacht, big enough for everyone. It’s ridiculously huge and expensive-looking, bobbing softly by the dark water. Charles emerges from the upper tier and waves to you and Max with a goofy grin.

After you help spread and deposit the groceries on the table, you walk around, finally detaching yourself from Max’s side. Eventually drinks ebb around the group, shots and crude cocktails that are fed to you like water. Buzzed with warmth and courage, you move to the back of the boat where there’s a ladder to swim, grunting when you find Max already there.

You clench your cocktail. “What’re you doing?”

“Preparing to swim, what’s it look like?”

“Oh.” You pause. “I didn’t know you could swim.”

You down the rest of your drink, leaning against the side of the boat and watching as he sheds his shirt and jumps into the ocean. Some of the water splashes onto you, and it’s cold, sending goosebumps throughout your body. He surfaces, hair darkened from being wet and smile dopey. A few strands of hair stick up.

“Wanna join?”

“Over my dead body,” you say, taking a seat and dripping your legs instead.

“The water’s nice.”

“It’s frigid,” you counter. “You should be wearing a snowsuit, dumbass.”

“How mean,” he says, diving underneath and surfacing again. “You’re too chicken, is all.”

Emboldened, by the buzz of alcohol maybe, the music, or—most likely of all—Max’s teasing, you nod. “Chicken?”

You get up, legs dripping, and pull your shorts down, tugging your tiny tank top off right after. You’re left in your bathing suit, and watch as Max’s eyes lock onto your tits, spilling out of your bikini top. His gaze is slow on you, like it’s his first time seeing you like this.

You step onto the cool ladder to avoid jumping, your back turned to Max’s as you feel more and more of your body submerge into the freezing water. You turn, taking a seat on one of the rungs. Max swims toward you, wiping a hand over his face.

“Not a chicken. But I’m not going any lower,” you say firmly, in the water from the waist down. “It’s too cold.”

“I’m fine having you like this,” he says lowly, his voice thick with desire. He cages you in, two big hands on either side of the ladder. For leverage, your legs wrap around him. You’re so close together. After days, weeks, of resisting.

You release a shaky breath, staring at him, his shoulders, his hands.

“How’s your vacation been?” He asks, lips near your ear.

“Fine,” you say. “Fun.”

“Bring anyone to your room?” You shake your head; he persists. “So you’ve had no luck there, then?”

“None at all,” you say blatantly.

“S’that why you’ve been…” A hand leaves the ladder to squeeze your thigh. “Moaning my name while fucking yourself?”

Your eyes widen, blinking, undeniably caught. You open your mouth to formulate a defense but you can’t. “What are you talking about?”

“Aw, don’t be shy, schatz. You were the one who kept insisting we swear off sex, but I think you’re starting to miss me.”

He presses two fingers to the crotch of your bottoms, rubbing softly. It’s enough to let you whimper. “Max—”

“You keep prancing around in tiny bikinis, skirts, tops. Is it on purpose, hmm? I can’t stop thinking about claiming you. On my bed, my balcony, over any surface.”

He quickens his fingers, and you whine. It feels so good, reminiscent of how wicked he is in bed. You picture it—being bent over the side of the boat, his hands big on your waist, cock sliding in and out of you.

“Feels s’good, Max,” you breathe.

“Does it?” He asks, egging you on. You nod, gripping his wrist—your hand’s still circled around it when he yanks it away.

“But remember what you told me? Before the break?”

“I—fuck,” you mutter, frustrated. “Please.”

“They were your words, not mine, schatz,” he says, easygoing as he dives back underwater, leaving you alone and sexually frustrated. You curse lowly. It’s going to be a long rest-of-the-week.

#f1 #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen drabble #max verstappen smut #max verstappen fanfic #f1 x reader

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holllandtrash · 3 months

Note

Can you do a quick lando angst

in the kitchen | lando norris

1k words - loosely based on the song by Reneé Rapp But now it's just me And a hundred square feet of bittersweet memories

You reached for the chain around your neck, yanking it off with a harsh tug, not even bothered to see where in the kitchen it landed. Maybe it slid under the fridge or tucked away in one of the corners and wouldn’t be found until the next time Lando swept.

Regardless, it was gone.

The necklace he bought you six months after you started dating meant nothing more than the dust that layered the ground. The golden initials, LN, could rust away for all you cared.

You imagined a day where Lando tried to find the necklace. He watched you pull it off with such force, it had to be in the kitchen somewhere. You thought about him on his hands and knees, searching for the last remnant of your relationship until finally, weeks later, he’d come across it covered in a layer of crumbs and grime.

What would he do with it?

Would he throw it out? Or would he just hold onto it, on the off chance that you came back for it, for him? Would he stand there in the kitchen and ask himself what went wrong?

You used to dance in that kitchen. You in one of his shirts, Lando in a quadrant hoodie with the matching crew socks. He’d spin you under his arms and you’d laugh as he fought not to slip on the tiled floor. Quiet music would play through the bluetooth speaker sitting at the edge of the counter and the only light to guide your movements flooded in dimly from the hallway.

You used to cook together in this kitchen. Side by side, breakfast, lunch and dinner when his obligations didn’t whisk him away. You’d argue over the good cutting board because even though there were three other perfectly good cutting boards tucked away in the cupboard, it was more fun for Lando to pinch your sides and tuck you into his chest as your laughter filled the confined space, it was a sound Lando easily became accustomed to.

There was a point when he would do anything to hear it, to be the reason your face lit up and that breathtaking melody passed through your lips. He loved to be the reason for your laugh, your smile, all of it.

He told you he loved you for the first time in that kitchen.

It was during the winter break, a week or two before Christmas and you had just gotten back from a holiday party one of your friends hosted. As you were in the process of sliding your jacket off, you verbalised those worrying thoughts you had about still not being able to find a gift for his parents, something you had been muttering about for a few days and you expected the same response when you turned to face Lando. Don’t worry, we still have time.

But he stood there in the kitchen, twisting one of the rings on his finger and staring at you with a look he had never given you before. The only way you could describe it was new. Like Lando had a fresh set of eyes and he was looking at you in a way he had never been able to before tonight.

“What?” You asked, trying to figure out what was going through that head of his. Usually, you could. You knew him better than he knew himself.

But you didn’t expect him to reach for your hand and pull you into his chest. Your arms wrapped around his waist as you stared up at him. The lack of light in the flat didn’t falter your ability to see him so clearly, it never did.

“I love you,” he whispered, so quietly you almost didn’t hear him. The corner of his lips tugged upwards and he nodded, like he was happy with those words, proud that he finally got them out. “I love you,” he repeated.

He loved you.

At that point, he did. He meant those words and you didn’t doubt it.

