#*tap* *tap* “do not deliver to address”

[jigeuminunbich]

what a girl wants | park jisung (m)

synopsis after tapping out early into your first-time, jisung refuses to be a fool in front of you again. gathering reinforcements, he arms himself in preparation to please you when the next time comes for you both to be intimate. and boy, does he learn a lot.

genre nonidol!au (inexperienced!jisung x experienced!reader), fem!reader, mature (smut), and established relationship

minors dni, please ! (nsfw tags under the cut)

content probably needs another proof read, men explaining sex, multiple scenes of ji lasting a millisecond (jk, jk), pet-names (pretty, babe, baby), reader naturally takes on a bit of a dominate role, brief missionary, cunniligus, overstimulation, hair-pulling, unprotected probone, even more missionary, ear play + sucking, creampie, and a tiny off-hand joke about dh offering to fawk jisung

word count 6k

author’s note listen, ik virtually everyone came out of tds3 loving chenle (rightfully so) but personally, i’ve been on jisung timing since my stop teehee 🤭

I. ACT ONE

Jisung had dreamed of this moment much more than he’d care to admit to. You both had been dating for nearly a year and had yet gotten to the point of stark intimacy, well, until now.

It was breathtaking really, seeing you under him. He couldn’t believe this was his reality, that you were actually doing this with him. That was all he could think about when you first initiated it. He let you take the lead, per usual, but this time it reached a point where he was eager to agree when you asked if he was ready.

Though, at this moment, he was coming to regret that excited confirmation he had delivered earlier.

“Oh,” you verbalized from the junction of Jisung’s neck following the sudden stall in his movements. “Did you…?”

A faint whimper escapes from Jisung’s lips, visibly coming down from his evident climax. You watch as Jisung’s eyes flutter open, his face soon contorting into a look of sheer horror, dropping his head to where your bodies met to witness the scene completely for himself.

“Oh my god…” he mumbles in what you read as bewilderment, his head snapping back to speak to you.

“___, I am so sorry.” Jisung sputters out immediately.

A fond laugh fights its way through you, and you shake your head to mask it away. “No, no. It’s okay, Ji’…”

You try to comfort him, but his flushed face remains puffy with frustration. Your hands that come to coddle his bloated cheeks do little to soothe his nerves. Jisung huffs, undoubtedly upset with himself.

“Hey, look at me.” You urge his gaze to meet your own, he finds your eyes soft and a tender smile playing at your lips. Jisung finds his heart rate slowing at this, the pad of your thumb that smoothes over his tense jaw aiding in his relaxation.

“We can stop, if you want?”

Jisung inhales sharply, squeezing his eyes shut as if once he opens them back up that this moment will have never happened. But you’re still there, waiting patiently for his answer.

He thinks for a moment. There was a thought that spoke to him, to keep going as he knew how long you both had waited for this night. But the weight of his reality felt like it was physically crushing him too much to listen.

“Uh, yeah. I think that’d be best…” He answers meekly and you reluctantly nod.

His room falls silent besides from the rustling of you assisting him with pulling out and the bed creaking under his weight as he plops in the spot next to your body. You regretfully sit up after only experiencing time on your back momentarily, sparing a solemn look to Jisung who’s large hands hide his face.

“You okay?” Your voice is gentle as you probe him.

Jisung clears his throat, revealing his face briefly when he sits up on his elbows to address you. It’s painted a furious pink from what you assume is his embarrassment and shimmers with sweat. “Yeah, I just—uh— need a minute.”

Understanding of him, you decide to slip away to handle yourself. “Okay, well, I’ll be in the bathroom.”

“Mhm.” Jisung nods, watching you intently as you slide from the mattress, grabbing his once discarded tee, and trail to the nearby bathroom before disappearing behind the door.

His body meets his bed again with a thud, shielding his hot face away with his hands once again.

II. JUDGEMENT FREE ZONE

It takes a number of business days before Jisung can even work up the courage to see you in person, let alone mention what had transpired that night. The memory had been gnawing away at him since, every time he blinked, or tried to sleep, your nonplus reaction to his “premature” arrival was all he could see.

There was no way he could bring it up in conversation just yet… at least not to you.

“You what?!” Renjun exclaims in absolute horror.

“He lasted thirty seconds!” Chenle gleefully responds for Jisung, still coming down from the belly-splitting laughing fit he had just went through before informing Renjun.

Brazenly (and stupidly), Jisung had decided he was fed up with his set of circumstances— trusting his best-friend and roommate, Chenle, with the information that had landed him in this unfortunate position.

But very quickly, he realized just how much of a mistake that was.

Jisung sighs frustratedly— sparing the brunette a piercing glare before angling his attention back to Renjun, “It was more like a minute and a half…”

“Oh, Jisung, that’s still not good.” Renjun comes over, slowly sitting on the opposite side of his junior.

“I know.” Jisung physically slumps in his spot, a cutesy pout on his face.

A tight-lipped, earnest smile graces Renjun’s face and he places a comforting hand on Jisung’s shoulder. “Did you at least help her?”

Jisung asks blankly, confused. “With what?”

Renjun pauses alongside Chenle, both of them sharing a horrified look while Jisung looks between them like a neonate dear.

“You didn’t help her?!” Chenle screeches, eyes bulging and eyebrows angled in complete confusion.

“Do what?!” Jisung bellows, now frustrated.

“Jisung, even I know what you’re supposed to do for your girlfriend in the event you.. finish early…” Renjun voices deeply and careful enough for his friend’s digestion.

Jisung pauses for a moment, picking apart Renjun’s words before making a face of understanding.“I— oh, well she said she’d take care of it!”

“Still,” Renjun sighs, taking a moment to calm himself. “you’re supposed to offer, man.”

“I’ve got to tell Mark about this…” Chenle shakes his head, already typing in the group chat.

III. SECOND OPINION(S)

“Dude…”

Mark’s face is twisted in an expression Jisung can only decipher as disbelief, a common emotion he’s encountered since filling in his friend group on his situation.

“I know, I know. It’s not a good look.”

Donghyuck scoffs amusedly, having stopped in on the conversation after overhearing the absurd topic. “It’s an awful look, actually. How do you cum in thirty seconds without getting your girl off after?”

“It wasn’t—“ Jisung sighs, gathering himself. “I don’t know. I have no idea what I’m doing.” He recedes, sinking into the material of the couch that supported him, Mark, and Jaemin.

“Well, ___ knows this, right?” Jeno pipes from beside Donghyuck after remaining silent the whole debriefing session.

Jisung shifts in his spot, shrinking from the burning gazes of his friends as they wait for him to overshare. “Yeah, I mean, we talked about it before. But she has experience, and— I dunno— I thought I’d at least do okay…”

“Ah, Jisung. No ones ever perfect doing anything for the first time.” Jaemin plants a rather rough yet consoling pat on the younger’s back.

“I was.” Donghyuck interjects, a smug look on his face while shrugging his shoulders.

Renjun scoffs, shoving the back of the former’s head from his positioning— leaning over the same couch Donghyuck happened to be sprawled across. “You cried.”

“Aht!“ Donghyuck rubs his head, snapping around to correct his friend. “That was the second time!”

Mark sighs deeply, drawing the attention away from his friends’ squabble. “Jisung, have you both talked about it since?”

Jisung anxiously plays with his ear, pouting. “Well, no, even if I wanted to I just don’t know what I’d say…” It was a true concern for him. He had muddled over the scenario in his about a dozen times at this point, and every time he couldn’t find the appropriate words to say to you— even if you weren’t even really there.

“Sorry for only lasting thirty seconds?” Chenle wickedly suggests, earning yet another warning glare from Jisung.

“Ou, if you don’t know how to say it, you could always get a cake!” Donghyuck piles on, promptly earning another wack to his head— this time Jeno is the unamused culprit.

“Look, next time you see her, just be honest.” Jaemin advises, effectively drowning out the whining of his battered friend who claimed Chenle deserves the lashings because he commented first.

Jisung nods, considering it but not with another issue forming in his mind. “Okay, well… what about… you know...”

“The sex?” A handful of them chime in response.

The younger boy’s lips form a tight, shy line, obviously still finding the topic a bit taboo. “Yes, yes— that. What am I supposed to do? I don’t want a repeat of last time…”

“Just watch a bunch of porn, that’s what I did.” Donghyuck recommends, still testing his luck.

Exhausted, Renjun simply lets his eyes pierce into the back of his friend’s head for a moment before sighing.

“How about we don’t do that and just give you some pointers, hmm?”

Jisung claps his hands together, liking that nugget of advice way more than Donghyuck’s, who sits offended, tongue infamously poking his cheek.

“Okay, sounds good.”

IV. H.T.P.A.S.Y.G 101

Now, when Jisung was told that everyone would be meeting in he, Chenle, and Renjun’s shared living room to “give him pointers”, he didn’t necessarily expect to be surrounded by his friends while his television displayed a slide show.

Surprisingly, Donghyuck ran the operation with his laptop perched on the armrest on the opposite couch, even after his treatment the other night.

“Alright, Jisung, welcome to how to please and satisfy your girl 1-0-1!” Donghyuck stands at the center of the room, gesturing towards the screen that projects the title ‘H.T.P.A.S.Y.G 101’— along with throwaway stock photos of couples experiencing varied emotions.

“Woah. Did you make this?” Jisung voices, foolishly impressed with his friend’s set-up.

Donghyuck’s facials drop, “No. It was already a template on Canva.” He deadpans while Jisung makes a motion of understanding.

Collectively, his friends blink ludicrously at Jisung’s naïveté. “He made it, Jisung-ie…” Jaemin clarifies slowly.

“Ah,” the latter nods, embarrassment creeping up his skin.

Donghyuck shakes his head before putting the attention back on the screen where he flips to the next slide, automatically does Jisung pull out his phone to retain the coming information.

“Okay, first rule, don’t come in thirty seconds.”

A cacophony of snickers and tittering emerge from the group at Jisung’s expense.

“I— how long are you guys gonna run with this?” Jisung cringes, regretting all over again even including the detail of his duration.

The man in the center staggers back into his spot, pretending to wipe away fallen tears. “I’m sorry it’s too funny…”

“Now! It may seem hard but the last thing we want is a redo of what happened last time, yes?” Jisung nods shamefully, lips tight.

“Next rule, be a giver. Down the line you can find out whether or not she prefers it but to start, you wanna take charge and get your girl off.”

Jisung hums, his focus being the ever growing list on his phone-screen. Curious, Jeno peers over at him.

“A—are you seriously taking notes?” He furrows his brows at the open tab in Jisung’s notes app.

“Hey, he’s a diligent learner!” Donghyuck waves a warning finger towards Jeno before turning to reassure Jisung. “Don’t worry, Jisung, the best students study.”

He addresses his older friend’s defense of him briefly, already having questions about the lesson. “When we say… get her off— what do you mean?”

“Eat her out, Jisung.” Chenle interjects flatly.

“Oh.” Jisung’s head bobs slowly. “And how do I do that?”

The “teacher” sucks his teeth, “Christ, do we have to teach you everything?”

Jisung just blinks in response, earning a tired sigh from Donghyuck, “I’ll send you some material after class.”

“Okay.” Jisung nods.

“Third rule! Take it slow. Kind of ties back into rule one but can be used elsewhere. Listen, I know you’re a bit of a fumbling mess but at least try and make it seem like you know what you’re doing.”

Despite the directed jab, Jisung continues to diligently jot down Donghyuck’s advice.

“What does ___ like, do you know?” Mark pipes.

“Sexually?” The boy’s eyes go wide, a bit startled.

Mark snorts, “I’m not asking for her favorite food, man,”

Jisung breathes out a sheepish laugh, “Ah, well, she’s kinda sensitive around the ears…”

Donghyuck claps, startling Jisung but effectively grabbing his attention, “Alright, involve that! Kiss, lick, suck for all I care. You gotta do something that’ll turn her on, you can’t just whip your dick out and stop there, got it?”

“Got it.” Jisung re-affirms, intently copying down every word that leaves his friends’ mouths.

“Well, I think that’s enough for today,” Donghyuck nods, clearly proud of himself.

“Thank god.” Jaemin sighs exasperatedly, earning himself a warning look from Donghyuck. The latter rolls his eyes, smiling at Jisung who overviews what he’s learnt so far.

“You seem like you picked up well, I’ll quiz you after you watch the material.”

Jeno snorts, “You do know you’re not an actual teacher, right?”

Donghyuck smugly smirks, propping his hands onto his hips.

“Don’t be a hater, Jen’. If you want a lesson, you can just ask. Don’t think I forgot about what Iseul said— agh!” Swiftly, Jeno starts strangling Donghyuck to cut him off, the ladder dramatically flopping on the couch behind him and taking the older boy with him.

Using the commotion to his advantage, Renjun swoops in to take a seat next to Jisung, who quietly reviews his notes in the midst of the chaos.

“And Jisung,”

“Hmm?” The younger glances up from his notes.

“Don’t forget that the reason we’re here is because ___ likes you. Not what you can do for her in bed or any tricks these idiots are telling you to do…”

“Ah, okay.”

“I mean, we all mean well— even Donghyuck— but what matters most is that you’re yourself. That’s what ___’s most attracted to, right?”

“Yeah, I guess…” Jisung answers hesitantly.

“Right. Maybe you should watch that video Donghyuck sends you, though.” Renjun suggests a bit quieter, though his urgency remains evident.

Jisung laughs at his older friend, nodding in understanding. “Will do!”

V. ACT TWO

The next you spend genuine alone time with Jisung is two weeks following the whole incident, you’re grateful that he’s grown comfortable again with skin-ship. Missing nights like these where you two were able to wordlessly cuddle up together without an evident damper hanging over the room. Of course, you’d love to address that night. Maybe even give it another try but unless Jisung makes it clear that he’s comfortable with it, you suppress any and all thoughts about it.

Much to your liking, the night carried on like usual. No roommates to interrupt your skinship, or to witness the chaste kisses you gave each other. But in the midst of watching the second film Jisung had gladly let you choose— you realize just how touchy he’s getting.

A typical reserved hand that would be perched on your hip was playing with the hem of your shorts, igniting the bare skin with every brief graze.

Curious, you angle your head upwards on Jisung’s shoulder, immediately drawing his attention from the screen and down to you.

“You okay?” You inquire, an eyebrow raising. You tried to hide your excitement but the grin that found your features was an obvious giveaway that you were losing.

Jisung simply hums, his hands still stationed in their new territory. You nod, “Okay…” and instinctively crane your head up to signal a kiss.

Quickly, Jisung obliges, meeting you halfway and connecting your lips. Your intent was for it to be just like the other kisses that happened tonight. Quick, sweet, no alternative intent, but that was clearly not Jisung’s shared intention.

When you depart, he follows, and you have no problem in giving him what he wants. The kiss is extended, the hand on your thigh tightening in grip. You match Jisung’s vigor, equally biting at his lips and easing your tongue in his mouth when his own licks at your entrance. But you have to say you were not expecting this.

Soon, Jisung’s body was angled nearly on top of you and he showed no signs of stopping. Both hands now on your waist as he titled you backwards, still intently keeping your mouths fixed together.

“Oh, hello?” You manage to get out.

“Hi.”

Jisung takes control, which is very unusual since typically you’ll straddle him when making out. But you allow it to happen, your back meeting the bed as Jisung kisses you passionately. This kiss is much different than one you’ve ever shared with him, normally he’s way more reserved— even before your first time he was shy, but obviously a fire has been lit under him to redeem himself.

You’re the first to pull away, not moving far but just enough to be able to catch your breath. Jisung has never kissed you speechless before, but you’re okay if this was to become your new reality.

“Jisung…”

He ignores you, kissing down your neck while his large hands grope you. He's hungry, his teeth grazing against your skin in rotation with his suckling but his bruises still feel like heaven— you didn’t even know he was capable of leaving such marks.

Jisung’s cold hands are suddenly under your shirt, lifting the large garment that once belonged to him over your naked breasts. One of them even snaking down to your thin sleep shorts while the other remains to thumb at your now perked nipples.

“Oh— Jisung, wait!” Pausing your pleasure to confront your boyfriend.

He looks at you in surprise, as if he’s been caught doing something wrong.

“Are you sure about this?” You ask carefully.