Now? You wondered if the times he did say it, he said it absentmindedly before walking out the door, like he had to remind himself how he felt about you, like he needed to say those words for you, not because he wanted to.

You didn’t dance in that kitchen anymore, you hadn’t in months.

You didn’t cook together, relying on delivery apps or eating at separate times.

You didn’t laugh anymore.

Those words, ‘I love you’ hadn’t been spoken out loud in twelve days. You counted.

You stopped saying it first, waiting to see if he would take it upon himself to not be the response, but you had too high of expectations for him. Lando stopped telling you that he loved you the second you stopped telling him.

Did he even realise it? That you had pulled away, that you stopped meeting him at the door to kiss him, stopped dragging him into the kitchen to dance with you. All of those moments, those sweet intimate moments that once meant so much to both of you, had vanished.

If he noticed, he didn't say anything.

If he noticed, why didn't he say anything?

Why was he still not saying anything?

Why were you just staring at each other? Why were there tears streaming down your face while he just stood there? Why wouldn’t he just tell you that he loved you? When did he stop loving you?

When did he stop loving you?

And when did you stop loving him?

You looked away first, maybe you were looking for the necklace for a quick second or maybe you just couldn’t take that distant stare anymore. He wasn’t looking at you like you were brand new. His eyes were tired, drained. They carried no love for you.

Without a word, you stepped away from him, mind and heart empty but that’s how the kitchen felt for months now anyway. Four cutting boards just seemed like too much. The music was too loud. This 100 square feet of space was too dark for you to find any sort of comfort anymore.

There was nothing there for you to hold onto.

It was just a kitchen.

- this is not edited im sorry if theres mistakes - also sorry i havent written in a hot minute i love u

#lando norris x reader #lando x reader #lando norris x y/n #f1 one shot #lando norris one shot #driver scenarios with em

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therapycat21 · 7 months

Text

All Right Now Part 2

Travis Kelce x Famous!Reader Description:The reader catches the eye of famous footballer Travis.

Warnings: None Social Media AU

It’s been a week since the incident at Arrowhead and Travis is still actively liking my posts but has not reached out yet. I'm taken from my thoughts by an incoming call from my manager Stacy.

“Hey y/n” she smiles brightly into the screen at me “hey, whats going on?” I ask her “they just had a major cancellation for the arrowhead stadium and need someone who can quickly put something together, they reached out so I thought I would check with you to see if you are comfortable doing this last minute?” I haven't done a concert in a while so why not I thought “yeah I can figure something out, when is it?” I ask her smiling.

“It’s gonna be this Saturday” she let’s me know before we talked a bit more before hanging up. I then open Instagram to start making a post to announce it to the fans.

Not even a second after posting it went viral and started to trend on twitter. I then get a notification

Killatrav added your post to their story!

I clicked on the notification to see he did indeed add my post to his story with the caption. "Tickets have been bought ;)" I blush before liking the story and decided to look through his account, it only consists of ads, and funny clips from a podcast he has with Jason, and pictures of him dressed really nice. I decided to like his recent posts and click my phone off before I do anymore damage. I guess I'm performing at the stadium now. I smile before I rush off into contacting everyone for the concert.

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

Saturday Morning

The day is finally here, I've been up since 5 am getting myself together to head over to the stadium for the show tonight, trying to remember the setlist and dance moves. Stacy knocks on the room door in the stadium "everything is all set, you ready?" she questions knowing I can get really bad nerves before a show. I smile, it reaching my eyes for the first time in a long time "surprisingly I am"

I laugh “okay good, I’m gonna go and head to my seat, you’re gonna do amazing” she tells me before reaching to open the door. Before she leaves she quickly lets me know “oh by the way, kylie, Jason, and Travis are here in the V.I.P box.” she smirks at me before finally closing the door. My face formed into shock knowing they actually came, especially Travis, I take a deep breath and try to calm my nerves

“You’re gonna do amazing”

“You always kill it”

“You've worked hard to get here”

I keep telling myself the three before I’m interrupted by the door opening and them letting me know it is time for me to start heading to the stage.

I quickly start to head over to the stage and see all of the dancers starting to get into position, I can hear the crowd starting to scream from the lights starting to move, I’m then handed my microphone and decide to talk to them before they can see me

“let’s talk some nonsense yall”

I hear the crowd scream even louder before I’m finally revealed. I smile brightly “hello my loves” I laugh before the intro to my son nonsense comes on. Every time I sing this song I always make up a new outro depending on the state I’m in. We’re now near the end of the song, and they turn the music down slightly so we can hear the fans better

“How quickly can you take your clothes off pop quiz” I smirk slightly before turning to where I see Travis staring at me smirking “raise your hand if you’re a little tipsy, sex with me is like joining the swim team, Travis is my favorite Kansas City” I blush profusely from him breaking out into laughter and seeing the blush rise on his face. The crowd screams even louder now knowing he’s there.

I see the crowd now facing up where the Kelce family is and taking pictures and videos. I laugh loudly into the mic before transitioning into the next song.

I can feel his eyes on me the entire show and for some reason my confidence was skyrocketing tonight and I didn’t hide that I was looking back at him with the best sultry look I could muster up. The show is now ending and the stage goes black before soft pink hues go through the stadium and the back screen lighting up with my new album announcement.

I hear the crowd scream even louder before saying my goodbyes and running off stage.

I reach the back where Stacy and Brittany are and take a few deep breaths, trying to calm my adrenaline "you were absolutely amazing, oh my god you killed it" Brittany says running up and pulling me into a hug. I hug her back before I'm pulled into another hug by Stacy "You did so good girl!" I thank them both before we're interrupted by security.

"Miss y/n? there is a Kylie Kelce here wanting to see you, she says she's your friend?" I smile brightly at the security guard Jared "oh yes please bring her and the family back please." Jared gives me a brief nod before walking away to allow them in.

"you know that means Travis is gonna come back too right?" I can hear the smirk on Brit's face, I give her a look "yes I know, but for some reason tonight I am feeling good and confident, that has not happened in a long time especially towards a man." I reply with a teasing smile.

We’re interrupted by the door opening and Kylie slightly jogging to me with both girls with her.

When she gets close by we pull each other into a hug with the two girls trying to hug my waist. I let her go then bending down to pull both girls into a hug “hello my pretty mama’s ” I kiss both of their heads before letting go and standing straight to also greet Jason “you were absolutely amazing mama” Jason tells me pulling me into a deep hug, he is literally a bear. He lets me go, walking around to sit with kylie and the kids.

I’m then faced with a smirking Travis “I liked the shout-out” he tells me, I smile bright but with a giant blush rushing through my face “I thought you would” I smirk back at him.

He looks over at the others before moving slightly into more of my space, me having to look up pretty far to see his face “if you want I can show you how much of your favorite I can be” he almost whispers to me with him leaning slightly down with a giant smirk. If I thought I was blushing a lot before it is even worse now. I try to calm myself before replying “I bet you could” I try to whisper back, looking up at him smirking.

“So tomorrow night at 6:30?” he asks smiling “pick you up?”

I look back slightly at Brittany, her giving me a giant teasing smile and a thumbs up, I turn back

“Definitely” I smile bright.

#travis kelce #travis x reader

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hauntedhokage · 9 months

Text

laundry day

Eijiro Kirishima/Fem!Reader

word count: 2k

summary: Laundry day was one of his favorite days of the week for a few reasons. A broken washing machine in your apartment requiring a trip to a laundromat wasn’t going to ruin that for him.

warnings: public sex, fingering, needy!Kiri, references to past (probably painful) quirk mishaps, unprotected sex, Kirishima is a talker

ao3 link

“Why don’t you sort your clothes?” you grumble, sifting through the laundry bag he carried in to see if there were any more white shirts hiding in there. You’d already found three, you were certain there’d be more. There was always one more.

“Why is it now a problem?” he asks from where he sits atop one of the folding tables, watching as he was told while you load the washing machines. “Didn’t care last week.”

“Last week the washer wasn’t broken on laundry day.”

“So?”

“So at home I can just throw the next shirt I find into the machine. Here the door locks when it starts washing so I can’t do that and I’d like to protect your white clothes while not paying extra to wash them.”

“If these,” he lifts a pair of your red panties and swings them around his finger, “turn one of my shirts pink, then I’m not complaining. It’ll probably remind me of your p-”

“Stop right there.”

“I was gonna say panties, before you get yours in a bunch.” The teasing only has you slamming the washer door shut, rolling your eyes as he laughs while slingshotting your panties into the other machine that already had some of his clothes in it. “Relax, baby, it’s laundry day!”

“Not as fun when we’re not at home, Eijiro.”

“You’re working too hard, that’s all.” And he wasn’t helping, so go figure. The busy pro hero had not done the laundry since you’d moved in together - that was happily taken on as your task since he always managed to do the dishes even after long days of work keeping the streets clean and free from villany. The busy pro who always tried to take laundry day, or at least the morning of laundry day, to stay home since the rule was “everything worn gets washed” which meant he got to watch you walk around the apartment naked while he also lounged around in the buff.

The washing machine breaking the other day, and your darling pro hero boyfriend’s tired attempt at fixing it only making it worse, is why you had to be in the laundromat and washing clothes while fully clothed.

“Do you work later?”

“Trying not to, but anything can happen.”

You nod at that, holding your hand out for more coins and looking over when he only put his hand in yours to hold it. The relaxed smile on his face eases all the tension in your body almost immediately; and you squeeze his hand with a smile of your own as he puts the coins in for you, bringing your knuckles to his lips for a kiss as you start the machine.

“Not very chivalrous of me to let you do all the work here, when it’s kinda my fault we have to be here.”

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” you promise, leading him back towards the folding table you’d made your base camp for the morning. He lifts you onto it with ease, standing between your legs and resting his head on your chest. He hadn’t styled his hair this morning so the bright red locks laid flat against his head, making it easy for you to run your fingers through his hair and scratch at his scalp without getting product under your nails.

“'M sorry I messed up the washer.”

“All good, the thing was going out anyway. The new one gets delivered on Monday, and we’ll be back to normal.” Your reasoning is met with a hum, his fingers ghosting along the skin of your thighs left uncovered by your shorts. It’s an innocent touch, but quickly turns less than when those nimble digits dance their way under the loose material along the inside of your thighs.

“Eijiro, we’re in public.”

“We’re alone, baby, ‘n I wanna say sorry:”

“You can say sorry at home.”

“Not fun.” He’s pouting at you now, trying to play at your weaknesses while his fingers stay just barely away from your mound. “C’mon, baby, it’ll be okay. Just wanna take care of you for taking such good care of me. Just my fingers, promise.”

There were many ways that this could go wrong. He couldn’t “just” finger you, he was too eager to please and once he got a taste of you he could never stop. Not until you were thoroughly spent and requiring that he stopped so you could breathe. But you couldn’t fight the pout, nor could you argue with the desire that he’d stirred up with his fingers alone.

“Just your fingers?”

“I promise, and you know a chivalrous hero never breaks a promise.”

He hadn’t yet, and that has you nodding while leaning in to kiss him. The grin on his face is nothing short of victorious, his fingers finding their place between your folds and finding that your body had chosen long before you did.

“Already wet, and you didn’t wear panties. I’d say you wanted to get fucked in the laundromat this morning.”

“My body knows that laundry soap means I’m about to get dicked down, that’s all.”

“Mhm. I’m sure my big muscles carrying both of the baskets in one trip had nothing to do with it.”

“You caught me.” Your hand coming up to grip one of those biceps when two fingers push into your wet pussy with ease only has him smirking, pushing his forehead to yours to ensure he didn’t miss a single indication of pleasure in your face. “I do love your big muscles, Eiji.”

“Yeah, I know. What do you want for lunch?” His fingers move inside you as he poses the question, thumb carefully grazing over your clit which has you gasping before you can answer. “ I don’t think ‘ah!’ is food, baby.”

Your witty counter is just a whispered “shut up”, as he’s bringing a third finger to join the other two and the feeling of the stretch has your mind buffering a bit. It’d been about a week since you and Eijiro had time like this, he’d been busy and your own work had picked up a bit - two tired bodies and exhausted minds did not make for real interest in sex.

“Missed you, baby,” he whispers, nudging your nose with his own as his fingers continue their easy thrusts. “Missed you so much, I hate how much I’m working.”

“Missed you too, Eiji,” you murmur back, teeth catching his top lip as his fingers curl inside you. “But your work is important, I can handle the late nights and early mornings.”

“Not very chivalrous to leave a beautiful girl all alone in that big bed.” His thumb presses against your clit, his free hand holding your thigh open to keep his access unrestricted. “Needed her big strong hero to keep her warm, help her cum, and I was off being chivalrous to other people.”

His thumb lifts, and you try to follow but his hands keep you firmly planted in your spot at the table. This wasn’t the time to tease, but you knew he wouldn’t risk dragging this out while you were in public, it was too dangerous for that.

“I’d get on my knees for you right now if I could.” His whisper is heavy with his own need, a hiss escaping when your free hand cups the bulge in his shorts. “Baby.”

“It’s not breaking a promise if I ask, right?” your offer has him pulling back so he could properly look at you with pupils blown, lips parted - the picture of needy perfection, swallowing in anticipation when you whisper: “Please fuck me, Eijiro.”