“I wanna make you feel good…” he replies as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, you blink— slowly gathering yourself as Jisung continues to kiss down your abdomen and eventually to the center of your legs.

You stutter when you feel his hot breath on your core, it’s been so long you’ve had anything like this, you hate to say you’ve been waiting on it but fuck— you have been.

“Ji…” your hand cups the back of his nape, the other replacing his hand that once toyed with your chest.

Jisung gazes up at you, a look that reads that he’s asking you for permission. He quickly drinks up how he’s got you, shirt pushed to your over your breasts— leaving them on display, you look down at him— almost pained while you wait for his next move, lip tucked in between your teeth— a thumb to your own nipple.

Final inch of resolve snapping, Jisung flattens his warm tongue over your sleep shorts, humming instantaneously when his muscle meets the fabric. It’s lewd but he can’t help himself, especially when he encounters the already wet stain in the seat of your bottoms. He quickly gets to work, though, savagely his tongue ravishes you with one measly layer keeping him from fully tasting you.

The sight is one to see, your routinely sweet and respectful boyfriend with his head between your legs— tongue lapping and dancing around your cunt through your shorts.

You can barely take anymore, you need him. You didn’t care what his level of skill was, you needed more stimulation than this.

Jisungs jumps back a bit when you sit up to interrupt him, the shorts being slipped off. “Ji, please, please, keep going,” both of your legs are back on either side of his head, this time your bare, silky cunt on full display. No longer hidden by the baby blue bottoms.

You’re practically begging, your hips involuntarily shifting closer and closer to Jisung’s face as you wait. Jisung couldn’t believe his eyes, you’ve never really begged for him before. Not like this, so vulnerable. His tent had pitched ages ago but the strain he felt watching you now was a different kind of pain.

His newfound confidence falters a bit, wordlessly nodding up at you with wet eyes before obediently lapping at your cunt again. You throw your head back as a whimper rips through you, shifting back onto your elbows to play with your chest again. Not forgetting to keep one hand anchored in Jisung’s hair.

His movements are cautious at first, proving that this is definitely his first time but once he finds a pace that seemingly fits you best, he carries on with it. He alternates between sucking your throbbing clit to dipping his tongue deeper in your folds to tongue at your hole. You’d ask him where he learned that from but you’re too caught up with how good it feels that the question burns out on your tongue.

Before you know it, you’re close to coming already. With it being so long since you've had this, paired with the uncontrollable moans Jisung emits as he restlessly laps up all your juices, you can’t take much more.

“Fuck, Jisung. I’m close…”

Jisung hums, unaware just what that does for you. You whine pulling his hair tighter, in return it’s his turn to whimper. It’s uncomfortable, as he’s realized from the past times you’ve tugged his hair but he would never stop you.

“God, please don’t stop,” With Jisung’s locks entirely in your grasp, you can’t stop yourself from grinding your cunt upwards. Jisung takes a beat to adjust but realizes what you want, he shifts down a bit. The tip of his nose giving your clit the friction it so desperately desires while his tongue draws sloppy circles around your entrance.

You groan, the knot in your stomach tightening. You’re almost intelligible with your blubbering but Jisung manages to make out that you’re— in fact— about to come.

Jisung takes what he’s learned from his lessons and even earlier from this encounter and lets his tongue dip in and out of your hole faintly, giving you little stimulation that leads you closer while you grind on his face.

His quick shift leads your orgasm to come crashing down on you. Jisung’s face is pulled flush to your pussy as you come but he could care less, he watches keenly with wide eyes as you lurch upward, riding his face until you finally come down completely.

His room is still for a moment but Jisung is so absolutely enthralled with the moment and how he’s just made you unravel before him. Gluttonous, he doesn’t wait much longer before he’s dipping back into your folds. Lapping at you and especially your hole, he feels like a madman. The taste of you sends shivers down his spine, your surprised noises only egging him on.

“Oh my god, Ji! Wait, wait, oh,” the intrusion of Jisung’s middle finger is completely foreign but welcomed.

Where the hell was he learning this all from?

Jisung continues to work you open, never neglecting your folds and clit for a moment.

“Ji, if you don’t stop,” you shudder, trying to gather your bearings. “I’m gonna come.”

“Want it,” he moans against your pussy. “Do it again for me, pretty.”

It feels as if you’ve been thrown into the Twilight Zone. Never has Jisung said your nickname in such a tone, so deep and dripping with lust. Butterflies erupt in your stomach, taking your mind off his dual stimulation for just a moment.

With the addition of Jisung’s lengthy digit that now pops in and out of you, it doesn’t take long for your second orgasm to hit, you cry out for your boyfriend again— this time instinctively begging for some control. But your pleas fall on deaf ears, it’s like he’s dead set on keeping his face between your legs, it’s becoming too much at this point. If you two were gonna do this, you wanted him to get something out of it too.

“Fuck, Jisung, too much!”

Jisung snaps from his reverie, all of his ministrations drawing back with his head peeking from between your thighs in concern. You’re finally able to catch your breath, smiling down at him to quell his apparent anxiety. Shyly, he smiles back.

He clears his throat, “Are you okay?”

You laugh at this, still struggling to stabilize your breathing while your body pulsed with what could either be desire or exhaustion. “I am. Better than ever, actually. Are you?”

“Mhm. I uh— I didn’t hurt you or anything?”

“No, Ji, I just don’t think I’d be able to take another orgasm just yet.”

“Oh, okay.” He nods.

You giggle at him, how insane was it that he completely left you dumbstruck on two separate occasions just seconds ago and was acting all reserved the next.

“C’mere,” you open up your arms to him. He rushes to you. Giving you what you want and joining your lips. He's completely unaware just how wet his face is until it’s on your’s and he finds it a bit embarrassing.

But you don’t falter at all, instead kissing him deeply while your hands unmistakably find the boner hitched in his sweats.

Jisung stutters, physically jolting out of the kiss. “Uh, do you wanna move onto that so soon?”

“Well, I don’t want to be the only one who gets off. That’s not fair to you, is it?”

“I’ll be happy as long as you’re satisfied…”

“Ji,” you wipe away your juices that have gathered on his chin.

“Hmm?”

“I’m only satisfied when I know you are too, now, strip.”

Jisung nearly lets a ‘yes, ma’am’ slip from his throat before he hurriedly slips off his clothes. You laugh at how cute he is, removing your own shirt.

“Now, boss, how do you wanna do this?”

“Uh— however you want—“

“Jisung.”

He sighs at the call of his name from your lips, gulping as you stare up to him. “How about… on your stomach?”

“Oh? You don’t want to see my pretty face, hmm?”

“No! I mean, of course I do! You don’t have to—“

“Ji, baby, I’m fucking with you. I’d love to.” with that you roll over, grabbing one of Jisung’s pillows before slipping it under you.

“Oh.” Jisung sighs, the sight of you obeying him and propping yourself up effectively sending more strain to his member.

“Well don’t stop now, come on,” you reach a hand back for Jisung to grab. He obliges, walking to the edge of the bed, and grabbing your hand. He recalls this position from the couple of ”study materials” Donghyuck had sent and he joins you on the bed, shuffling on his knees till his cock hovers your ass.

You shift under him, hiking your ass higher to encourage him to stick his length in. He takes the message and grips his cock, he doesn’t think he’s ever been this hard before.

When he finally lines himself up and sinks inside of you, he hisses while you whimper. Jisung’s hands are practically godsend but nothing, and you mean nothing compares to his dick. You haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since your first time. And always found yourself a tad bit disappointed whenever he would turn you down following it.

“Fuck, Ji, you’re so big, baby,” you groan, trying to adjust as his heavy cock continues to stretch you open.

Jisung can only huff, holding onto his last ounce of control. He's about to come, he can feel it. His hips still, knowing if he moves anymore he’ll end up spoiling this again.

“Oh, please keep moving,” you whine, taking matters into your own hands and pushing your hips back to pick up where he has left off.

“Shit, ___, wait—“ Jisung braces his broad hands against your back, stilling you for a moment. Your head cranes back, concerned but still evidently in need.

“I— I’m about to come…” he speaks weakly, almost as if he’s embarrassed. Which he absolutely is.

You pout, confused with his display of shame.

“That’s fine, baby. Just don’t stop, please, I need you.” The sound of you begging while continuing to grind your ass on his cock sends Jisung absolutely reeling. His eyes squeeze shut, sighing heavily before allowing you to meet him halfway. Your own movements make you purr in delight, you continue to grind against him, and Jisung finds his hips moving too.

He snaps into you, chasing your cunt when you pull away. You moan in surprise, Jisung finally melting and leaning down to stabilize himself as his hips find a shallow pace.

He groans, hiding his flustered face in the junction of your shoulder.

“___…” Jisung pants.

“It’s okay, you can come, fuck, come for me, baby…”

It takes one sharp thrust before Jisung completely loses himself, releasing an almost pained groan into your neck. He continues to jaggedly move in and out of you while you feel him release himself in you, his load spurting along your walls and escaping onto the surrounding areas.

You helplessly moan at the feeling, a bit disappointed when your boyfriend’s eager hips cease to a stop.

“Hmm. Feel better?” You lilt, propping your chin on your shoulder to get the best glimpse of him.

Jisung shudders, breathing out a small laugh. “Yeah, I— sorry…”

“It’s okay, babe. Now, pull out.”

“Hmm? Oh, right!” He heeds to your directions, easing out of you but not without some slither of sadness. He had done it again. Sure, he made you cum but he barely lasted a few minutes inside of you like he had hoped.

Promptly, you shuffle onto your back, cracking your legs open. Shocked, Jisung’s gaze drops to your cunt, now messily decorated with a glistening mix of his semen, saliva, and your own cum.

“You didn’t think that was it, did you?”

Jisung blinks because he absolutely thought you two were finished for the night. You chuckle, hooking your legs around Jisung’s thighs.

“I’m not done with you just yet, Ji’…”

It’s hard for Jisung to shield his excitement, gladly positioning himself in front of you. He grips himself to align with you once again, allowing his other hand to plant by your head.

He could die right now and be absolutely satisfied, Jisung thinks as you suck him back in your walls. His face hovers your own, watching intently as your features scrunches in pleasure.

Quickly adjusting to the sensation of him stretching you out again, you take note of how statuesque he is,“Move, babe.” You gently remind.

“Right, sorry—“ Jisung takes a moment to laugh at himself, garnering an endeared smile from you.

Your hands extend up to hold his face. “No more apologizing, okay?” Jisung nods along with you in response, his heart swelling at your tender act of affection despite him being several inches inside of you.

“Okay, sor— ahem, okay…” you giggle at his immediate slip up, and Jisung arranges his hips in a way that instantly takes your mind off of it, starting to rock into you once more, now both having climaxed once (or twice, in your case)— sensitivity strikes you both but there’s no way that was gonna stop either of you.

“Feel so good,” you hum.

“Yeah?” Jisung asks, innocently, keeping his rhythm as sound as possible.

“Mhm. Don’t stop, okay?”

“I won’t.” Jisung solidifies, finding confidence in being able to see your face and how you visually react to his movements. His hips begin to reel back a greater distance, snapping into you with a fervor that leaves you crying for more.

The obscene sound of Jisung’s thighs repeatedly crashing into your own fill the room, paired with the whine of his name from your lips and the sploshing sound of the wetness between your legs.

Unfortunately, Donghyuck’s voice echoes in his mind, but for good reason. Removing himself from your hold a bit, Jisung leans down to start pecking your ear.

You hum in satisfaction, shuddering under him.

He knew you well, he could still recall the first time he accidentally grazed the area of your ear with his lips. You lurched away with embarrassment washing over you but he had found it to be one of the cutest things in the world. Not many things could pacify you like that, but a little love to your ear did.

You arch yourself into your boyfriend when his tongue darts out of his mouth to flick the shell of your ear, your new positioning encouraging the depth of Jisung’s length. It doesn’t help that Jisung has found his pacing, a mind-numbing repetition of the head of his cock grazing the precise spot that leaves your vision spotty with stars.

“Shit, M’gonna come,” you aimlessly exclaim, the strength you’d usually have to filter your thoughts from useless babble existing no longer.

Jisung hums, continuing to lap at your ear, taking Donghyuck’s nonchalant advice and running with it. You gasp in elation when you feel Jisung suckle at your ear, nipping it before it leaves his mouth.

“Fuck, who taught you this?” Restless, you bring his face back to meet yours, you find your boyfriend’s pupils completely blown out and eyes lidded heavily. You trace his furrowed eyebrows to his parted puffy lips.

Jisung leans down, your inquiry not reaching him whatsoever. Your lips meet and you whimper into the kiss, it’s wet and noisy. Your muscles searching for the best taste of each other.

Your third orgasm was barrelling towards you quickly, and you find yourself looking for anything to give you stability. Mindlessly, your hand traces the distance from Jisung’s face to one of his hands that remains planted on the bed beside you.

Without a second thought does he intertwine your fingers, pressing your joined palms into the mattress as he begins to lose momentum.

“Please keep going,” you wail. ”I’m gonna come.”

Jisung nods, his lips tucked between his teeth as he tries to keep himself together for you. He watched you contort and writhe in pleasure, now becoming familiar with your body’s pattern before a climax.

Your free hand travels to Jisung’s broad back, leaving traces of yourself with savagely placed scratches. He winces, the sting of your fingernails against his back throwing him off but simultaneously driving him to keep going. His own features scrunching to alert you that he himself was close to snapping.

“Ah, please, please—!” You whine, bracing yourself, deliberately pulling Jisung flush to you the best you could to milk to most friction out of him as possible. Your shallow yank is enough to have the large man toppling over and on top of you.

The desired stimulation of your clit grazing against Jisung is enough to coax your next orgasm out of you. You cum, angling your hips to take as much as Jisung could still offer. It doesn’t take long for him to be right there with you, whining while his hips buck aimlessly into you. Your sounds are equal in desperation, both racing to chase your highs.

“Oh.” Your hands aid Jisung’s hips toward you as he continues to release his seed inside of you until he finally fully collapses onto your body.

Serenity returns to Jisung’s room, the pair of you well past the point of exhaustion to move an inch. Jisung, seemingly coming to, is the first to move (much to your dismay). He grunts, peeling himself from your sticky with sweat body and peering down at you for a moment.

It lingers, his study of you. And typically, he was the one who would shy away from such intense eye contact but you find your eyes flitting away first. You’ve never had someone be so engrossed with you, with your satisfaction, so worried with pleasing you.

Jisung breathes out a laugh, “What?”

“Nothing.” You shake your head, equally as giddy.

“You’re shy?”

“No,” you suck your teeth, fighting the smile that threatens to give you away, “just wanna know why you’re staring…”

“Mm. Is staring at my pretty girlfriend so wrong?”

“…Hmm,” you pause as if you’re thinking for a moment. “No. I guess not.” You shrug.

“Good.” Jisung bends down to peck your lips before fully removing himself from on top of you. He sighs when his back flops on the bed beside you.

“Okay but seriously, where the hell did all of that come from?”

Jisung chuckles at the urgency in your voice, shifting to lay on his side. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you…”

“Pfft. After tonight I think I’m more open to any possibilities…”

“Hmm… okay, it was Donghyuck.” Jisung admits bashfully.

Immediately does your mouth gape open in absolute disbelief. “No fucking way.”

“See!”

“Donghyuck—? He taught you all of that?!”

“Well, I studied and kind of just… went with the flow I guess?” Jisung shrugs as if it’s nothing.

“Wow. For a second there I was scared he gave you one-on-one lessons…”

“Woah,” Jisung blinks, shocked that you precisely assumed what he had purposefully left out of the exchange. “Believe it or not, he tried.”

“I believe it,” You giggle, the ridiculous image flashing in your mind and leaving just as quick as it came.

“I guess I have to give him his flowers then.” you sigh, a hand extending to brush away Jisung’s fallen fringe so you can fully see his face. He fights a smile back, helping you by sweeping his hair back.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah… I don’t think I have to tell you how great you were.” You snort, gesturing to your tired body. Jisung gladly follows your gaze, admiring your bareness once more.

Jisung hums, throwing an arm around your damp abdomen to tug you closer into him. You wordlessly oblige, sighing contently when your skin meets his again.