You trusted that he wouldn’t agree if there was even a chance of being caught on camera. He was in the top ten, there was too much to lose in a scandal like this. So you knew it was safe when he nods, but you also knew that the excitement might end up being too much for him.

His hands are only slightly shaky as he pushes his shorts down just enough to free his length, and you’re thankful that your shorts only needed to be pushed to the side to allow him to line himself up with your dripping core since you didn’t want to have to scramble for them should someone come in.

Even with the prep; after two weeks without him, the stretch to accommodate feels insane. Maybe it’s the environment and the risk making you tense,which in turn was making your gummy walls akin to a vice around your sweet boyfriend, but you know by the look on his face that he’s not going to last long this time around - but he’d always deliver.

“Need a minute,” he mumbles, his hands gripping your hips as your hands carefully come up to hold his cheeks. “Can’t even begin to explain how fucking great you feel right now.”

“Just keep that quirk in check, big guy,” you whisper, earning a breathy laugh from your lover at the reminder as his hands give you a gentle squeeze. Those hands were always gentle when they touched you, holding your hips at just the right angle as he started to move inside you. The pressure of his fingertips was just right, his hips meeting yours in borderline frantic thrusts with one goal: get off before getting caught in the act. Your hand finds itself on the back of his head, fingers interwoven in the soft red locks as he kisses along your jawline. Gentle nips are soothed by softer kisses, sweet nothings whispered in between while you relish in the attention you’re getting from your beloved.

And the whole time he’s talking. Whispering to you how much he loves you, how wonderful you are, how good you feel, how badly he can’t wait to get you home and do this all over again all day until he has to stop. It’d been too long, he’d missed you and your body so much, he never wanted to go that long without you again.

“Baby, baby, fuck,” he groans, pressing his face into the crook of your neck as the grip on your hips grew tighter. The pace of his thrusts becomes uneven, one hand moving from your hip so he could rub at your clit to push you towards his desired end. “You’re so fucking good, gonna cum for me? Gonna cum so I can give you mine?”

You can only nod, your own hand tightening in his hair to keep him close while he fucks into you. You can hear the back of the table you’re perched on banging against the washing machines behind you, but you can’t hear the words tumbling from your lips into his shoulder as the coil in your gut continues to tighten.

“That’s it, baby, please please cum. Always look so pretty when you do.” His mumbles into your neck only push you closer, your heart pounding and blood rushing through your ears the only thing that you could focus on as your legs tighten around his hips. You’re biting into his shoulder when you finally topple over that edge, the release desperately needed and has your toes curling as his hips still against yours and your senses are flooded with a different warmth.

“Fuck,” you whisper, releasing his hair and gently massaging at his scalp to try and soothe whatever ache might have been left from your grip. “Needed that, baby. Needed you.”

“Yeah?”

“Pretty girl needed her big strong hero.” Your confirmation has him grinning into your neck, leaving a gentle kiss on your skin before he’s pulling back to rest his forehead against yours.

“Let's get cleaned up, baby. Wanna sit or come with me to the bathroom?”

“I’ll sit.”

He nods as he pulls out, tucking himself back into his shorts before leaving you with a kiss to your nose to go to the bathroom. You only sit for a second before you’re turning back to face where he was still heading to the bathroom.

“There was a bathroom all along!?"

#kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima x reader #kirishima smut #bnha smut #ngl squad i hate this but i'm tired of writing it so here you go #love you bye

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pinkynana · 9 months

Text

summary : when the drunk thoughts sound less like "i'm gonna dance all night in this club" and more like " i wanna suck my ex's cock"

warnings: dubcon, reader is drunk, public grinding and groping, blowjob (duh), masturbation, degradation, reader didn't get to cum

to celebrate your best friend's good news of getting a job, your small friend group decided to go clubbing. so you put on a tiny tight skirt and a crop top that shows off your cleavage as you drink your fill in the club. at first, you and your three other friends were dancing together in one spot on the dance floor. but then you turn around to see two of your friends making out with some guy and your one other friend had already gotten up to the stage where the poles are.

"oh my god.." you sighed. you left the dance floor to get more drinks because you certainly weren't in the mood to be the most sober friend and help them not to make any dumb decisions.

your eyes linger around the club, one of your friends who was making out had already disappeared and you sighed again. she was the driver. you drink more and more, eyes still wandering around the club.

until you catch the sight of your ex in one of the booths, texting on his phone. the break up was brutal. you told your ex, jisung, you wanted to break up and he pretended you never said that. he lived in your apartment, he asked to have a meal together, he offered to send you to work. it was to the point that you had to put a restraining order on him. you haven't met him since. until today.

"why does he look so hot.." you bite your nail, checking him out from afar. his hair is back to black, his natural color. it was still blue when you broke up with him. but for some reason, (maybe because you're drunk) you don't remember why you broke up with him. and you certainly don't remember how much you hated him after the break up. "should i.." the thoughts were coming. you played with your bottle as more regretful suggestions pop up in your head. "nah.. i shouldn't," you shake your head, looking away from him so the ideas would vanish.

but looking at your friend who's stripping on stage, the very friend who got a job, you decided that tonight is all about regretful decisions.

you got up from your seat, as you approached your ex. "hi." you leaned in. jisung smiled at you before replying to your greeting. "are you here alone?" you tilt your head as you asked the question.

"no, i came here with- what the fuck, where did he go?" jisung looked around the dance floor to look for his friend. you grabbed his hand. "well, now you're alone then." he knew you were drunk. it's not just the smell of liquor, it's the look in your eyes, it's the way you speak. "come dance with me," you pulled his hand as you giggled.

on the dance floor, you kept grinding yourself on him like a bitch on heat. of course jisung noticed it and of course he didn't do anything. he could only get this with your current state of mind. "you look so handsome tonight." you whispered to him as you kissed his neck. "can i suck you off?" jisung was sure you'll regret this once you're sober. you thought his silence was rejection.

"pleaseee," you palmed his bulge, giving it a squeeze. "i'll be good. didn't you like it when i have your cock in my mouth, hmm? please, jisung." you pout your lips as you plead. "right here?" jisung asked.

"let's go to my place. you like my bed, don't you?"

on the way to your house, the two of you couldn't keep your hand to yourselves. you were fully making out on the back of the cab, not caring about the driver at the front. you enjoyed the way jisung's big hands were groping your tits. he caught your moans into his mouth, probably enjoying this more than you did.

the moment you got into your room, you were already eagerly taking off his pants for him. you pushed him to lie down on your bed once his undergarments were gone. his cock was already hard from the grinding, the groping, the kissing, it was finally time for it to get the attention it deserves. "fuck, i love your huge cock so much." you wrapped your hands around it, jerking it off as you started kissing from balls to the tip. you could feel his cock twitching when you gave the tip a little kitten lick. "fuck," he moaned. that's when you finally started to put it in your mouth.

"i missed this so much, miss having you like this." you hollow your cheeks, sucking it properly. you moved your head up and down and it felt like heaven for jisung. especially because your face was showing so much pleasure just from sucking his cock. "take off your clothes, baby. wanna see you naked." you gave his cock a kiss before sitting up to strip off of your tight clothes. while you did that, jisung had already jerked himself off. couldn't stand his dick not being touched even for a second. "you look so fucking good." he praised.

you went back to sucking his cock but this time he had his hands on you, pulling your hair and thrusting up into your mouth. his moans got louder, you felt hot. so you reached down to your pussy to rub your clit. "so good to me, baby. such a good slut for me." he was fucking your face at this point.

"coming to me because i looked hot. practically throwing your body to me. i don't fucking care that you're drunk and would probably regret this whole thing tomorrow. tonight you're my slut." his degradation made you even more wet, you could hear the squelching from your pussy as you rubbed it harshly. "dumb fucking slut probably doesn't even remember she put a restraining order on me. now she's the one who invited her ex over. " jisung pushed you away, pulling out of your mouth.

you whined, chasing his cock again. "need to cum on your face." you all but pout, couldn't do anything if that's what jisung wants. as he fists his cock, you fingered yourself. you couldn't wait for his cum to pour messily on your face. and in just a few seconds, his cum landed everywhere on your face.

"so fucking hot."

#nct dream smut #nct smut #park jisung smut #jisung smut

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darkphoenix07 · 9 months

Note

Hi love if requests are still opened may I have an established relationship hongjoong oneshot where reader isolates herself frequently because of mental health and spends a lot of unwanted time in bed because she can’t muster up the courage to get up where hj helps her start her day and stuff?

Hongjong helps you as you isolate yourself often

Masterlist

Series Poll

Mental Health Request

Paring : Hongjong x Reader

Genre : Comfort, Fluff, Romance, Dance

Song 🎶: Everything I wanted by Billie Eilish and Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift

7.00 a.m.

You hear Hongjong entering the house as he parks his car in the garage. You want to get up, run towards him and hug him. You want to break in his arms feeling free as tears leave your eyes. You wish you could get up but it's too hard.

You have been lying on the bed for the whole day like a corpse. He called you a million times for having breakfast but you said you weren't hungry. He left kissing you goodbye, saying he loves you. But you didn't even say love you back. You laid there not moving a single muscle, not taking shower or having food.

Right now you can't feel your body. You don't feel like you are in this universe anymore. The pain, the anxiety, the panic attack have taken over your body suppressing everything.

"Baby, are you home?" His sweet voice echoes in the living room.

You haven't touched him for how long you don't remember. You don't know when was the last time, you kissed him, hugged him properly. Sex is far.

"Baby!" The way he calls you baby. It should pick your body up. You feel guilty for being such a prick. But you can't help. You imagine how he will leave you alone, you'll be able to lay here for the rest of your life until you actually become a corpse.

There looking for you, he enters in your room. Seeing the darkness of your room, the curtains all down, your blanket covering half of your body and you same gaze at the ceiling, he understands you haven't moved from the bed.

"Hey, are you feeling alright?" He asks entering as he touches you forehead.

"Hm," you mumble not wanting to get attacked with more questions.

But he notices how messed up your hair is though you aren't warm or cold. You are still wearing the dress from three days ago which means you haven't showered for three days.

You think of the consequences that will occur if he switches on the lights, pulls the blanket off you and starts screaming at you. What will you do?

You wait for it but the lights aren't being turned on, no screaming is around you like it used to happen in your household. Its more quite than usual that you can hear his heartbeat beside yours.

"Can I get inside?"

You would have said no. You would have pushed him away. But the way he asked you, the way he plead like he is asking foe forgiveness that you had to move slightly making space for him.

He gets inside the blanket though you know you stick as bad as a garbage can. He pulls you on his hand, "I want to have dinner outside with you or we can have a terrible cheat day. Only street foods and chocolate or ice cream. What do you say?"

You don't answer him so he looks at you with all of the love he has for you, "Or we can stay here in the bed while I sing for you. Then we can take a shower together while dancing and order dinner. I can make you some too but I am not as good as Wooyoung when it comes to cooking."

You look at him with sleepy eyes. His touch makes you realize how long you haven't slept. Maybe three days or more. It happened without any reason. You don't know why you are feeling like this life doesn't matter or why you don't want to move. You feel heartbroken, guilty for not having a single reason to tell him why you are feeling this much heavy.

"Baby. You'll become sick. I would let you stay here but you look so pale. I am worried," he says pulling you close to his chest, "You know how much I love you, right?"

You wanted to walk up a while ago. But it was just night. The ending of another day you could have spent productively that you wasted. You feel so disgusted by your own self but the man in front of you gazing at you like you are some diamond.

"I don't know what to do," that's when you speak up because you don't want to disappoint him. He has so much patience and hope for you. You understand now that if you speak up maybe he will understand but it's just too hard.

"Will you let me do something for you?" He asks kissing your forehead gently.

You don't say anything as a positive answer and he gets up, "Stay in your little paradise for some moment. I am coming back."

He says and rushes outside. After some while, you hear his car's sound. You don't understand and you forget that you should care after sometimes. You curl around hugging your blanket drowning in your dark side again.

You don't know how long it passes away before Hongjong comes, "I am going to pick you up. Okay?"

He warns you so you can say no if you want to. But you don't say anything or do anything as he cradles you up in his arms and walks outside the room. You notice the lights are all off, there is just the chandelier lighting in the living room.

As he enters in the bathroom of the room you two share, you see there are scented candles on the sink area. He doesn't stop here, he places you inside the tub filled with purple flower petals, you don't understand what flower are these. But the sudden warm water washes thrill over your whole body. You start feeling a little better from the warm water.

He helps you take off the clothes and runs outside again. You start hearing him playing Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift in the background before he enters in the bathroom again with a fruit salad bowl.

He sits outside the tub feeding you the salad, "I thought you may faint so I had to give you some food and suger."

You smile as you keep having the fruits one by one. Some little effort is all you wanted to give to feel better again but it was too hard.

"Join me," you tell him making his eyes go big.

He places the bowl on the sink and makes you stand up, "I have a better idea," and pushes the shower button. Cold water starts washing over both of you and you start giggling seeing him shiver.

It's so adorable yet fascinating how he is looking and acting right now. He holds your one hand and wraps your waist with another, "Let's dance in the rain."