“Well, I think you were the star.” Jisung comments softly, his face now in your neck.

You coo silently, instinctively placing a hand on his jaw. “As much as I’d like to take credit, I can’t,” Jisung’s gaze shifts to your face when you tilt his head up.

“Not when you helped me through three orgasms.”

You peck your boyfriend’s lips as a form of punctuation. Though, you’re not able to drift far since Jisung’s mouth chases your own, deepening your once innocent kiss. You’re tired and your lips are beyond bruised but you just can’t help yourself. The way he hums from underneath you only intensifies your need for him.

While your mouth moves against his with conviction, tonguing at his lips to allow you more freedom, he finds his hands gravitating to your hips to give him some stability. Jisung sighs discontentedly when your lips disconnect, his eyes remaining shut for a beat before fluttering back open.

“Well, how do you feel about a fourth?” Jisung proposes carefully, though his expression shows that he’s clearly desperate for your agreement and for your lips to return to his own.

Quickly, your eyes widen in astonishment. “Really? Are you sure—?” Your worries are cut short by Jisung’s mouth. It’s short but effective in getting his point across.

He pulls away, an amused smirk on his face. “I’m sure.”

“Okay,” you giggle, finding yourself incredibly aroused by Jisung’s newfound confidence. You would certainly have to thank Donghyuck in some way for this abrupt change in your boyfriend’s behavior, unfortunately.

“Well let's not waste time then…”

© jigueminunbich 2024

[sorcererofsolitude]

Wednesday, walking in with a letter in her hand: My love, would you care to explain why the Postmaster wrote to us saying that they would no longer deliver to this address due to 'an inordinately aggressive pet'?

Enid, sweating bullets: ...

Wednesday, tapping her foot: What did you do?

Enid, feigning indignation: Why would you assume it's me?!

Wednesday, as deadpan as physically possible: Because we don't have pets, and you're the only one in the house who can turn into an enormous ferocious beast.

Enid: Okay... you caught me. I uh... might have wolfed out and chased the mailman across the street... and nipped at his ankles... and chewed his back tires...

Wednesday, looking unimpressed: ...dare I ask why?

Enid, shrugging: He called me a bitch, so I showed him one.

And that's how the Addams-Sinclair household got a P.O. Box!

[saturnznct]

how he acts when you're pregnant | enhypen x reader

➸ request from anon; heyy, I’m so happy you’re back! You’re fics were always my go-to if I wanted to read anything dad/pregnancy related, loved them all! can you please write about how enhypen would treat you during pregnancy, like their protectiveness, taking care of the reader, or when she’s having complications etc. 🤍

➸ note; hehe me too thank you so much!! that makes me so happy!! i don't love some of these but I hope they're what you wanted <3

➸ word count; 2335 words

➸ sangyoon, sam, ella, eunhye, yeeun, seren; in the womb lol

➸ warning(s); mentions of vomiting, implied sexy time, gestational diabetes, preeclampsia, mentions of possible birth complications

enhypen masterlist

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

heeseung

Heeseung can’t take his hands off you.

You don’t know if it’s because you’re newlyweds, or if it’s because you’re pregnant, but he can’t stay away.

At least one hand is always somewhere on you, on your shoulder, around your waist, on your thigh or knee. 

At night, it doesn’t matter if it’s in the dead of summer, his arm is snaked around you and his head is buried in the back of your neck.

Once you reach your second trimester, and your bump becomes noticeable, Heeseung is always touching your bump, tapping it absentmindedly with his fingers, beaming from ear to ear when eventually he can feel your baby boy squirming underneath his touch.

Sometimes he wakes up in the middle of the night to the push of feet against his palms, it made him smile every time.

Heeseung is also completely whipped for you, he’ll do anything you ask. 

Your cravings get intense, and he doesn’t complain when you wake him at three in the morning whining about salted popcorn with cheese on. And he goes to the store for you, every time.

Heeseung isn’t usually very sappy, but as soon as your bump pops up he’s the most sentimental soppy man in the world.

Every morning and night he talks to your bump about anything and everything. Even during the day he will randomly address the bump asking it questions.

‘Okay, little one,’ Heeseung sinks to his knees one morning, resting a hand on either side of your bump, ‘kick once for cornflakes. Kick twice for the chocolate cereal.’

You giggle, ‘you’re an idiot.’

‘I’m indecisive. This boy needs to pull his weight and help me. He’s already living here rent free for the next however long.’

You roll your eyes, going back to your own breakfast.

‘What do you think baby boy?’ Heeseung gently pokes at your bump attempting to illicit a response.

Eventually your son delivers a single kick, causing you to choke on your coffee. 

‘Unlucky,’ you laugh at his disappointed face, ‘cornflakes it is.’

‘I will evict him as soon as physically possible. How can he disrespect me like this in my own house.’

‘Can’t wait until he’s actually here,’ you murmur.

‘Me too,’ Heeseung kisses your bump before getting up to kiss your head and reach for the cornflakes.

jay

Jay isn’t too overbearing during your pregnancy. He’s not the type to constantly ask if you need anything, he will wait for you to ask him.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t anticipate your needs, you’ll come home from a late shift to find your pregnancy pillow already set up, your cravings are always fully stocked and there’s always plenty of bubble bath.

Where he does get somewhat intense is in public.

Jay constantly worries about harm coming to either of you. When you go shopping, he’s careful not to be recognised, wearing hats and glasses as to not to draw attention to you. In airports, his arm is always around you, guiding you around. 

So, when he’s on tour during your pregnancy and you come to visit, he’s on high alert.

‘Jay, I can walk around the venue by myself,’ you’re escorted into the dressing room by a security guard.

Jay pulls you into a hug, kissing the top of your head, ‘there’s lots of equipment around baby, what if you hurt yourself?’

You roll your eyes, ‘have I ever hurt myself backstage before?’

‘Let me look after you,’ he pecks your lips, ‘anyway, it’s soundcheck soon. There’s a nice chair set up for you beside the stage for the actual show as well-‘

‘Wait, I’m going to watch from backstage?’

‘Yeah, of course,’ Jay says, ‘going out there can’t be good for you, or the baby-‘

‘But you know I love being in the audience,’ you pout, ‘Jay, I want to be out there singing along with my lightstick just like everyone else.’

Jay tilts his head, ‘I don’t know, sweetheart, you’re so far along and the fans can be so intense…’

‘I’ll be in the stands with your managers, I’ll have so much space!’

‘I just have visions of you falling over or someone bumping into you..’

‘Please, baby,’ you pull out the puppy eyes, wrapping your arms around his waist, and you quickly see him crumble.

‘Fine, but minimal dancing,’ he taps your nose, ‘and a security guard.’

Just then, a stage runner knocks on the door, letting Jay know he’s needed for soundcheck.

‘Come on, I’ll take you to your seat.’ 

‘Jay!’

jake

When you first found out you were pregnant, Jake sort of panics a little bit.

You’re hunched over the toilet and throwing up he doesn’t really know what to do. This is completely new territory for him. Your early symptoms often have him incredibly flustered, you’re emotional, your boobs hurt and you’re constantly dizzy.

One night, Jake comes home from practice, and it’s like his instincts awaken when he sees you in the bathroom, on the floor sobbing.

‘Jake,’ you cry when you see him, and he’s instantly at your side on the tiles, ‘I can’t do this anymore.’

Jake takes you into his arms, letting you cry into his shoulder.

‘I know I haven’t been the most.. helpful,’ he murmurs, ‘but I know you, and you are so strong, and you can do this. And I will do everything and anything you need from me, okay?’

From then on, Jake is the most attentive boyfriend, and is very touchy. You don’t even have to ask, and he’s giving you a foot massage. You come home from work, and there’s already a bath run for you at the perfect temperature.

Once you’re four months in, your bump becomes noticeable, and Jake’s level of affection is just exacerbated. 

Every night he rubs your lotion on your bump, tells the bump about his day, and sleeping with his hand on it.

When you’re hormonal, he holds you.

‘Everything hurts, Jake,’ you sob, ‘all day. She’s been sitting on my spine all day, and I’ve been having braxtons, and my boobs hurt and they’re leaking, I tried to nap but I just couldn’t-‘

Jake from month one in your pregnancy would’ve freaked out at your outburst, but this Jake, in month seven, is calm and collected.

He runs you a bath, filling it with lavender bubbles. On your insistence, he gets in behind you, rubbing your back, shoulders and achy breasts.

’Is that better?’ Jake murmurs, the timbre of his voice sending a shiver down your spine and stirring up your hormones.

‘Much,’ you roll your head back against his shoulder, ‘you’re the best.’

He kisses your head, ‘how about we get out and go lay down?’

‘We can get out,’ you nod, ‘but can we do more than lay down?’

Jake grins cheekily, ‘incredible idea.’

sunghoon

For your whole pregnancy, Sunghoon is just filled with pride. He shows ultrasound photos to everyone and talks nonstop about your incoming baby girl to anyone that will listen.

Sunghoon becomes a bit of a pregnancy expert. Every book he can get his hands on, he reads cover to cover. He knows what to expect, what was abnormal and everything in-between. 

So Sunghoon did notice just how much you were needing to go to the bathroom. 

It was relentless. He would wake up several times a night to you wriggling out of his arms and padding into your ensuite. During the day, you’re constantly up and down needing to pee, when you’re driving you have Sunghoon pull into service stations constantly. 

He brings it up to your doctor at the next scan. Your doctor agrees that the rate of your bathroom trips are a little out of the ordinary, so he refers you for blood tests. 

‘Gestational diabetes,’ you read the words on the leaflet, slumped in the passenger seat of your car.

‘Y/N..’

‘This is my fault.’

‘Y/N, you heard the doctor. Sometimes these things just happen,’ Sunghoon rests a hand on your arm.

‘What if something happens to her because of this? I know he said that the risks were small, but what if?’ you begin to tear up.

’She was perfect on the scan the other day, remember? I’m going to help you through this. We’re going to get through this.’

Sunghoon stayed up all night that night reading article after article about gestational diabetes. You woke up the next morning to find a full google doc with meal plans, exercise routines and a schedule to check your blood sugars.

He happily did everything with you, eating the same meals and cutting down on sugar. 

On an evening, the two of you would go down to the pool in your apartment complex for a swim. You would slowly swim around while chatting, usually about the baby or work. 

‘You’ve made this so much easier for me,’ you stand over your daughter’s empty crib, damp hair occasionally dripping onto your bump, ‘thank you.’

‘It’s what I’m supposed to do,’ Sunghoon gently turns you around by your waist and kisses your nose, ‘as your husband and her father.’

‘We love you, Hoon.’

‘I love you too.’

sunoo

Sunoo feels totally out of his depth. 

Suddenly his fiancee is pregnant, something you never expected. He doesn’t know the first thing about pregnancy, and doesn’t know how to respond to your symptoms. He sort of just treats you as if you’re sick, bringing you soup and tea but keeping his distance. At the same time, you’re hormonal, and can’t understand why he’s staying away.

You worry he doesn’t want the baby, that he’s having second thoughts, or you’re bothering him too much with your requests. In reality, Sunoo is just so worried that he’s not being helpful, or that somehow he might hurt or upset you.

One night you’re laying in bed together watching TV in silence, you essentially lose it.

’Sunoo,’ you’re tearing up, ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Why?’ he whips his head around to look at you, ‘for what?’

‘You’re just distant, and you keep away from me, I barely see you. If it’s me or the baby I would rather you just tell me-’

’No- no, that’s not it at all. I want you and the baby more than anything in the world.’

Sunoo is quiet for a few moments, ‘I’m sorry. I guess I’m just scared. I’ve been retreating into my head and haven’t been there for you like I should be.’

‘Sunoo, we need to talk to each other. I need to know how you feel. If we’re going to be parents, we need to be a team, we need to be in sync.’

‘I know, you’re right. I promise going forward I’ll be more open with you about how I feel.’

From then on, he’s obsessed with all things pregnancy and baby.

Every few days you’ll come home to a package addressed to you that you didn’t order, containing a weird pregnancy product that he saw on TikTok.

You and Sunoo talk constantly. You chat late at night in bed, in the morning on your balcony as the sun comes up, in the car on an evening, all about your excitement and fears surrounding the baby. 

Sunoo also becomes somewhat clingy, especially at night or when you’re in crowds. While before you were pregnant he would usually just throw an arm around you, now he sleeps completely pressed against you, his chest to your back.

‘I love you,’ he mumbles into your neck one night, ‘thank you for giving me my dream.’

jungwon

Your pregnancy with Serin is very turbulent. 

For the first half, everything is fairly smooth.

You get sick, and Jungwon holds your hair back. You have mood swings, he tries his best to be empathetic. 

Jungwon knows enough to understand that these things are par for the course, so he’s supportive but not too concerned about your symptoms. 

You were around halfway through your pregnancy when the less than normal symptoms began.

Jungwon would come home from practice to you sitting in a completely dark room. 

‘Why are you sitting in the dark?’

Your head was in your hands, unable to be lifted.

‘I have the worst migraine I think I have ever had,’ you whine, ‘I have taken as much paracetamol as I am allowed. I had a bath in the dark, put a cold cloth on my forehead. Wonnie it’s so bad, I can barely see..’

Jungwon holds you, massaging your head until you fall asleep hours later. 

When the headaches and vision problems persist, you make an emergency appointment. 

‘Bed,’ Jungwon practically pushes you up the stairs when you get home, supervising and making sure you were changing into comfortable clothes and getting under the covers. 

Your intense headaches turn out to be preeclampsia. Although at the moment Serin was measuring well, the doctor had warned you of the potential complications, including preterm labour or low birth weight. 

You’d been ordered to take strict bed rest. 

For the remainder of your pregnancy, Jungwon waits on you hand and foot. 

He’s suddenly fussing over you, messing with your pillows and cushions. He brings up your food on trays, eating every meal beside you. The two of you tear through countless shows on a plethora of streaming services. He holds you when you cry in frustration. He holds your hand when the doctor visits every week.  

‘Baby, it’s ready,’ Jungwon enters your bedroom, approaching the bed.

‘Really?’ you warm with excitement at the prospect of getting out of bed, ‘can I see?’

Jungwon helps you get up, wrapping an arm around your waist to help you walk. 

He leads you down the corridor and into your daughters nursery, which he, Jay and Heeseung had spent all day decorating.

‘Oh, it’s beautiful,’ hot tears spring to your eyes, ‘you guys.. It’s exactly how I imagined.’

‘She’ll be in there so soon,’ Jungwon lays a hand on the rail of the crib, ‘and no matter what happens, she’ll be fine.’

[ew-selfish-art]

DP x DC AU: Tim had heard the phrase 'The wrong twin made it home' a number of times in his life, his parents were always very upfront about how the felt towards him. But... 'made it home' doesn't indicate death, does it? ...Tim ends up taking Danny's place by Sam's side in front of Congress to lobby the end of the Anti-Ecto Acts.

...

Tim has been up for hours passed when he told Alfred he would be resting and he's wrapped up his case files into neat little bows to deliver to Babs and the GCPD/Lawyers to do their jobs. Damian had made a comment earlier in their patrol that night about Tim being the wrong sibling to make it to his rescue and... and it got him thinking about that phrase. His parents were negligent with him, certainly, but they were always very clear about how he stood in their eyes. Praise and criticism were the two options, and very strictly limited passes of 'I love yous' that faded as he got older.

He's run his DNA before in the national databases- it was critical for maintaining his Alias' that multiple people didn't flag- but he's never searched in records before. About his twin. About the one who didn't make it home.

And its definitely the lack of sleep, and definitely the lack of brotherly affection he feels these days, but Tim just can't close the door until he's seen a death certificate. He's hacked Gotham General Hospital a million times for work, but doing it for his own gain feels wrong some how and he works with extreme caution. He finds his own birth certificate and... One Theodore Daniel Drake.

Tim snorts with a short ha, pretentious name alert and goes on to find not a single certificate of death or medical record of atypia. Oh no, what he finds is adoption paperwork meant to be closed to all wondering eyes and one Daniel James Fenton leaving the hospital instead. Tim blinks a few times, retraces his steps and then sure enough, learns for a second time that his TWIN was still alive.

Finding the Fentons was easy enough, their Lab address on all of their patents was seemingly also their home address. Danny had a much better hidden internet presence, it was good cybersecurity he'd have to praise him, but Tim had been trained better. Getting into his brother's files... Raised a number of new questions. Why was he compiling evidence against the government? What the fuck was he doing analyzing policy? Why did he have 'rogue' files???

Then Tim hacks into Danny's phone (he's learned at this point that Daniel was a no-go) and sees the conversations between his twin and his twin's best friends.

Sam Manson has an appointment with a Senator to Lobby for the end of the Anti-Ecto Acts. She wants Danny to join her, demonstrate something Tim can't determine, but he's refusing to leave and let his adoptive parents have even a moment to develop a new weapon without him there to destroy it. Someone called CW warned him about changes coming his way or something cryptic. Tim learns a lot from their back and forth, but stops reading once it gets to their personal squabbles.

Tim gets the meeting details and forwards it to Tam- If Danny can't make it... Tim will. And if Tim can't demonstrate whatever Danny was going to, it would at least help to throw around his name.

Tim writes an email to Danny- It's meant to go out after the lobbying appointment- and it explains that Tim found out about him and wants to connect if Danny does, and if Danny doesn't he at least wants to get him set up with his half of the Drake family inheritance. He includes a few personal facts, including that he too ended up adopted in life and had siblings, that he helped run a company and took on the world too soon. It takes a lot out of Tim to be so candid- but he doesn't want Danny to be too blindsided by the Waynes. He attaches a family photo with the label "you'll be able to tell which one is me'.

...

Sam is tapping her stupid, uncomfortable heels waiting for these dumbass, elderly politicians to get their shit together so she can speak. Sam was resourceful and surprisingly, the second she took on politics as a way to waste the family money, her mother Pamela was all for it. She's wanting Sam to run for president now... At least she doesn't complain when Sam organizes protests.

The door behind her opens, and while she knows its not going to be Danny behind her, a girl can feel a bit crushed. She really thought he would be behind her today, but Danny was being weird about this whole thing. Clockwork had him spooked about something changing today, and Danny wanted to be in Amity Park in case it was another Pariah situation or something. His parents had been on edge lately too...

"Sorry, I'm not late am I?" A voice asks and it's just so close but not- Sam turns her head to see Danny in a nice suit with long hair and eyebags way darker than she'd seen on him in a while. This... Wasn't Danny. She blinks, and then something in her anxiously decides that the universe is fucking with her and she will be fighting back.

"Everyone is late." She glares at him, appraising his every move. The woman behind him is typing dedicatedly on her tablet and the man himself looks like he might fall over while he shuffles his files in hand.

"Well, then I'm on time. My name is Tim Drake, I'm here to help your cause in getting the Anti-Ecto acts repealed and the parties responsible for it apprehended."

"Tim Drake? As in-"

"As in Co-CEO of Wayne Enterprises. And I've done a lot of research, so I hope you'll let me play a supportive role while you speak."

"There's no way you've been able to research if you've been out of Amity, The whole city is under a media blackout." Sam's glare looks like it could cut him.

"Not to brag, but that sort of thing doesn't slow me down these days. I've made physical copies of the things they're most likely to delete and I've sent everything to the Justice League, who in turn are sending it to the Lantern Corps." He states matter-of-factly and Sam finally stops being angry at the world to just be... stumped. What the hell was going on?

"How did you... Why?"

"Tam, tell Ms. Manson how passionate I am about human rights?" The guy sounds anxious, the woman rolls her eyes and says "Very." without stopping her typing.

The doors open and Sam has only a moment to decide that Tim can join her... He proves himself to be an asset, and his name alone gets them further than she had anticipated getting today.

....

Danny is watching Sam walk into the space via C-span, gasping when his own likeness follows behind her. What the fuck???

He can barely drag his eyes away as the clone (?) introduces himself as Tim Drake and proceeds to rip them into shreds for delaying Sam Manson of all people. Danny is transfixed and Tucker is blowing up his phone.

"DUDE ARE YOU SEEING THIS?" Tucker's voice loudly calls out the second danny blindly answers.

"Dude, I just, I don't even know? He cant be a clone right? But he's gotta be?" Danny hypothesizes.

"Nah dude, there's like, a whole lifetime of media presence for Tim Drake since he was like, tiny. This is so weird he looks just like you..."

"This is so weird." Danny dumbly agrees because he can't think of anything else to say.

Sam finishes her points, Tim submits the evidence to the court and they leave. Danny's phone pings with an email notification.

"Danny my guy, you should check that, Sam isn't responding yet. Her phone is probably still off."

He follows Tucker's advise and opening his email... Is a new message from Tim Drake.

"...I don't know what the fuck is going on?" Danny continues to say, and Tucker asks him just to read it out loud, "It's just... Apparently I am both adopted and a twin?"

"...My guy." Tucker sounds just as much at a loss.

...

Sam calls them both after Tim Drake is rushed away by his PA Tam (who she found herself admiring more and more), and is relieved when they dont immediately answer by screaming.

"So Danny, Tucker, you guys are traveling with me next weekend." Sam deadpans.

"Apparently shit gets twilight-zone level weird anytime you leave Amity!" Tucker exclaims.

"...What's next weekend?" Danny asks, hesitation in his voice.

"Your twin invited us, well, mostly you, to a Wayne Family Brunch. We're going cause those assholes have money and political influence, you're going because we all probably need to know what the fuck is going on with that guy."

[babygorewhore]

Can I be the helpless victim?

Ghostface!Cooper Adams/Abbott x fem reader.

Your night after a sudden pleasant exchange with your dad’s best friend has a killer twist.

Hiiii I missed my favorite dilf murderer and I’m happy to deliver this. Thank you so much to @cxrrodedcoffin for the dividers and @xxbimbobunnyxx for giving me the idea for something in this 🤭

Warnings! AU where there’s Ghostface and not the butcher! CNC! Breaking in, knife play, restraining, reader is on her period, choking, degrading, age gap, pussy slapping, fingering, unprotected sex, rough sex, but this is CNC so it’s not dubious consent. Please don’t read if this heavy kink isn’t for you! W.C over 2k!

You worked at this diner for years. Starting as a teenager when your dad was still at the fire department. Even though he was retired now, your father frequently stopped in to visit you. When he told you Cooper was coming along, his previous co-worker who he personally trained, you put on your cutest working clothes and make up. Cooper was younger than your dad but he was still twenty years older than you.

He was so hot. Way hotter than most men your age and you checked the mirror one last time before stepping out of the bathroom. You were off the clock now and you saw his familiar dark hair sitting at a booth.

His shoulders were set with his strong posture and your mouth went dry. You walked over, a saunter to your step and you met his brown gaze. “Hey,”

Cooper smiled, a charming sight and he glanced at the empty space across from him. “Hey, doll. I think it’s just me tonight. Haven’t heard from your old man.” You could have jumped for joy but you swallowed it down.

He wasn’t shy about the nicknames and you clicked your heels. “Can I get you a piece of pie?”

“Oh, I couldn’t ask you to get me anything. You’ve worked all day,”

“It’s okay! It’ll just take a second!” You quickly ran back into the kitchen, sneaking past one of the cooks and grabbing an empty plate.

You returned to Cooper, placing the baked good in front of him and slipped onto the cushion. He tapped his fingers on the table and you noticed his wedding ring was gone.

You didn’t comment on it as you watched him slowly eat a piece of pie. He quietly groaned at the taste and you pressed your thighs together.

“So, I haven’t seen you in a while. How have things been at work?” You ask him and he wipes his mouth with a napkin.

“Hectic. Especially because of that killer going around,” He replied with a huff of breath. “No one feels safe anymore.”

“Yeah, it’s crazy. Apparently the media has named the psycho. With his mask and all. Ghostface.” You chew on the corner of your lip, tasting the flavored chapstick and he flashed his eyebrows.

“Did they? That’s interesting. You’re following that closely I see.”

You shrug, watching him take another bite. “Kind of. It’s hard to get away from. You know how my dad is. He always wants me to be safe.” With that, Cooper smiles as he chews.

“Mmm, yes. Daddy’s girl. I don’t blame him. I’m surprised he ever let you out from how pretty you are.”

You could have passed out at his compliment and your ears heated up. As quickly as his statement came, Cooper went back into his casual, controlled demeanor.

You both continued to exchange casual conversation until he checked his watch almost an hour later. “Do you need a ride home?”

You cleared your throat. “Oh. I couldn’t intrude-the bus is close by,” He jerks his head.

“I insist. It’s no problem to drive you. Besides, can’t take any chances with a crazed killer on the loose.” Cooper winks at you.

It took you hours to fall asleep after the interaction and the drive home. It was quiet and he had your address already. Which was a little odd but your father must have given it to him. You daydreamed about him. His solid, tall and well built body. Handsome face and perfectly aged eyes. Cooper didn’t act like your dad’s best friend tonight. He acted like…a normal man.

Your phone rang, waking you up and you groggily answered without checking the ID. “Hello?” You slurred and a laugh sounded at the other end.

“Awww. Did I wake you up?” The voice was altered. Male but not normal. You blinked and sat up. Yawning and you squinted in the dark.

“Mmm, yeah. Who’s this?” You almost drifted back to sleep when the hairs rose on the back of your neck when another sound of amusement came.

“I’m hurt. You don’t know who I am? Everyone is starting to learn about me.”

You gasped and hung up the phone. Oh fucking hell. You had been too out of it to realize that in the news, the Ghostface killer liked to make these elaborate phone calls. You jumped out of bed, went to turn on the lights but they wouldn’t come on. The power was off.

“Shit,” you went to dial 911 but the phone rang. It was an unknown number. You didn’t want to be like the other victims so you didn’t answer. But a text message came.

“If you don’t pick up the phone, you’ll regret it.”

You answered the call. “The fuck do you want?” You snapped.

“I want to play a game.” You shook your head rapidly.

“No!”

“But you don’t even know what it is.” The voice whined and you scoffed.

“Yeah I do. No matter what someone dies.” You barked. Was this really happening? The Ghostface killer was calling you and you were sucked into a conversation.

“But you’re special, doll.”

You almost dropped the phone. Doll? There was only one person who ever called you that. You covered your mouth in horror as you heard movement in the closet.

“Don’t you see? I was going to let you guess where I was but you spoiled the surprise.”

The call ended and you yanked open your bedroom door and went to make a run for the exit. You got as far to unbolt the lock when an iron grip hand covered your mouth from behind. Your body was lifted off the ground, your feet kicking as you wildly fought against the hold. Another arm sealed around your torso.

“Shhh, shhh, easy girl.” The real voice made your defenses drop and you squeezed your eyes shut. It was Cooper’s voice.

He carried you easily back to the bedroom, you felt the dark robe around his firm form. Cooper plopped you on your bed, you focused on the white mask in the dark. Horror made your blood run cold as you saw him draw out a large hunting knife. He tapped it against his chest.

“I wasn’t lying about a killer on the loose. And I know this was a bit excessive-“ You stood up and shoved him. Making him go silent. Anger made you shove him again. He stumbled back.

“You’re a fucking murderer!” You shrieked and slapped him. The mask moved as his head snapped to the side. He caught your wrist and with his other hand, gripped your cheeks hard enough to still you.

“I wouldn’t kill you. But don’t get too confident.” Cooper lowly warned and leaned down. His gloved fingers, warm against your skin and you tried to wiggle away. Unhappy with your struggle, Cooper pushed you on your back on the bed.

He was strong enough to pin you without much effort, one hand holding both your wrists and the other held himself up at the side of your head. “I’m not gonna kill you but if you don’t stop being a bad girl, I will make you very scared. You don’t want that.”

“Fuck you.” You spit on the mask and he snarled. Cooper ripped it off and even in the dark, you could see the rage in his expression.

“Apologize. Now.” You glared at him and set your mouth in a firm line.

He gave you a sadistic smile and nodded. “If you weren’t so wet right now, I’d believe that little look of hate.” Your nipples hardened but you tried to kick him. Cooper slipped his hand inside your shorts, cupping your dampened underwear in the center.

“Yeah, there it is. That’s what happens when you get all worked up by me.” You whined as he sank two thick fingers inside you, ignoring the pad. Your bleeding was heavy enough that you knew blood was leaking on his skin.

A surge of urgency kicked in when he curled his digits, you frenziedly tried to escape but Cooper leaned his weight down. His leg further separating yours. “If you don’t stop, you don’t get to cum.” You inhaled sharply as he buried his face in your neck.

His lips skated along your skin, almost applying teeth but he didn’t give you what you deeply craved. “Say sorry. Or else this will be harder for you.”

You shook your head and he tilted his head. Cooper darted out his tongue, finally tasting your flesh and he sucked at your pulse point. You let out a choked moan as he increased his pace with his fingers. He removed them, pulling them up and he admired the crimson stain.

“Blood never hurt anyone.” He gave you a wink and you mewled as he thrusted them back in. You started grinding subconsciously, needing every single ounce of friction but he held off.

“Say sorry and I will give it to you.” Cooper offered and you blinked away tears. “Poor dumb little girl. Trying to resist it. You know who’s in control, don’t you?” His thick brow was raised and he gave your cunt a harsh slap.

You felt the moisture slip from your eyes and you trembled. Cooper gave your pussy a couple more slaps, moving your clit and squeezing your folds. It was torture. But the thin line of pride wouldn’t let you say yes yet.

You felt the handle of the blade fit snugly in your entrance and you cried out. Fully whimpering and clawed at his hand that held yours down.

Cooper was vicious in the way he pumped it in you but stopped every time you almost came.

“Okay! I’m sorry!” You wept and he cooed.

“Yeah? Say it again. One more time.” He prompted and you obeyed.

“I’m sorry,” Your lower lip stuck out and he caught it between his teeth. He lightly pulled it and removed the knife handle.

Cooper tapped the blade against your panties and cut them. He tore the rest of the material, discarding them and the pad. Your cunt throbbed as he pushed down his pants, ripping off his black costume and revealed his plaid shirt.

You could see his big dick twitch and precum leaking from the tip. You didn’t have much time to admire it as he held one thigh open, pumped himself a few times and his other palm wrapped around your throat.

Cooper pushed into you, slowly and the tightness took his girth painfully. His lower stomach hitting your clit and you felt like you were going to burst. Even with the slip of blood. Your mouth hung open and Cooper let spit fall. He thrusted hard, grunting and he tightened his hold on your neck. You made a low sound of discomfort and he lifted your leg higher.

“I love that you think I care that it hurts. This is my fucking pussy, mine to fuck. Mine to taste. Mine to breed. You’re a sick little whore.” His filthy words made your eyes roll back as he built up rhythm.

Cooper kissed you fiercely, moaning against your lips and you both moved furiously. You were devouring each other that you momentarily forgot the circumstances or how fucked this was.

Your climax hit you, the uncoiling in your stomach exploded and your back arched. His hand pulled off your throat and went to pull your thighs over his shoulders. He hit a deeper angle that made you unable to hold in a scream.

He watched his cock fill you up over and over again. Coated in cum and blood.

“Feel me in your guts, little one? How fucking desperate do you have to be to let a killer do this?” He growled and rasped. His own release was approaching and you groggily let your head lull.

Ropes of his cum coated your insides and you felt his dick pulse in you. Another orgasm hit you and you could barely chase it. Cooper set your thighs down, scooping his arms underneath you and set you on his lap. In a cradle. You both panted and his sweaty forehead rested against yours.

“Did that fulfill that fantasy of yours?” Cooper chuckled and you nodded with barely audible reply. You had both established this scene days ago.

You’d wanted to fuck a man in a mask. And he had been happy to entertain your ideas. Especially since you and Cooper had been seeing each other for a few weeks. You hadn’t told your father yet.

He rubbed your back as fatigue came over you. “I wasn’t too hard on you, right?” He asked and you shook your head.

“Mmm. It was perfect.” You whispered and drifted off.

Cooper smiled and pushed your hair off your neck. He held you securely and let his mind fall to the truth. It was no coincidence he was so good at this role play.

You sell a good lie by incorporating the truth. Cooper was the Ghostface killer. And he was also your boyfriend. He wouldn’t ever kill you but he did revel in the genuine flash of fear in your eyes.

He had his next victim planned out. A regular at the diner you worked at. It was a very successful night.