"It's literally summer," you tell him as he spins you while the water of the tub splashes around dripping on the floor.

"Who cares?" He says pulling you towards him and again moving you with him. The dance, the movements, they are so messy yet perfect for your body to feel alive. It's like every cell of your body is waking up one by one.

"Kiss me," he says cupping your face in his hands and your lips find his in no time.

You wish you would have talked about your feelings to him earlier, you wish you wouldn't waste your time, you wish you would kiss him back and say love you back. But it's alright, you tell yourself. It's alright because I can do it now.

"Hongjong," you say as you wrap yourself in the towel and he looks at you.

"I love you," you tell him and his smile gets bigger than ever.

"I love you," he says and pecks you on the lips.

No, you haven't stopped feeling the heaviness yet but you have stopped blaming yourself making it look like a crime for feeling depressed without any reason. Every feeling is precious after all.

For the people who thinks your feelings aren't valid. They are.

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starillusion13 · 6 months

Note

saw the reqs are open omg!!! im thinking of badboy wooyoung (god forbid his new undercut) x reader. wooyo plays and teases her together with his friends til he crosses the line and the reader kind of gets hurt? angst to fluff i beg ❤️

I LIKE RED

Pairing: Ateez! Wooyoung x fem! reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Slice of Life

Warnings: crying, mention of physical abuse, psycho behaviour of boyfriend, teasing in university, slight mention of bullying, Wooyoung's undercut lol

W.C: 3.5k

Note: please I want to thanks to people for reading and reblogging. Reviews are always appreciated 😭. Applause to the ones who come up to me to interact and they know how friendly I am. Okay enough!

Network: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity

“Look, who we got here?”

“Wooyoung, I’m not going to repeat again. Move.”

As usual, he is not getting fazed by your cold attitude and hence, your bored face is giving him the amusement. His two bestfriends San and Yeosang finding the situation funny and three of them smirking and staring down at you.

……

You didn’t expect your university life to be dealing with these idiots everyday. It’s not like you have engaged yourself with them eagerly but somehow you and Wooyoung being in the same dance club making the things go around like this. When you got first introduced to him, you had just saw him from afar laughing with his friends and walking around the campus and boy, his laugh was so contagious that even from a distance, it brought a little smile on your face.

Everything becomes different the moment when next day, you met him, standing in front of you. An average tall boy in black pants and a loose jacket with a black tee inside, must be a black lover. Sharp jawlines highlighting the face on point along with the undercut hair, so on point that the shaved hairs above the ear and behind it shaved nicely to spot the earring more clearly, giving the face a fresh look but the shaved hairs slightly getting hidden under the rest black hairs, giving him a mysterious look. Curious eyes staring down at you, tongue licked his soft red lips and hands extended in front of you with an attitude laced in his voice.

“This is Wooyoung and what’s your name, sweetheart?”

Oh. A sweet-talker. Shaking his hands, your mind went how he had that rough outlook but his hands were so soft as if a handshake can ease your every problem.

“Myself Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

“Such a pretty name. Also, I like your dress. Its suits you so well and there’s a reason why am liking it more.”

“Thank you. And may I know why?”

“No.” And with this, he patted your cheeks with two fingers and making a clicking sound with his tongue and teeth, he winked at you and left you there, standing at the corridor. You didn’t know what did just happen. Like the introduction was normal but then if he didn’t want to tell you the reason so why giving a hint that he likes your dress for a reason. Quickly, you went to the washroom to check if there was any problem with your outfit but all you could see was your reflection just the same as when you left the house in the morning.

It’s not possible for that boy with the dark aesthetic to like such a bright dress.

…….

Now, it was a part of your daily routine to cross paths with him during the breaks between classes. You both only had few practical classes together and also it was usual to meet at the club meetings. The unusual part was him to be always being close to you, even people assumed you both to be a couple. ‘An innocent girl and a bad boy’ He himself even teased you several times along with his bestfriends but your reaction was simple just to glare at them, which was rather stupid to them, cute to him. It didn’t bother to his reputation of being the popular guy in the campus or him flirting with some girls even when he got to hear questions from some whether he is really dating you or not. He always laughs at this question and sometimes run around the campus just to know your whereabouts so that he can annoy you. Just like the way he is doing now.

“Why are you always telling me to move or…like you just ignore me the way as if you can’t even see me?”

“wooyoung, look don’t act like we are close. You know I won’t be giving in like other girls so better move aside.”

“Bad girl. Why are you being mean to me?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Don’t pretend to be a good girl. Wooyoung is just being nice to you, nothing else. You both are paired up in for the dance competition so he is just trying to be friends with you.” San states while referring to his friend who is still trying to block your way from going to the next class.

“You know that even if we are paired doesn’t mean that we need to be friends and we can have this conversation only during the practices that’s it.”

That’s on cut, you push him and run away from the scene. Wooyoung tries to call you but end up laughing with his friends.

Arriving to a classroom, you take heavy breathes and lean to the wall. You didn’t have to run away from him like the way as if he was a killer with his gang. Atleast, he is not the one but the one who would judge the situation is.

You still remember those moments when these three had teased you a lot of times in the corridors. Either them flirting with you or spreading news that you are dating one of them or telling people rumours about you staying with them at nights but the second you get them in your hand, you would scold them but nothing can change the fact that they are deaf to your shouting. Mostly, Wooyoung who is the main cause of all these hurdles in your life. He is always the one who has to start such commotions every day. You don’t know why but apart from you being in a pair in dance class, he still tries to be close with you other times but only to tease you and make you run some errands for him. He and his friends would make you sometimes do a lot of their works but if you deny sometimes then they would make sure to threat you with your scholarship. To be in the good books of everyone, you are agreeing with everything, even with the dark life of yours.

And as you thought before, there is always one who would judge the situations in a different way.

“So, you were again with him. Had fun? Kissed yet?”

“M-Mark?”

“What? Didn’t expect me here or you are disappointed that you can’t spend time with that lover boy?”

“Mark, that is not the thing. He was just informing me about the dance practice schedules and-“

“Shut up.” Mark comes near to your form, eyes daringly watching how your body tensed up with his every step. He caged you in between him and the wall with his one hand resting beside your head and other one on your cheeks, “baby, why are you so afraid of me? It’s not like I’m going to hurt you. Do I ever hurt you?”

You remain silent. Lips quivering, eyes trembling and tears slide down your cheeks. A silent tear with storm of helplessness. Your whole-body trembling under his touch, remembering his previous tortures on you one by one.

“Now, we don’t want a bad girl here, right?” Bad girl. Wooyoung calls you this everytime whenever you glare at him when he teases you the times when you try to ignore him but he is not letting you to go until he has annoyed the hell out of you.