Tagging: @xxbimbobunnyxx @cxrrodedcoffin @userchai @hereforthehitsbaby @hibiskooks @rosaleelovesdilfs @rubyfruitjungle @justafangirls-blog @amethystblackkchaos @strangererotica I can’t remember everyone because I’m exhausted

[delicatebarness]

barnes' girl | chapter one

Summary: A conversation explores the evolving relationship and tension.

Warning: Sexual Content/Mentions of BDSM. Consent and Authority. Emotional Tension. Pressure to Participate.

Word Count: 1295

Spotify Playlist | Support: Ko-FI

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A/N: I am in love with them okay. - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as mine. - B

Barnes' Girl: Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in this series. | @im-alestan | @carrotlove | @scott-loki-barnes | @mrsstuckyboo

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick | @sapphirebarnes | @rach2602 | @thetorturedbuckydepartment | @mrsnikstan | @lanabuckybarnes

Delivering flowers to Bucky's office had become a comforting routine. After arranging the bouquets each week, you would find yourself lingering a bit longer, savoring the quiet moments filled with unspoken tension and a growing familiarity.

One sunny afternoon, the sun’s warmth filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a golden glow across the office. You placed yet another bouquet of pink hydrangeas on his desk, their vibrant petals adding splashes of color to the otherwise muted, elegant decor.

Bucky leaned back in his leather chair, his eyes following your movements. The room was filled with the soft hum of the city below and the faint rustle of papers on his desk. “Doll,” he began, his voice deep and smooth, cutting through the silence. “Have you ever heard of dominants and submissives?”

Your heart skipped a beat, your hands momentarily freezing on the vase. “Yeah,” you paused, for a moment, before continuing, “a little bit,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. Clearing your throat, you added. “Not a lot though.”

A knowing smile curved his lips. “Interesting.”

The dynamic between you two had shifted subtly over the weeks. He casually would remind you to go to bed early, focus on your studies, and do small things that carried a weight of authority. It was something you both fell into effortlessly and right then, he wanted to address it directly.

Bucky tapped a few keys on his keyboard, and his monitor displayed an open webpage about the lifestyle. He turned the screen slightly towards you. “How familiar are you with all this?” he asked, his tone casual but his eyes sharp.

Your cheeks flushed, and you shifted on your feet. “Not much,” you admitted, feeling a mix of shyness and curiosity. You had never been in a relationship securely enough to explore this side of yourself, and the prospect was both thrilling and intimidating.

He watched you intently, noting every subtle shift in your posture. “Why don’t you take a seat,” he suggested, gesturing to the chair opposite his desk. Your movements were hesitant as you walked over and sank into the plush leather seat, feeling the coolness of the material against your skin. The office felt larger from this perspective, the vastness of the space making you feel even smaller and more exposed. He continued to study you, his gaze unwavering as you settled in.

“It’s a fascinating world, little doll,” he said softly, leaning forward. “One that requires trust, communication, and respect.”

You squeezed your thighs together under the table, feeling the heat rising up your neck. His words were getting to you, stirring something deep inside. You gulped down the water he had set out for you on the desk, your throat suddenly dry.

Bucky leaned back, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. “Is this conversation making you uncomfortable, doll?” he asked, his voice laced with a knowing edge.

Refusing to meet his gaze, your eyes darted to the art on the walls and the filled bookshelves. He decided to test you. “Look at me, baby,” he commanded, his voice firm and resonant with authority. It cut through your hesitations and drew your gaze instantly to him.

Your eyes snapped to his, your pupils dilated, and your breathing quickened. “You like the idea, don’t you?” he asked, his eyes searching yours.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding. “I... I think so,” you managed to murmur, unable to form coherent words.

“That’s good,” he said, leaning forward slightly. “Because I’ve grown quite fond of you, doll, and I was wondering if exploring this together is something that would interest you.”

Your mind raced, and the silence stretched as you processed his words. “You don’t have to decide immediately,” he added gently. “Nothing will change if you choose not to. We’ll continue our meetings just as before, and this conversation will be forgotten.”

He stood, walking around the desk until he was beside you. His presence was overwhelming, and he gently tucked a stray hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered for a moment, sending a shiver down your spine. “Just think about it and let me know your decision, okay?”

“O-okay,” you stammered, your voice trembling.

“Good girl,” he purred, the words sending a thrill through you. The way he said it, the way it made you feel—it was intoxicating.

Deep down, you knew your decision had already been made, but there was a part of you that wanted to make him wait, to see how the anticipation would build, to savor the growing tension and excitement that each encounter brought.

~

Later that evening, you sat in the cozy confines of your apartment, the glow of your laptop screen illuminating your face. The room was dimly lit, the soft hum of the city outside barely audible over the quiet music playing from your roommate's room and the occasional creak of the building settling. You had been replaying the conversation with Bucky all day, and now, curiosity had gotten the better of you.

As you typed "dominants and submissives" into the search bar, you felt a mixture of excitement and nervousness. Various articles, forums, and blogs popped up, and you began to delve into the information, absorbing the details about trust, communication, and the dynamics of such relationships. Reading through personal accounts and guides, your heart raced and the words stirred something deep within you.

Suddenly, the door to your room creaked open, and your roommate, Yelena, poked her head in. "Hey, do you want to come—" she started to ask, but her eyes quickly fell on your laptop screen. Her eyebrows shot up, and she let out a small, surprised yelp. "What are you looking at?"

You quickly tried to close the tab, but it was too late. Yelena sauntered over, her curiosity piqued. "Is this what I think it is?" she asked, a mischievous grin spreading across her face.

You felt your cheeks flush. "It's... research," you mumbled, not quite meeting her eyes.

Yelena plopped down on the bed beside you, peering at the screen. "Research, huh? Interesting choice of topic. Does this have anything to do with that little fancy flower delivery job of yours?" she teased, nudging you playfully.

You quickly minimized the window, trying to sound casual. “Uh, no, just some research for a class assignment. You know how it is.”

Yelena arched an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “Really? That looks pretty... involved for a university assignment.”

You forced a smile, feeling slightly flustered. “Yeah, well, it’s one of those projects where you end up diving deep into unexpected topics.”

She gave you a knowing look but decided not to push further. “Alright, if you say so. Anyway, I was about to head out to a party. Do you want to come along?”

Hesitating, you glance at the clock. “I’d love to, but I’ve got an early day tomorrow and need to get some rest.”

Yelena’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Oh, come on. It’s not just any party. I heard that Harley, the guy you’ve had a crush on for ages, is going to be there.”

Your resolve wavered. The thought of seeing Harley, whom you’d admired from afar, made your heart race. Reluctantly, you set your laptop aside. “Alright, fine. I’ll come with you. But just for a little while. I don’t want to stay out too late.”

Yelena grinned triumphantly. “Great! Let’s get ready then. It’ll be fun, and who knows, maybe you’ll get a chance to finally ‘talk’ to Harley.”

You followed her out of your room, a mix of excitement and apprehension bubbling inside you. As you prepared for the party, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the evening might hold surprises, both in the social scene and perhaps even in your thoughts about Bucky.

---

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[notmuchtofind]

public eye | d.s

pt2 here x

word count: 1.6k

tw: mentions of infertility and low appetite

synopsis: the lead up to the breakup between you 2

it's everywhere.

'Drew Starkey And y/f/n y/l/n SPLIT' ,

'What Happened Between Drew Starkey And y/f/n y/l/n?', 

'Drew and y/n Messy Breakup?!"

you can't escape what you're trying to forget...

You and Drew were together for 3 and a half years, you guys went public with your relationship pretty quickly, constantly making tiktoks and posting instagram stories of each other. It sent fans Wild! which caused you to gain a huge following on the internet, from fans of obx to just random people in general that simply enjoyed seeing your guys' relationship unfold.

you were the IT couple. Red carpets, premiers, award shows. you name it. you did It all with Drew. 

your life changed drastically when you met drew. and because you were doing it together it was all okay. more than okay, it was bliss.

It's been 2 months since you guys broke up, and even though neither of you had addressed it online yet, people started to speculate, people started to talk and people came to an assumption (which was correct) that you and Drew were no longer together. 

| a week before the break up |

*buzz* your phone vibrates...

its drew

Drew: Hey, plans have changed, I'm sorry I can't come see you tonight...reschedule? 

you sigh...

this is the 3rd time in 2 weeks he's cancelled your plans for something that's "just come up". You've never been the type to not trust Drew, he's always been truthful and you guys have been so transparent with each other ever since you got together, but something just feels off this time. you know that you guys have been struggling for the past couple of months with distance and lifestyle changes and it worries you that it's all getting a little too much for you both

Was it the brief mention of you wanting to try for a baby in the next 1-2 years? Maybe it scares him? but you struggle with your fertility and starting to look into starting a family now would prepare you for the next couple of years...

OR

Was it the long distance? He's busy shooting a new movie for Netflix which requires him to go back and forth between LA and Hawaii, its difficult because neither of you like LA enough to want to spend time here constantly, but you've compromised for drew, and with him not even being here half the time, it feels like a waste of time. and this text message just tops it off for you, you haven't seen him in a week, and your mainly here for him, it feels like a stab in the back.

you open your phone and tap on the message icon...

your thumbs hover over the keyboard for a while whilst you think of the right way to phrase how you feel

maybe it would be best to just have a talk in person? you wonder...

y/n: reschedule for when? 

Sent!

a few minutes go bye, which feels like hours

*buzz*

Drew: I'll see you tomorrow afternoon after shooting? Brunch?Downtown LA?

you sigh, you just feel like Drews being stale...no pet names? no I miss you, I love you? you know its small but you can't help but overthink

but you're determined to not let your worry show through the message sent back

y/n: yeh, let me know what time, i'll see you tomorrow. night drew...I love you Read 22:34 pm

no reply

your alarm rings  9:30am 

you groan and fumble to switch it off

picking up your phone you squint your eyes to read the message from Drew which was delivered at 7am, you guessed he had to get up early for filming.

drew: i'll be done around 1pm if you wanna meet me at the cafe?

y/n: yeh, see you there

you respond

'The cafe' , the cafe you and drew always visit when in LA for premiers and awards shows most of the years you've been together. you knew exactly where he was talking about.

12:30pm rolls around and you grab your car keys after slipping your shoes on, ready for your 'date?"( if you can call it that?) with drew. The nerves kick in as you have a sinking feeling that he's got something to say... you switch on your car and drive over to downtown LA.

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

You grab your bag from the passenger seat and step out of the car after parking it down a side road near the place you're meeting. As your walking towards the cafe you see drew stud outside the main entrance on the phone...he looks to be laughing

as soon as he clocks you walking towards him he stutters, his face slightly drops and fumbles to end the call "yeh yeh, okay speak soon" drew mumbles.

drew pulls you into a hug as you step closer, its a tight hug, he kisses you on the head before pushing you back slightly, his hands on your shoulders

"how've you been?'' Drew says. "umm, yeh not bad" you smile slightly, nodding as you lie through your teeth. you've been nothing but a mess for the past couple of weeks.

"who was you chatting too just there" you nod, looking down at the phone in his hand

"oh, urm just, my costar in this movie, the directors wanting to change a part of the script so we was just like...discussing that" he chuckles nervously 

"oh I see" you shrug 

taking a seat inside, you watch and Drew goes up to the counter, ordering you both a coffee, he offers to order you food but you refuse. your appetite has been non existent for the past weeks, food was the last thing on your mind.

Drew sits opposite you after placing the coffees on the table. you play with your hair whilst staring at Drews hands gripping his coffee tight...

"so y/n...listen, I'm sorry I couldn't come see you yesterday, I, I uhhh..." drew stutters "I went for a drink with a few of the people from the set and uh... and I was up early this morning, i'd have had to of travel 45 minutes in an uber to come see you last night yanno...like, shit I dont know... it wasn't practical' he squirms, fumbling over his thoughts

it may have been minor, but you feel your blood boiling, you don't feel any apologetic energy coming from drew, it feels more like guilt, not that he's let you down, more the guilt that he enjoyed himself more than he would've with you last night...you're fuming

'stay calm y/n' you think too yourself

"But you knew we made plans for the evening Drew? you couldn't not drink for one night just to make sure you could see me?"

he leans over the table slightly "look y/n/n im trying to create a bond with these people I-"

you cut him off. 

"Seriously, what the fuck drew?!" you scoff "listen to yourself, it's been shit between us for months now and you think doing shit like this is going to fix anything?" you gesturing with your hands, trying to say slightly under your breath so the whole cafe cant tell your arguing

its silent for a moment whilst you both think of what to say next

"you know I'm struggling ?" you say through cracks in your voice, looking at drew, tearing up 

you don't want him to see you cry, you hate crying in front of drew, never mind in public

he just looks at you, guilty and wide eyed, he tilts back on his chair and sighs whilst pinching the bridge of his nose.

"fuck y/n, I dont know" he looks away...

" I'm feeling a lot of pressure right now, I'm working and I'm away and the last thing I want right now is a child y/n! do you understand?"

you're taken back... you've spent the last 3 years moving away from your hometown, supporting Drew, making a life for yourself wherever he goes but he can never meet you in the middle?! he won't even consider thinking through the thought of one day starting a family with you? you're just asking for a discussion about what the future might hold but he gets defensive every time it's brought up...

"Is that it?" you ask " is that what's turned you so cold?"

he leans over trying to grab your hand "fuck...baby, no I-" 

you flinch as you cut him off

"drew if it's not what you want and it's what I eventually want, are we even right for each other? what are we doing? you don't care for me like you usto, you're not the same, your a dick" you say trying not to shout

"I don't know what I want right now?" Drew states, not looking you in the eyes.

How's he being so calm? Why is he doing this? This is not like drew.

"fuck you" You stand up out of the chair and walk right out of the cafe doors, tears start streaming down your face and you try to hide you face with the palm of your hand...

*snap* followed by a flicker

*snap* *snap*

fuck.

you look around...

"is that paparazzi?" you mumble to yourself 

you walk faster to your car quickly opening the door and throwing your bag on the backseat, you fumble to turn the engine on and see slight flickers through the rearview mirror...this is the last thing you need right now.

part 2!!!!!

[r0ttenhearts]

never made it

scaramouche x long distance! reader

sypnosis: the distance between you and scaramouche weighs heavily on your relationship

warnings: angst, no comfort, arguments; fuckboy scara, suggestive themes mentioned

graduation day. the day scaramouche looked forward to since his first year, working tirelessly to earn his degree from vahumana. with his diploma in hand, he stepped outside, his thumb hovering over the small call icon on his phone. he had one person in mind to tell about his big day; you.

you had known scaramouche since his days in secondary school. as much as he had hated to admit it at the time, he was fond of you. he never admitted it out loud to you until your freshman year of high school.

naive and young, you both loved each other with all you could give.

that was until your senior year. you had different dreams that resulted in scaramouche applying to a university on the other side of teyvat. you were understanding, not wanting to hold him back from his dreams. so you made a promise. a promise to stay together and reunite once you both completed college. you would give the long distance thing a try.

scaramouche tapped on the call button next to your contact, fingers nervously tapping on the paper he held in his grip.

“scara?” your voice it’s usual gentle tone you held when addressing scaramouche.

“i finally graduated.”

he paused, noticing your silence on the other line.

“i can come home now.” he spoke gently into his phone.

“that’s great scara. im happy for you.” you seemed off to him. he thought you’d be more excited for the news that he’d be returning home to you, but you sounded indifferent.

“yeah, i can come home now and get back to you and all the things i missed out on.” he smiled at the thought, being back home with you and the country he had known his whole life.

“what do you mean, get back to me?”

“you know, get to be together again. but in person, no more facetime calls.” he nervously laughed.

“you left me seven months ago scara.”

“what’re you talking about. (y/n)?” scaramouche no longer felt at ease from when he had first started the call.

“you left me for the girl from the rtawahist darsha.”

“that’s not funny, (y/n). cut the bullshit; i wouldn’t do that. not so close to grad.”

“but you did scara.”

he heard you sigh on the other side of the line.

“this isn’t real.”

“what do you mean it isn’t? im talking to you right now.”

“we stopped talking completely when you left me. you cheated and cut me off completely.”

“i wouldn’t do that to you, (y/n). this isn’t fucking funny.” his heart was racing, voice raised to almost a shout.

“why don’t you ask haypasia then?” you spoke coldly now, the gentle tone you held was now gone.

that’s right, he had almost forgotten. admist the four years scaramouche had been away at college, he had grown bored of you. he no longer wanted to read words on a screen or see you through his phone screen. it wasn’t enough.

he had grown pent up from not touching a girl, or rather you, for over three years.

so he decided to do something about it. he wouldn’t let you hold him back. what did it matter if you were in a relationship but halfway across teyvat?

scaramouche had little to no trouble getting haypasia to go out with him. he had been partners with her over a collaborative assignment their houses had partnered up for and could tell just how infatuated she was with him.

he didn’t regret it when he invited her back to his dorm room, or when he would hold her in his arms, your calls and messages left on delivered.

as much as he enjoyed the time with haypasia, he still had one thing to take care of. you. your calls and messages would be sent more often now, your worry and concern only irked him more and more whenever he would think about you.

you were worried something terrible had happened to him as he would reply less and less to your messages, your friday night facetime dates now going missed. you were worried for him, but he was so vague and so cold. but you loved him. so you stayed.

so for your birthday he gave you the best gift he could think of.

the truth.

he broke the news to you on the phone. he had found someone else, someone better.

“i just can’t do the distance anymore.” he irritably sighed. he could hear you breaking with every word, shaking breath, and long pauses inbetween every word you spoke.

“you should have told me. i would have applied to the akademiya with you scara. you promised me. you promised you’d try and make this work.”

“yeah, well, i lied. im a guy, i have needs. i can’t get off to pictures of you anymore, i need the real thing.”

“you’re so selfish scaramouche.” you spat into the phone.

he scoffed from hearing his full name in your voice. “oh is (y/n) big and bad now? think that hurts me? well it doesn’t. i just needed to end this so i can make things official with her.”

“did it really mean nothing to you?” you spoke quietly now, your heart was torn to a million pieces. but he didn’t care.

“yes.”

“okay. goodbye scaramouche.”

before he could speak another word you hung up. he would later find out you had blocked him on everything. there was no way for him to contact you. and he was okay with that. he had a new future ahead of him with a new girl. he didn’t need to spend time worrying about what could have been with his ex.

he didn’t expect to miss you, he was fine ignoring your messages and calls before but, this was different.

the silence on his phone seemed unusual. normally he would swipe past his notifications of you from the top of his screen. but now he wouldn’t get any notifications, besides the occasional email or announcement from the akademiya.

the uneasy feeling in his chest only seemed to grow day by day until graduation day. he only had been looking forward to it just so he could get back to you. but with you gone now, what had he been waiting for?

“your” dry laugh echoed through his phone speaker, interrupting his thoughts.

“you see? it’s over, scaramouche.”

“don’t call me that, (y/n).” he grit his teeth.

“just like you wanted.” you whispered before the call ended.

he fumbled for his phone, typing out a message to your contact, only for it to go undelivered.

“are you alright?”

scaramouche’s head shot up from the sound of haypasia’s voice. she stood in her graduation robes, a look of concern etched on her face as she walked to scaramouche.

pressing a cold hand to scaramouche’s forehead, she led him back into the ceremony hall. “i was so worried about you! i was looking for you everywhere…”

her voice trailed off in his mind. he didn’t care to pay attention to her now. all he could think about was the phone he held in his hand, a phone you had blocked all contact from. your decision that he had chose for himself.

taglist: @whorerificstuff @ayameei @samarill @sakiimeo @astrolomona @dearsumire @saeism @shoheartluv @0kauy @lelemnh @aqualesha @msdevilis @linkookie197 @beriiov @xiaonscaraswife @foxlover1144 @gh0sts0up @darliingyu @magica-ren n @scara6 @Maxineslair @jihyuniepark @atanukileaf @kenmabfasf @

[brailsthesmolgurl]

WARDROBE MALFUNCTION!

A smol bird requested for this to be written and so here I am, playing fairy godmother! If any of you have any sort of requests, just drop me a dm as I am revived from my death and ready to write more delulus as your solulus!

Context: What happens when your outfit decides NOT to cooperate with you? What will the boys do for you?

Disclaimer: This one-shot is created with me studying their lore on various websites and social media so that I could get a better idea on what colours they like/represent and what style they lean towards. Some of you may disagree but its okay! You can read it as it is and add in your own imagery of a suitable outfit by your hubbies! Warnings: Fluff that might rot your brains.

RAFAYEL

"I am almost done with this piece," Rafayel spoke, eyes still glued to his canvas, one hand holding up his messily stained colour palette, while the other held the brush as he drew strokes across the canvas. "Why don't you go and get changed as you wait for me to finish off this bit, yeah?"

"Yes sir." You quirkily replied and you stood up, spotting him sending you a teasing look given the way you addressed him. Earlier on, some strangers had came by Rafayel's mansion with Thomas to deliver some clothes. Apparently, these clothes are custom made by those luxurious brands specifically for Rafayel. Thomas addressed it as this was one of the ways the luxury brands show their support towards Rafayel's works. ONE OF THE WAYS... At this point, you are convinced that Rafayel is a huge deal and having luxurious brands begging on their knees to work with him sounded like a dream that would never come true to you.

The dress that sat on the bed was delivered for you as well, as per Rafayel's request. There was objection amongst the team that were handling the sponsorship and ambassador deals for the brand. But Rafayel spoke through the phone like he owns the company. "If she does not get a gown, then our business ends. Right now." He hung up abruptly, and the next thing he knew, the dress showed up at his door in less than 30 minutes.

Any brands, regardless luxurious or not, knows the right way and only way to please Rafayel. One wrong move and you are off the chart and some other brand may easily replace you. Hence, nobody dares to mess with Rafayel. Except for you. "The dress on the bed is yours!" He shouted from the living room and you picked up the dress.

The chiffon textured dress is of a forest green colour, going all the way down to your ankles. The strapless design made you gulped as you are not used to outfits of this measure, given the nature of your work, whereas your attire has to be 'appropriate for work in times of need'. Touching the inner material, you sighed in relief as you realised that there was bra padding for you hence you do not have to go all the way out to get a new bra just for this event.

Putting on the dress and zipping it up was easy, and you fit almost perfectly into the dress. The keyword being ALMOST. As you lifted your hands up, the dress started sliding down like it is a floatie on a wet water slide and woop, off it went and onto the ground. You panicked, bending down in one fell swoop and trying to gather the dress so that you can pull it up to your chest again.

But it does not let you go past the waist area unless you unzip it. Groaning, you struggled to find the zip as the dress is really puffy and you did not want to ruin the designer dress. "Is everything okay?" Rafayel stood at the doorway, leaning against the side of his door, as he watched you with amusement written all over his face. He has been standing there for quite a while hasn't he?

You gasped, pulling whatever that is on the floor to cover your chest area and he walked over, analysing the dress and scowling when he found out the reason. "I should have gotten them to measure you instead of just bringing you a standard fit." He took his phone out of his pocket and tapped on the screen a couple of times. His eyes looked back at you and you bit your lip in embarassment. "Your curves are way too beautiful to be hidden amongst this pile of leaves."

His comment made you giggled. Guess he has the same thought as you. "Toss the dress aside darling, I will get you a new one." Another few taps of the finger, he shows you the dress he has in mind. A purple dress with extravagant sleeves, puffing out like how a jellyfish would and you instantaneously knew why he opted for this dress. "I like purple better anyways."

"But wait Rafayel... this dress is not entirely scrap, maybe I can sew a temporary knot on it to tighten the top so it won't fall off. And there is really no need for you to get another custom one for me as we are running out of time." Your suggestion made him stare at you, purple-blue pupils blown wide as if he has really just witnessed a shark eating grass. iykyk.

He walked over and grabbed you by your waist and pulled you close to him, so close that you could hear the sound of his heart against yours. But at this moment, maybe he could hear yours louder than his. "Nobody can put a price on your love for me. EVER. But, I can sure as hell throw out any price on anyone, regardless the amount, as a representation of how much you worth to me." You looked away immediately, eyes stared at the arms that were holding you in place. He kissed your forehead, chuckling, before he pressed his phone against his ear. "Now, let's see who can make this dress for the price I am willing to pay in 30 minutes time." he makes me feel something

ZAYNE

You waited on a bench in front of Akso Hospital. You figured it would be a great idea to wait for Zayne as he finishes work early today and you might be able to grab dinner with him. You were mindlessly scrolling through your phone, looking through your daily for-you-page before a shadow loomed over you. You looked up and no doubt, it is Zayne aka the great and almightly Elsa.

"How long have you been sitting here?" He asked you, before handing you a candy that he had fished out from the pocket of his trench coat. "I was planning to meet you slightly later at your condo." The thought of him initially wanting to surprise you made your heart fluttered. You see, Zayne is a more upfront guy so having him to plan surprises are one of the uncalled scenarios.

"I had only been here for a couple of minutes." You lied, taking the candy out of his palm and unwrapped it before you tossed it into your mouth. The raise of his eyebrow towards you made your breath hitched as he knew you too well that you could not lie to him in his face. "Fine, I had waited here since 5pm." This made Zayne looked down at his wrist watch.

"So it's been an hour and 15 minutes?" He side eyed you and you admitted it by nodding your head. "Next time, it would be better if you were to just wait for me at home. If it wasn't for a full deck today at the hospital, I might just be covering shifts for other people and that might be inconvenient for you." But, he himself actually noticed you exactly an hour and 15 minutes, from his office's window, before his upcoming surgery. He had another three surgeries lined up for the night, but fearing that you may end up waiting the whole night for him, he decided to cancel his schedule for the night and transfer the case to other doctors. Even workaholics take a break. iykyk

"But I just wanted to come over to check up on you. I even chose to sit outside so that you would not be distracted as you are working." You pouted, hands picking at the hem of your shirt. You felt Zayne's hand landed on the top of your head, a gesture of love and comfort. He patted and smoothed your brunette strands back and you stared up at him. "I shall wait for you at home next time okay?"

"Now that's a good girl." killmeplease Zayne smiled warmly. "Now, lets get you back alright? My car is parked right by the road side. Come on." Hands around your waist, he slowly walked you over to his car. The smell of his cologne lingered on your nose, the smell of mint and dashes of cinnamon. Just like his personality, icy as mint but warm and welcoming as cinnamon once you get to know him.

He opened the car door for you and as you walked over to get into the car, your shirt got hooked against one of the metal wires that went astray from the metal fencing and the next thing you heard was the sound of a ripping cloth. You yelped as you stumbled and Zayne slotted himself right in front of you, shocked as well and using his body to block you from falling further. "Oh my..." Your cursed under your breath as your hands were against his washboard abs, steadying yourself. doublekill

He guided you into the car slowly before getting into the driver side himself. When he had started the car and turned on the air conditioning, he turned to look at you. "How bad is the rip?" He asked and you lifted the hem of your shirt, showing the rip that is around 4cm long.

"Why does this have to happen to one of my favourite shirt?" You frowned, fingers won't stop touching and fidgeting with the ripped edge.

"Do they still sell this shirt?" Zayne asked, hands reaching over to tug against the shirt, as if to examine the material of the outfit. The shake of your head made him sigh and he gestured to the glovebox. "Open the glovebox and take out the black pouch please."

You did as you were told and you watched in confusion as he took off his trench coat and placed it onto your lap. The coat still radiating warmth that was collected off of his body heat. He opened the black pouch and laid it flat on the arm rest of his car, and inside of the pouch was an array of threads and needles. "Are these suture needles?"

"Yes." His response was prompt. "Take off your shirt and hand it to me please." He requested and you gulped. Using the trench coat to block his view, you slowly took off your shirt and then wrapped his trench coat around your whole front. You knew that he had probably seen many naked bodies given his line of work but something about this scenario, with you being with him only in a car, felt very intimate and it made you very anxious. "You know how to sew?"

"I am a doctor, I know how to suture. And it is the same concept as sewing, but only with different kinds of needles and threads." He then started sewing, his concentration a trait you find admirable. It did not took him long when he finished sewing your shirt and he handed it back to you, the thread sewed on has gaps of equal length and was tied off neatly. As expected of one of the top doctors from Akso Hospital. As he started driving, he added. "Although I had managed to sew the shirt for you, I believe with my connections, I would be just as capable to find you the same shirt. Then, you would never have to complain about this being your only favourite shirt."

XAVIER

You were going about your day in your own house before you heard your doorbell ringing. You placed your bowl of cereal down and took a glance on the clock on your phone. Who dares to threaten your peaceful weekend? You went over to the door and you opened it to reveal your blond hair lover. "Xavier?" You asked, eyebrows furrowed when he smiled at you.

"Good morning, I see someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed." He teased and stepped in, holding out a parcel for your. "I believe this belongs to you?" The small rip at the top side of your parcel indicated that he probably took a peek on what's inside. Acknowledging the parcel, you took it off of his hands and you blushed, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind your ear.

"Good morning to you too. I guess I might have accidentally wrote your level instead of mine." You bit your bottom lip and you heard him chuckle in return. "But thanks for coming down to deliver this to me when you could have just asked me to get it from you." "But I wanted to see you personally. And seeing the clothes that are in the parcel, I thought I could get to watch you try them on too." His blunt answer made you stare at him like a mad man. His blue eyes however, glinted with nothing but honesty. This guy may be mysterious but he sure is straightforward in stating what he has on his mind. He probably noticed the way you reacted and he took a step back, retracing his words and slightly coughing to ease the awkwardness. "I mean, I would like to see you trying out these new outfits that you had gotten for yourself. It would be a good past time for me."

You chuckled at how goofy this guy is and gestured towards him to go and sit at the couch. You went into the room to get yourself changed and it was as if today is your fashion show day. You strutted out in different outfits, layered against one another and watched the way Xavier would react to you, either fascinated, or straight down confused. There was even this one time, he would just have a blank expression where you wore an oversized shirt under your tshirt. Clothing trends on the streets nowadays baffles him and he wondered if he was the one that was left out from the fashion ring.

Your last outfit featured you in a semi see through tank top and a pair of cargo pants. Not to mention, the tank top seemed to be too small for you as the way the blond boy sees it, it was holding onto your figure for dear life and barely leaving anything more to one's imagination. And the thought itself ticked him off. When you looked over towards Xavier, he does not look surprised nor confused, but rather bland. "What do you think?" Your tone came off to be amused and you did a twirl in front of him before you took a seat right next to him.

Xavier anxiously gulped and looked away from you, his voice low as he muttered. "I don't think this outfit looks nice on you, girlfriend." The way he shifted in his seat made you cornered him against the couch even more, wanting a better explanation. "The top you are wearing. I don't like it."

"And why so?" You asked, looking down at your top and adjusting it. "This is the trend nowadays, they call it the Y2K trend I think. And this tank top was on sale, so I just got it."

"I can buy you some other clothes. Even the ones that are not going to be on sale." He retorted, eyeing the tank top you were wearing with an underlying anger. "I just don't think I would like to see you wearing this in public. It is too revealing, and I guess tight on your body."

His answer painted your cheeks red and you gasped. What were you thinking? Of course you had forgotten about his possesive nature. He does not show it much and having such a pretty boy face like him further disconnects the word 'possessive' from his character. He reached into his hoodie's front pocket and pulled out his phone, opening up an app and handed the phone to you. When you refused to take it, he lifted his torso off of the couch to 'force' you to take his phone. Just like how you had previously pressed your body against him, this is his turn to take his small and sweet revenge. You panicked as he closed the gap between you two and within the next minute, he was pressed against you, one of his hand at the side of your head and another still holding his phone up to you, his gaze intense. "Just choose whatever you want from my phone, my card information is all in there. And perhaps before you check out, you can let me double check on the outfits you are getting." He low-key demanded before he explained himself for such a decision. "I just don't like nor want people staring wrongfully at what I treasure the most."

Another fluff for another day. I already did my best in having to think of different wardrobe malfunctions as I did not want one theme of wardrobe malfunction to be stagnant across the whole story for all three of the boys. SO I hope you would understand my lovelies. :,) I am very very free so I will be posting more regularly for these few weeks. SO please do show me more love and support as that would aid me in my motivation in writing!