Mark slaps you. Your weak body couldn’t keep the balance and ended up on knees, getting hurt in the elbow during this. Mark bends down to hold your face upwards to look at him, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Why didn’t you answer yet? Is it so hard to tell whether I have hurt you or not? Yes or no.”

“No. You never hurt me.”

He yanks your hair and you grunt on the pull, burning your scalp. Your eyes are bloodshot because of the pressure and the way you are suppressing your cry, a cry for lost war.

“That’s a lie. I have just now hurt you and you are getting more punishments later for lying to me.”

He got up from the space and dusts his clothes. Glancing at you, he rolls his eyes and calls someone. After having some few conversations with the person on the other line, you know that’s Haechan asking him about their father’s business deals. Your cheek is burning but what about it, you are used to getting this treatment. Your once lovey-dovey boyfriend is now a psycho. Once, when a topic of breaking up with him had arisen since then he is acting like a maniac to keep you with him and now supporting his every behaviour has led down to this. Getting treated like a prisoner, atleast he allows you to come to university as you are always locked up in the suffocating house. The house is big but wherever you are with him, it’s a prison to you now, which was once a paradise you dreamed of.

“get up. Don’t overreact and don’t ever dare to miss the class. No one is going to pay for your semester fees if you fail this. You have only got the scholarship because I was your tutor in highschool so just go and attend the lectures.”

He was your tutor and that was how, you fell in love with him. How much you regret to have him as your tutor back then! You were so grateful for him to be by your side but now its sinful.

He went out without glancing at you twice. If he going to treat you like this then why keeping you with him. Obsession. He is obsessed with you. Somehow, even in this situation, your thoughts wander around how one day, wooyoung asked you in between your errands about your hand injury but you waved it off. I should have told him the truth. Why? You sometimes feel this urge to open up yourself to him because you find him a comforting person despite his teasings.

“You know you should break up with him? We can be better together?”

“Who?”

“Of course, I’m talking about Mark Lee. If there is someone else then I don’t know about him, honestly but you look like a good girl to do such things.”

“what? What such things?”

“Being in relationship with more than one.”

“You don’t know what I do or might be doing in my private life so don’t be a nosy person right now.”

“Oooooh, that’s sexy. My bad girl is interesting.” His bad girl and somewhere you liked the way he just mentioned you.

One moment he is being a friendly and understanding one with you but the next moment he will be returned to its actual self, having fun with everything all around and make you feel you are not a special person to him, you are just a part for him to make fun of.

What big expections you have with your life! You literally hate him then why thinking of getting close to him.

Mark’s daily abuse is getting out of hand these days because of him Wooyoung and that’s why you ignore him as much as possible just not to get in trouble but still a part of you wants to run to him. Why? Because apart from his teasing, he is the only one who actually let you show your mad expression when he has crossed his limits, to make you listen to his absolute nonsense but you enjoy hearing some out of world gossips than harsh insults from mark and many other things wooyoung make you feel, which make you believe you deserve a better life, a life where you can smile, laugh naturally, not laughing with a fear of someone watching you everytime.

“That’s it. We can keep the practice till here. We have two more weeks and we have already covered the whole dance, just a few more practices and we will be the one getting the winner’s trophy.”

You just nod on his words. You can rarely hear his words because your wide eyes looking down at the sweating palms holding your phone, showing 10 missed calls from your boyfriend, Mark. You are dead. This should not have happened if you previously hadn’t silenced the phone to not get distracted during the practice. It’s weird to be in a dance club when your boyfriend doesn’t appreciate such things, right? No. According to him, it would make you stay fit and strong but he doesn’t know that even if you are physically okay, mentally you are the weakest.

“Y/N, are you listening to me?”

You didn’t reply. You haven’t heard so how could you. You feel hands on your shoulder which break your trance of thinking all the negative situations to be faced after you will reach your place. Your wide teary eyes stare back at wooyoung who was looking at you in confusion.

“Y/N?”

“Wooyoung, I need to leave. I have to go. Right now.”

Your panicking state doesn’t go unnoticed by him and when you were collecting your things in hurry, he grips your hand to turn you around and you stare into his eyes, your panic rises when you realise if mark sees you like this with him then something like previous torturing days would repeat again.

…….

“If I walk around the campus like this, will your boyfriend be angry or just have faith on you and let it slide that we are friends?”

“wooyoung, move your hand. People might think us of something else. I’m already under so many gossips and I don’t want to add up to it.”

“Why are you always so eager to be in good books of everyone? Be yourself, Y/N. Fuck what people are thinking about you without any proof. I’m just asking about your boyfriend’s reaction. Also, I hope your boyfriend tells you the same thing about you too.”

I hope too. I hope my boyfriend would have been like the way he was, just the way you always playing around and like before being a polite and gentle boyfriend but he is a different person now. A literal doppelganger of his past.

You harshly push wooyoung and glare at him. He was taken aback by your sudden attitude but he had noticed your sudden change in attitudes for a while now. He had noticed the fear in your eyes whenever he asks you about your boyfriend. Ignoring his worst thoughts, still he believed on the positive side and annoys you.

“Don’t touch me like this in public or in private ever like this. Only my boyfriend is allowed to touch me and no one less.”

That’s how you left him there, standing and watching your figure disappearing when you took a turn.

You somewhere hoped to shout on your boyfriend like this not to touch you ever but somehow your whole life is being controlled by him and when you are with him, you are like a puppet of his hands. Mark’s touch are dominating and rough ,simply abusive and insulting whereas Wooyoung’s touch are soft and playful, in other words securing and loved.

………

“Don’t tell me to leave your hand again.”

“wooyoung..”

“Are you okay?”

“Wooyo-“

“Tell me. Are you okay? Is there something bothering you?”

You are wiggling your wrist under his hold but somehow his grip is strong but gentle. Before you could say any more word. The door of the practice room slams open, startling you and Wooyoung closes his eyes in frustration as to who is interrupting him. You both are looking at the person at the door. You are faced with the most scary scene in front of you, your eyes wide in horror and whereas wooyoung unfazed by the presence. Your boyfriend’s raging eyes taking in your position with him and how wooyoung maintaining a secure hold on your wrist. His heavy steps of the boot echoing inside the room as if the mirror walls would collapse under the pressuring sound, eyes focused on the grip.

Your breathes becoming heavy, hands becoming numb, ears becoming deaf to the surrounding and as if the walls closing in to suffocate you to death. Mark reaches to you and holds your other hand and when he tries to pull you, you are pulled back by the other one.

“Y/N, tell that guy that we are leaving for home and it’s your last time for this dance practice.”

Wooyoung didn’t like the tone he used on you and seeing your trembling form under their hold was triggering something inside him.