Do check out my other works as well!

HOW WOULD THE BOYS REACT TO YOU FORGETTING ABOUT YOUR DATE?

DAMNATION

Hope your Delulu is satisfied my lovelies <3

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Where Heroes Flew

When Florelia had gone to work today she had expected it to be a day like any other. She’d man her post in orbital control, direct cargo traffic from the spaceport on the surface of the planet to the orbital lanes in the upper atmosphere, and then head to her quarters for the night and binge some trans-system entertainment. She was hoping to catch some of the Dorgan Finals being played out on the surface. The matches had drawn in close to a billion offworlders to the event and was the largest gathering seen on Zenbara in decades.

She was just about to get up for her designated lunch break when she noticed something odd on her tracking monitor. One of the inbound ships was bypassing the waiting que for reentry and was attempting to skip ahead of the waiting ships for reentry.

Putting her headset back on, Florelia flipped through the communication channels until she had the channel for the marked ship.

“Inbound vessel DCN4, return to your position in que.” She transmitted.

No response.

“Inbound vessel DCN4, this is orbital control; return to your position in que immediately.”

Florelia wondered if the ships communicator was broken, but before she could call up an engineer to confirm the inbound vessel suddenly increased speed and began blowing past the que of waiting ships.

“DCN4 cut engines and respond immediately, this is your final warning.”

“You were given many warnings,” a strange voice came back, “and now we are the culmination of all your sins. We are the children of Nu’n and in his name we shall punish the nonbelievers and cleanse them from this universe.”

As the voice continued delivering their speech Florelia ran a scan of DCN4 to confirm its cargo. When the scan came back her eyes went wide and she slammed her fist into the panic button built into her console. Sirens began blaring as her supervisor came over as Florelia opened a direct line to orbital security.

“Security, apprehend ship DCN4 now!” Florelia shouted into her transmitter.

“What’s wrong?” her supervisor asked as he came up to her finally. Florelia turned to let him see her screen.

“I believe DCN4 is under the control of terrorist elements and is loaded with over 900 thousand tons of Genthi explosives.”

No sooner had the words left her mouth did her supervisor tap his com piece in his ear and shout, “Security move your asses now! Grab DCN4 and bring it to a halt.”

Entering in his command codes he then addressed the entire line of waiting ships still in que.

“Attention all vessels, evacuate the area immediately. Divert courses away from lane 71-93; repeat, all vessels evacuate the area immediately!”

Florelia watched on her scanner as the security ships left the station. She watched as they pushed their engines to the max to catch up to the rogue vessel but even at max speed they wouldn’t be able to catch it in time. Calculating the trajectory, the computer predicted that the terrorists were steering themselves directly towards the Dorgan Finals stadium on the planet below.

“Should we issue an evacuation for the stadium?” she asked her supervisor. To her surprise he shook his head.

“It wouldn’t matter. With that much explosives it’ll turn everything within a 500km radius into the world’s largest crater.”

Florelia couldn’t speak as the horror of the situation set in. The devastation about to unfold would be the worst terrorist attack in the known universe.

A sudden beep from her console made Florelia look back and see that while many of the other civilian vessels were scattering one ship had begun moving towards the terrorist ship.

“What in the niv’nar….”

Florelia brought up the information about the secondary contact and saw it was a human mining ship designated the “Jackdaw”.

“Orbital control to human vessel Jackdaw, what are you doing?” Florelia asked as she realigned the transmitter to communicate to the human ship. “You have been instructed to evacuate the area.”

“I thought about it,” A young cheerful voice came back over the radio, “but my pappy taught me that when a robber comes at you you don’t show them the door; you show them your arm.”

Not understanding what the human was talking about she looked up to see the live camera feeds being displayed on the main monitors. DCN4 was long and narrow, while the human Jackdaw was bulky and looked as if it had been welded together with scrap metal.

It looked as if the Jackdaw was going to block DCN4 but as soon as the cargo ship drew close the mining ship ignited its engines and lazily drifted above the cargo vessel as it blew by. As it passed underneath the mining ship Florelia watch as a dozen compartments opened up on the mining ship and grappling arms the size corvettes shot out and latched on to DCN4.

The arms soon went taut and the Jackdaw ignited its engines to full in a dazzlingly bright display of light.

Like a fisherman wrangling a mighty sea creature, the Jackdaw tried to pull the terrorist ship back into orbit and give the security ships a chance to disable the vessel before it could carry out its task. Every set of eyes in the control room was locked to the main monitor as the DCN4 engines burned brighter and the ship veered left and right to try and shake off the Jackdaw.

The security ships had almost made it to DCN4 when several of the grappling arms tore away chunks of DCN4’s hull. Each of the security ships swung to avoid the debris but were struck by the whiplash of the grappling arms and exploded in a cloud of burnt metal. To the horror of orbital control one of the grappling arms swung back and damaged a few of the Jackdaw’s engines as well.

With renewed fervor the terrorist ship began plunging once more into the atmosphere with the Jackdaw still holding on with what few grappling arms remained. Though it refused to let go of the terrorist ship, it was a struggle it could not win.

“Orbital control to Jackdaw, you’ve done everything you can; disengage and get out of there.” Florelia transmitted to the Jackdaw.

“Not everything,” came the reply over the radio, “I got one last trick up my sleeve.”  

Florelia was going to ask what they meant when the Jackdaw began retracting the grappling arms while they still held on to DCN4. Slowly the arms pulled the two vessels closer and closer together as new energy warning sirens started off.

“That crazy bastard’s going to make a jump.” Florelia heard her supervisor say in disbelief.

“Jackdaw, if you attempt to make a jump in orbit-“ Florelia began but the human captain cut her off.

“It’s the last trick I got to play lassie.” They said in their chipper tone.

“There’s no guarantee you’ll make it out of the jump intact.” She persisted. “No ship has ever withstood a jump while in a gravity well.”

“First time for everything I suppose.”

The two ships were nearly touching hulls as the Jackdaw’s jump drive neared full power.

“Why are you doing this? You don’t know this world or these people; why give your life for them?”

To her surprise the human captain laughed over the coms.

“When someone’s in trouble you don’t stop to ask for details, you just help them.”

With that the two ships hulls finally touched and the Jackdaw ignited its jump drive. For a moment both ships blurred in and out of the atmosphere as DCN4 desperately tried to free itself from the mining ship’s grasp.

In a final bright flash the two ships made the jump out of the atmosphere, leaving behind a trail of scrap metal that slowly burned away as it fell to the planet below. To the public below it looked as if a series of elaborate fireworks were going off to celebrate the day’s events while those in orbit held a silent vigil for the unknown human captain who had just saved billions of lives.

For all the barbarity the human race has been known for it was easy to forget that there were still those amongst their people who would lay down their lives for strangers without ever needing a word of thanks.  

[vnards]

Mafia141 pt3

This is not edited atm :)

enjoy...

He returns to the same diner a few days later, this time near midnight. The parking lot empty, the 24 hr sign on and prominent in the window. He parked half a mile away, preferring to secure the perimeter before the meeting.

Gaz and Johnny were already inside in the booth Ghost marked earlier.

He tried his best to keep his mind on the layout of the diner, entrances and exits, the more secure areas in the building in the back. Every time he visualized the back, there was always you. Gliding through the diner like it was your domain, lighting up the place. Those eyes on him like they did.

Ghost fiddled with the napkin still in his pocket, his mind going back and forth between reaching out to you and keeping himself away. But like a siren call, he couldn’t shake himself of you.

As he entered the diner, he scanned the area. Gaz and Johnny spotted him first, Johnny winking at him just because he can. Ghost ignores him and heads to the bar, posting up as lookout for the meeting ahead.

Gaz’s voice clicked to life in Ghost’s ear, “10 minutes til. All good?”

Ghost grumbled an affirmative, looking around the empty bar, he knew someone would be working, but he hasn’t seen them yet. Ghost felt off. He didn’t like feeling off.

His fingers begin to tap when you burst through the door from the back. His fingers stopped.

The second you saw a familiar face, or half a face, you lit up with recognition and excitement. Ghost’s forehead creased with confusion, he looked behind you to see if someone would follow, but it was quiet.

“Hi, Simon.” You chirped, the smile wrinkles disappearing as you gave him that warm welcome like you did the first time.

“That the pretty bird ye been talking about, Si?” Johnny teased through his ear piece.

Ghost ignored him, “What are you doing here?”

Your smile faltered a bit, playing it off with a chuckle, “I picked up an extra shift.” You explained.

“By yourself?” He scanned the back again, waiting for someone else to emerge. Ghost found himself irritated they would let you work by yourself.

You shrugged, “My shift partner canceled so it’s just me.” You read something in Ghost’s face as you continued, “Don’t worry

You shrugged, “My shift partner canceled so it’s just me.” You read something in his body language, “Don't worry,” you lower your voice so the other customers didn't hear you,  “I have a pocket knife in case of emergencies.” Your smile settles his nerves, only slightly. “Besides,” You moved with confidence as you walk past him to address the other “customers”, “You’d protect me if anything happens, right?” You give him a flirtatious wink as you pass.

Of course.

Ghost watches you head towards Gaz and Soap. There's a certain hypnotic sway that has pulled in Ghost once again. He almost misses the black SUV with no headlights on that passes the diner.

“A’ll take whatever ye'd recommend, birdie.” Ghost didn't even have to look back to know Johnny would have the biggest shit eating smirk, flashing his pretty blues at you. Ghost rolled his eyes.

“Don't mind him, princess.” Gaz excused, “We’ll take two coffees.”

“But I heard the pie here was good.” Your gentle giggle jingled in the empty diner.

You finished with them, the two gossiping like school girls as you made your way back over to the counter. “I'll be right back. Same drink as before?” Ghost nods.

You head back into the kitchen. “Bloody idiots,” Ghost mumbles Into his ear piece.

He glances down at his watch. Five minutes til.

The sooner this meeting was over, the sooner Ghost can run off these extra nerves. He doesn't like you being here, but there's nothing he can do about it. His fingers begin to tap for now.

It takes you a little bit to get all the drinks together. You finally come out, balancing all the mugs in your hand. You flash him a smile as you deliver his drink. Working so hard for us.

“Black SUV, 5 o’clock.” Gaz reports.

Ghost’s stomach churns. He glances over his shoulder behind him and spots the same SUV again. It’s not trying to park. You're walking past his seat balancing the drinks, unaware. The SUV begins to roll down its windows.

“Get down!”

The boys react quickly, like they’re trained to do. You don't.

Shameless cliffhanger check out my blog for more until I get some stuff ready...

Be good people! *mwah*

-Vnards

next part

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[chuuyrr]

GORGEOUS — NAKAHARA CHUUYA

⊹ CW(s): f! reader, famous! singer! reader, strangers to lovers, crushing (you fall first but he falls harder), heavy references to taylor swift and her reputation album, 3.9k words

⊹ SYNOPSIS: in which you write your crush a song, and he finds out

inspired by: gorgeous by taylor swift !

applause and cheers flood your ears as you stand before the stage, a smile on your red-painted lips, albeit a little breathless as you bring the microphone to your lips, ready to deliver your speech and express thanks for the award bestowed upon you.

what began as a passion for music and songwriting has grown into stardom, as evidenced by the best female musician award you were now receiving on stage, surrounded by other artists in the business and, most importantly, your fans.

just as you were ready to begin when another music artist, much older than you, interrupted you. you stood there perplexed, but then the much older and taller artist grins at you, almost darkly and mockingly.

"yo, [name]!" he exclaims into your microphone, stealing as he addresses you with such familiarity, "i'm really happy for you. i'mma let you finish, but, she has won the best video award of all times!" he exclaims, gesturing at the other female music artist sitting on the sides, but she looks just as perplexed as you.

"one of the best videos of all time, i tell you!" he says into the microphone again, facing the crowd as if rubbing salt in your open wound, then shoveling the microphone back to you as if nothing happened.

in any case, the sudden interruption of the said male performer stunned the entire stage and audience. as you move about the stage, you find yourself uncomfortably laughing and unsure what to do.

the audience suddenly begins to yell "boos!" instead of clapping and cheers, and your hands shake so much that you nearly drop the trophy in your grasp. the shame seeps deep into your flesh, and the fact that cameras were flashing everywhere and this awarding was also being done live didn't help.

you couldn't find your voice, and the stage appears to be tilting as your eyesight blurs.

your great moment, your glory, vanished in an instant.

your reputation.

as you hold the glass in your hand, you sigh and tap the rim before giving it a quick, delicate spin, allowing the ice to clink against the glass before you drink the burgundy liquid, letting the addictive yet mild taste of fermented grapes strike your tongue and throat.

you twirl the glass in your palm one more as you recall the incident that occurred during your awarding. you recall the dazzling lights of cameras, the gasps and shouts from the audience, and what's more, that very artist who humiliated even stated that you owed him something sensual for making you famous.

a smile tugs at your lips as you shake your head and look at the music playing in the pub. it served as a gentle reminder that this was your current situation.

even if you remember it like it was yesterday, it has been a while since then. customers at the bar are singing along to the fairly spiteful yet powerful tune and lyrics of your song, enjoying the piano and beat.

"but i got smarter, i got harder in the nick of time. honey, i rose up from the dead, i do it all the time. i got a list of names, and yours is in red, underlined—i check it once, then i check it twice, oh!" the crowd of the bar sings, jumping up and about with their drinks in hand.

"look what you made do! look what you just made me do!" they continue to sing the lyrics, some even dancing to the choreography while others were just cheering and such.

your little revenge song appears to have polarized music critics, with some praising your new direction and hailing it as a fierce comeback, while others were disappointed with your change of style from your usual romance-esque and heartbreak songs to a dark electroclash and dance-pop, as well as the hidden message that underpins it.

"huh, that was a nice build-up to a crescendo build in the pre-chorus from the sparse verses," a voice next to you comments.

you blink, your eyes widening and your heart trembling slightly.

shit. did you got recognized already?

you slowly turn your head, and there stands a red-brunet with his hair framing his face and a black fedora on top of his head. he's dressed in a white button-up shirt underneath a gray vest, a black choker, a black ribbon bolo tie kept together with a little silver clasp, an open black cropped jacket with sleeves pulled up at the elbows, black slacks, a black belt dropping off his right hip, and black low-arch shoes.

you can feel your heart pounding. this man appears to be a big deal, possibly like you? was he a music critic, perhaps? you thought you heard him say something about your song, “look what you made me do”, playing in the background, but you couldn't be sure.

but there was something oddly appealing about this man, and you found yourself glancing at his face rather than his suit, and…

ba.. dump..

you feel the blood rush into your cheeks and your heart skip a beat when you notice he has beautiful blue eyes that remind you of the ocean.

your gaze ultimately settles on the creases of his face, from his brows to his nose and all the way to his lips. he is so gorgeous that you find it difficult to swallow the lump growing in your throat, your words becoming tangled in your tangle of thoughts and feelings.

for a brief moment, you've forgotten what you were drinking and thinking about because he—this stranger—has taken over everything in your mind.

when he finally turns to you, allowing you to be face-to-face with him as he sits on the cushioned stool next to you, you shift in your seat, becoming nervous once more.

"are you okay?" he says, and you notice him watching at you carefully, but with some concern, as he notices your flushed cheeks and how you appeared to be a little shaken in your seat.

"wha—?" you murmur out, blinking in confusion.

he blinks back before narrowing his eyes slightly, a look of uncertainty on his face, yet the way he does it is igniting feelings inside your chest right now.

"i asked if you were okay. is everything okay, miss?" he asks again, and this time a chuckle escapes his lips.

"o-oh, yeah. i’m fine, no worries," you exhale, a sheepish smile on your face as you manage a brief fit of laughter. you were still in awe of this man.

you assumed he was a music critic or a businessman wanting to interview you or get you into a deal for collaborations, but from the way he speaks and addresses you, he appears to be neither.

what's more unexpected is that he doesn't seem to even recognize you.

you were already expecting him to start bombarding you the instant he laid eyes on you and sat next to you, but it was something you didn't mind at all. it was a strange feeling for you, yet it was reassuring in some ways.

being famous always meant having eyes and cameras trained on you at all times, which you acknowledge was a touch stifling. you couldn't really blame yourself because you've made quite a name and reputation for yourself with the songs you've composed since you were a child.

you gently sit back, more calm now that he doesn't appear to recognize you, and order another glass of wine from the bartender, who kindly pours you some from the bottle.