“Woo-“ you somehow manage to voice out his name but Wooyoung interrupts you.

“Even if you drag her away from me still I’m not leaving her hand. Not with you.”

Mark chuckles on hearing his desperation in the voice.

“You are speaking about my girlfriend in the way as if she belongs to you.” Taking few steps closer to him, he glared , “ Remember She is Mine.”

You clutch Wooyoung’s wrist under his hold and he sees your uncomfortable face to which he forcefully pulls you behind him and glares at your boyfriend.

“Don’t touch her.” Wooyoung literally growls at Mark.

Mark is not liking his attitude and finding this so annoying that you are giving in to him and not fighting against his hold as if you are glad to be with him.

“You don’t tell me what to do with her. She is not your property. Let me take back to where she belongs to.”

“Now, you are telling me she is a property? Shut up before I pull your throat out. She can’t be yours when you are just treating her like this. Have you seen her closely? She is dancing but her body is lacking the confidence and strength because she is weak both mentally and physically and emotionally and all this because of you.” Wooyoung glares as he stated his points.

Mark glares back at him, “aren’t you showing too much care for her? Have you fallen in love with her or what?”

“Yes, I have. Atleast I know how to treat someone whom I love. Just leave, Mark.”

Mark grabs his collar and glared at him.

You somehow managed to calm yourself while being out of sight of Mark but still a lingering sense of fear still budging you. You push yourself to the front of Wooyoung, “Mark, please let go of him. We were just practicing for the event and….I…I had put the call on silent. Sorry for that.”

Both of the males are looking down at you but with different emotions, one with soft and worried expression and the other one with furious eyes and mad expression.

Leaving the collar, he grabs your hair and pulls your face near him, “I have told you several times to stay away from him but you are a brat who won’t listen.”

“Ah…Mark. It’s hurting….please leave it.”

“Do you think Wooyoung will always be there to help you?”

“Whats going on here?” Yeosang enters the room and the scene before him is confusing. He looks at Wooyoung and then you and your boyfriend.

Wooyoung again pulls you out of his grasp and hugs you, “Y/N, calm down. Shh.shh, it’s me.”

“Please leave me. Please I will listen to you. I won’t be a bad girl again. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Wooyoung’s heart clenches seeing you like this vulnerable, he hugs you tighter and caress your head, planting a slow and soft kiss on your head. Mark was about to go towards him.

“Yeosang, call your dad and San and tell them to come here. Grab him and take him to the spare room. I’m coming.”

The one in command doesn’t need a word more to jump in action. He pulls out a syringe from his backpack and push it down the neck of Mark when he was busy watching you. One might wonder what in the hell Yeosang have such things in his backpack but that’s for other times. As for now, he is taking this unconscious man out of the room to the spare room.

Wooyoung waited until the door got closed. He makes you sit on the floor along with him and pulls you closer to his embrace, a secure one as if he is shielding your weak body from every strong presence and negative energies around you.

“Hey, look at me. No one is here to hurt you. It’s me and you. Open your eyes, sweetheart.”

Somehow his sweet voice worked and you parted your eyes a bit, still not sure about the scene that might get unfold. But to your relaxation, a sweet guy yet his appearance was not sweet, his looks and aesthetics are always so dark and gives off gangster vibes, you sometimes wonder him to be one. Your eyes wander around the room to see where is your boyfriend but it was only both of you and somewhat you thanked for this mentally.

Your gaze returns back to the guy holding you tight as if his hold won’t loosen even if it’s the end of the world.

“Wooyoung…”

“Yes…it’s me. He can’t hurt you anymore. You are safe now. “

Shaking your head, “he will come back to me again. You don’t know how powerful he is. Nothing can prevent him from getting me back. Not even you.”

“Who said I’m not powerful?”

“I’m not joking. He has a backup support of a gang and even if I complain about him to the police then his boss will bail him.”

Pulling your head to his chest, his hands patting your back, “I know everything about him. Even more than you know. You don’t know a lot of things about everyone but you know I guessed it right. That something is up between you and Mark. I have watched you feeling scared everytime I have mentioned about him. Even if you smile anytime, there was an unspoken sadness in your eyes.”

“You noticed? That’s crazy coming from you as you have always seen me as to tease and annoy me.”

“That’s fun though….. I have noticed everything about you Y/N. Since the first day, I met you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“To pull you in the mess of my life. I should have managed to get out from here before he could reach to us here but I was late.”

He caress your head before softly pulls it upwards. So opposite from Mark’s hold. The same actions but different approach, your hurtful eyes meeting his worried eyes.

“I’m glad that all my guess are cleared in front of my eyes and I was the one there who could protect you from him. I will keep you safe. And I can assure you that no one can hurt you ever not even me and you have to trust me.”

“I want to trust you but somewhere I fear to get hurt again like the way I got on trusting him. But Woo” your palm resting on his cheeks, “ but please let me trust you. Let me make you the part of my life. Please make me believe that I can be loved and you will not hurt ever.”

He smiles at you and this is the first time he is genuinely smiling at you without any teasing and you smile a little along with him.

“I have loved you since the day one since the day when you introduced yourself all dolled up in a red dress and you remember I told you that I like your dress for a reason.”

You nod.

“I like red and you caught my eyes that day but not like the other girls but a one who I need to protect. I like you in colour red. You shine the brightest. My bad girl in red.”

You hug him tightly, “thank you, Wooyoung.”

So it was your red dress. Now everything is getting clear why he always puts a red ribbon on your wrist or gifts you red cased pens, red key rings. He always urges you to wear red coloured outfits or a hint of red details atleast available in it. You thought it was just a part of him annoying you but it was just he wanted to see you in red colour.

“I love you, Y/n.”

You didn’t reply but rest your head on his shoulder inhaling his comforting cologne.

“I’m sorry if it’s too fast but after waiting for all these years I couldn’t help and-“

“I love you too, Woo.”

He is smiling brightly hearing your reply with the nickname and place a soft kiss on your forehead and then on your nose. He stares at your lips.

“One day when we will be both in a better situation, I will kiss you on the lips.”

You smile at him and rest your head against his chest, his heart beating fast yet it’s relaxing to you.

In a comfortable silence inside the practice room, there’s two souls promising to be there with each other, one is glad to save the other one and the other is glad to get the comfort they desired all these times. Never ever anyone had thought of having a peaceful silence in a place which is supposed to be loud chaotic.

“But you are still my bad girl who is ready to argue back with me and also we need to be the winners. The winners of the competition and the winners of the life of you and me.”

His bad girl in red.

Please dont hate Mark. I want to give Mark a psycho role and somehow I was lowkey loving it while writing him here but remember he is not even like this in real life. He is an absolute sweetheart. Mark him in your heart.

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