"hey, is that a pinot noir?" you hear him speak again, commenting on the beverage you got.

you turn back to face him, "yeah, it is. why?"

"that's a great wine to have by itself," he explains, chuckling softly.

"you seem to know a lot about wine," you smile at him before taking a sip of your drink, welcoming the taste of the wine in your taste buds once more.

"and you seem to have a good eye," he says, smiling. at least, that's how you perceive it. the sort that you'd see from your fans, not the ones that reminded you of bad music critiques and certain people in your life.

he turns to the bartender to order himself a drink, which you see sends a little surprise from the bartender as you hear the bartender fumbling over when he orders a wine called petrus, oblivious of how ridiculously pricey it was.

"you have a problem with me ordering petrus? hah?" he asks, arching his brow at the bartender, and you find yourself giggling at the sound of his tone.

something about the way he spoke when he was agitated, the subtle growl in his voice, was sending you.

"oi, what's so funny?" huffs the red-brunet, staring at you with a little but not necessarily mean glare.

"nothing," you remark between laughter as you sipped your pinot noir, "you just sound like a cute but angry puppy."

"EXCUSE ME?!"

maybe you did drink a little too much that night.

the next thing you know, you're seeing the same man you saw about a week before, and strangely enough, you discovered him in the club doing who knows what.

it was bizarre, truly, but you felt drawn to this man you had no known about. you didn't even know his name when you met him in the bar, so you did what any normal person would have done.

you simply stay far from the crowd admist the blasting lights and music in the dimly lit room because you don't dare to approach him, but little did you know, he was here for a reason, and one thing he wasn't expecting was to see you again the moment he does.

"you again?" he asks as he purposely bumps into you when he walks across the crowd.

"i think i should be saying that to you, mister fancyhat," you say back with a smile tugging on your lips.

his eyes widen a bit at the nickname and for a second he scoffs, "the hell?"

"well, you never gave me your name," you playfully roll your eyes at his reaction, giggling and immediately saying, "i mean it though. your hat is pretty fancy."

"well, thanks," he shrugs his shoulders before asking, "so, would you like a drink?"

"you bet i do," you smile softly with a wink. how could you not accept this man's offer?

"well then," he says, a small grin tugging on his lips, "how does whisky on ice sound this time?”

"sounds good," you remark, shrugging your shoulders, but what he says next takes you by surprise.

"but do me a favor and get behind me real quick, sweetheart," he urges sternly, forcing you to move instinctively to do what he says.

small gasps fill the club at the unexpected ruckus, some even afraid by the red-brunet's sudden cruelty to this stranger, but all settles down when he states that the guy was snapping pictures of you without your permission.

for some reason, even though he was yelling and threatening the paparazzi, the manner he protected and guarded you from them was not alarming to you. it even made your heart skip a beat for some strange reason.

you never imagined that stranger you met could be that interesting. he definitely had a reputation, possibly as big as yours, if not bigger—and you were enamored like a schoolgirl with a big crush.

could he possibly be a spy? or even a mafioso? the possibilities were endless. you had no idea what it could be, but it gave you a rush of thrill and excitement. he was so cool.

"hey, um," you manage to say, blinking out of your sight as chuuya scoffs at the person taking pictures without your permission—you didn't know how to explain to him that the guy he had just nearly beaten up was your paparazzi, but you were grateful.

"what? you okay? that guy was following you, ever since i saw you in here, actually," chuuya adds, pulling you by the wrist to take you somewhere secure in the club, unaware that he was also there for another reason involving his line of work.

"yeah, i'm fine," you admit with a sheepish smile, "more than fine, actually. let's just drink.”

chuuya sighs and scoffs a little, but smiles at you, "just try not to get drunk and make fun of me like last time, okay?"

you can't help but quietly giggle as you recall getting drunk on your wine the last time you met in person at the pub. to be honest, the growl of his voice and the way he says his r's as he becomes irritated at the bartender's answer to his request for a petrus tickles your brain in a hilarious manner.

"i'll try not to then, but no promises~"

"you better not damn it."

from the moment you met chuuya a spark ignited in your very heart. as you spent more time together in secret, the ember grew into a flame, fueled by shared laughter and late-night conversations.

it was in those moments that you discovered the layers beneath chuuya's tough exterior, the vulnerabilities that made him undeniably human.

one evening, inspired by the depth of your emotions, you found yourself sitting with a guitar in hand, fingers strumming gently. the lyrics flowed like a river. each word echoed with sincerity, a testament to the connection you had forged. you wove a tapestry of emotions into the song, from the subtle nuances of his laughter to the way his eyes held the oceans of stories.

lyrics always came to you naturally the minute you felt inspired to write a song, but this time was different.

instead of simply focusing on your reputation, past painful experiences, those who had wronged you, and even past lovers who now serve only as heartbreak and lessons, this time it was all about him.

you found the sweet whisperings of love gently tugging at the strings of you heart. as you navigated the complexities of your emotions, you stumble upon a connection that felt like destiny—a love story in the making.

with pen in hand and heart wide open, you pour your emotions onto the blank pages, each word a declaration of the feelings blossoming within. the verses were a canvas painted with shared moments, laughter echoing in the lyrics, and the subtle nuances of chuuya's essence woven into the melody.

as the melody and chords resonated with the rhythm of your emotions, you realize that in writing a love song for chuuya, you were not just creating another song; you were navigating the path to love once more.

and each lyric became a stepping stone, leading you towards a renewed understanding of affection and the beauty of opening one's heart to another, and it was a celebration of the love that had rekindled within you after everything.

late into the night, you penned the final verses, pouring my feelings onto paper. the melody became a vessel for the unspoken, a silent confession wrapped in the chords of a heartfelt song of bubblegum pop.

it was a labor of love mirroring the evolution of your feelings for chuuya, and as the last notes faded away, you knew you had given voice to the emotions that had taken root in your heart.

chuuya was in his office at the port mafia headquarters, having completed his report for the boss.

he was merely looking out his office window with a glass of wine in hand, a neutral and albeit weary expression on his face, letting out a tired sigh as the radio playing from his desk said the following words just before a new song came on,

"here we have next is a new single from the one and only, [surname] [name], entitled gorgeous!"

chuuya's eyes widen as he hears your very name on the radio. he may have only recently learned your name, but he remembers it vividly, as the song begins.

there was no doubt that was you and your voice singing on the radio, and this song doesn't simply tell about someone who is in love with a new love interest in a promiscuous manner in an attempt to attract the attention of a prospective lover.

“ocean blue eyes, looking in mine. i feel like i might sink and drown and die—you're so gorgeous! i can't say anything to your face.”

chuuya stands in stunned silence as the melody filled the atmosphere when the bridge comes in. the song was a heartfelt composition, capturing every nuance of his personality and the shared moments between you two.

“you make me so happy, it turns back to sad, there's nothing i hate more than what i can't have. you are so gorgeous it makes me so mad. you make me so happy, it turns back to sad. there's nothing i hate more than what i can't have and, guess i'll just stumble on home to my cats alone.. unless you wanna come along?”

the drum beats, synthesizers, and the gentle cadence of your voice resonated with emotion filled the air. it took chuuya a moment to register that the words were meant for him, a love letter crafted in the form of a song.

as more of the lyrics unfolded, he felt the weight of your affection settle in his chest, each note a testament to the depth of your feelings. it was a revelation that left him breathless, realizing that someone had taken the time to compose a symphony of emotions just for him.

the lyrics danced between vulnerability and strength, capturing the essence of your connection. in that moment, chuuya understood the magnitude of your love, and a warmth enveloped him.

chuuya feels his face grow hot, only because of he was too oblivious for a mafioso to not recognize you, to not realize he had been speaking to a famous artist like you out in the open just like that, thinking you were just some beautiful girl in the bar and club he'd go to. no, you were more than that.

and now, going back to it, it makes sense as to why he would constantly find people trying to take pictures of you, as to why you would seem quite tense at times, or even why you would keep staring at him.

"fuck," chuuya curses to himself, "oh, fuck."

the final chords of the song lingered in the air, not long after, and without hesitation, he reached for his phone, fingers tapping with urgency as he dialed your number.

the phone rang, each tone echoing his anticipation. when you answered, he could hear the warmth in your voice, a familiar timbre that matched the melody he had just experienced.

"was that... you?" he asks, his voice a mixture of awe and genuine curiosity.

there was silence for a moment, before you answer, "so you heard it on the radio." you says softly in the call.

as you confirmed it was indeed your creation, chuuya couldn't help but smile, a rare and genuine expression breaking across his face. the connection between you two deepened with every word, the song serving as a bridge that brought your emotions to the forefront.

in that moment, over the phone lines, chuuya felt a profound connection, grateful for the beautiful revelation you had shared with him.

the warmth in his voice betrayed a mix of emotions as he spoke, "it was... incredible. you wrote that for me, sweetheart?"

there was a brief pause, filled only by the static hum of the phone line, before he continued, "i never knew. i... i don't know what to say, but i had to hear your voice, to tell you that it meant everything."

a playful chuckle escaped your lips as you tease him, "took you long enough to connect the dots, didn't it? turns out you've been with a famous artist all along." there was even a lighthearted tone to your words, a mixture of amusement and affection.

chuuya's response was a hearty laugh on the other end, a sound that resonated with genuine delight.

"well, i guess i’m not the fastest at catching on," he admits, the hint of self-awareness in his voice. but then, a sincerity washed over his words as he continued, "but damn, you just made me fall harder for you, sweetheart."

the exchange of laughter and genuine emotions continued, bridging the gap between the revelation of your identity and the newfound depth of your connection. the melody of your shared feelings played on, a harmony that echoed between two hearts that had finally found each other.

excitement radiated through the phone as chuuya declares, "enough of phone calls, i need to see you right now."

there was now a newfound sense of urgency in his voice, a genuine desire to bridge the physical distance that remained between you two at this moment, "where are you right now?"

you share your location without any hesitation, without waiting for another response, he swiftly made his way.

as chuuya reaches the familiar spot, his eyes scanned the surroundings eagerly, searching for the person behind the melody that had woven its way into his heart.

and then, there you were, standing under the soft glow of a streetlamp, a smile playing on your lips as you locked eyes with chuuya.

the world seemed to fade away as he closed the distance between you, the anticipation building with each step. without a word, chuuya pulls you into a tight embrace, savoring the reality of your presence after the emotional journey of hearing your song on the radio in his office.

in that moment, the bustling world around you melted away, leaving only the two of you enveloped in a shared understanding and newfound depth of affection.

chuuya whispers in your ear, "i needed to see you, to feel this. no more hiding behind melodies and phone calls, damn it. just you and me, together."

his arms held you in a comforting embrace as the world around you embraced the quietude of the night. the streetlamp cast a gentle glow on both of you, and the soft hum of the city formed a distant backdrop to the shared moment.

breaking the silence, chuuya gazes into your eyes, a mixture of gratitude and genuine emotion reflected in his intense gaze. "i can't believe i've been so blind to what was right in front of me. how could i have not known who you were, and that song.."

you smile softly, a tender acknowledgment of the connection that had finally blossomed between you two, "i meant every word, chuuya. you have no idea how much i want you."

he brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch a gentle reassurance. "well, i'm done letting things slip through my fingers. i want this, with you," his breathy words hung in the air, carrying the weight of a promise.

and so, beneath the canvas of the night sky, chuuya's lips met yours in a gentle, yet fervent kiss. it was a collision of emotions, a fusion of longing and realization.

as you melt into the kiss, the embrace held a promise of a beginning, a tender affirmation that echoed louder than any song you've written before, and the melody of your hearts played the sweetest tune, and the night whispered secrets of a love that had finally found its voice.

⊹ a.n.: thank god my finals is finally over because i finally got to finish writing this !! *literally cries* i also think i went all out for this one too because it ended up reaching 3.9k words, which is crazy. oh, and to the anon that requested this, i hope you enjoyed reading this one, in fact, all of you who made it this far—i love you and thanks for reading (honestly felt like i wrote a bit too much for this fic but oh well lol) <3

[ravawrites]

Unimportant

summary: after an attack on her life, her boss finally lets up warnings: general CM violence, gun violence, knife violence a/n: hope you enjoy. do you want a part 2? wordcount: 3.3k

“C'mon Baby girl, get me an address.” Derek encouraged down the phone as the team stood around the table as Penelope typed frantically on the other line. They had found the man targeting influential women execution-style in the back of their heads at seemingly random points during the day, walking away and leaving them DOA.                                               “Our creep lives at 56 Hobson Drive, a mile from here.” She spouts quickly and everyone rushes to grab their guns and put on their vests.                                                                   “Have the paperwork ready for when we get back to the station,” Hotch says, the instructions directed at you with a curt nod as he slides the dark blue vest on with white block text in the centre of the chest.                                                                                                                 “Yes sir.” You say quickly with a nod, as he jets off, going to join the rest of the team and jumping into the large SUV and speeding off with the rest of the team to go and apprehend the Unsub and bring him in for questioning.

In the meantime, while they were gone, you made a call to Quantico’s finest tech girl.                                   “What do you need my love?” She greets as she picks up the line.         “Could you print out the interrogation forms for me, please?” You ask her in a sweet voice and can’t contain your smile.                                      “Of course, I can and what printer would that be delivered to?” She asks.                                              “The name is Georgia Atlanta PP3, if you could send them stat, that would be great.” Making your way to the printer the papers began to be spat out from the printer.

 “Thank you Pen, I’ll update you later,” ending the call with a small beep, you take the papers to the conference room, leaving them on the large round table then taking a quick detour to the bathroom. It wasn’t as up-to-date as the bureau's facilities but wasn't the worst thing she’d seen. The tiles were yellowing and some of the caulking was peeling off around the sinks. One stall was already occupied out of the two.

The singular sink tap was taking forever to warm up, the hot tap seemingly not working. Constantly you swipe your hand under the running water, the cold temperature causing goosebumps all over your upper body. The lock clicks from the stall behind you as you look at the pipe below the sink. One of them had been cut.                              “Hey.” You ask without looking up from the sink. “Do you know what's wrong with the hot tap?”                                                                                                                                                                          “No.” A deep voice says from behind you and your eyes snap up to the mirror.

You knew that face. That man's face was currently printed out and pinned to a corkboard. The team was presently kicking down his door and storming his apartment. And he currently had a gun at your head.                                                                                                  “You’re-” You start to say and close your eyes as he presses the gun harder into the back of your head.                                                                  “Yes.” He said simply. “And I have a G34 to the back of your head.” He said menacingly into your ear as his body shoved yours against the sink.                                                                  “Good for you.” You grit out and clench your jaw and he clocks the gun, a small click ricochets around the bathroom.                                     “Watch your mouth.” He snarls. “Or I’ll shoot you.”

Your mind darts back to the profile the team had delivered earlier. What the team had told the local police to look out for.                            “He’s methodical and organised.” Derek started. “Which means he is choosing who he kills, not just killing them at random.”                            “He thinks he is doing the world a favour by ridding of these powerful women, he's a violent misogynist who thinks that women shouldn't be in the positions they work in.” Hotch continues. “Shooting them in the back of the head execution style shows that he wants them dead, with no chance of survival.                                                                              Spencer picks it up from there. “He’ll want approval of what he has done so when we do find him, don’t insult him, boost his ego. If he feels pressured he will do down shooting or commit suicide by cop.”    “We're looking for a white male, around 30 to 40 years of age and possibly has a record of domestic abuse or general violence against women.” Emily finishes. “So spread this around to whoever you can as we believe he will kill again soon.”

“Why shoot me?” You ask and make eye contact in the mirror. “I’m not in a high-profile job.” Your voice shakes slightly.                                 “You’re with the FBI, in prison they’ll love me if I kill a fed.” He snarls quietly into your ear.                           “I’m not a fed. I’m a PA.” You tell him. “I make coffee and grab files, no one knows who I am. You want to waste your last kill on someone so unimportant?” You continue and you see his confidence start to waver. “And then you get killed by the cops. Who remembers someone like that.” His eyes flash with anger.                                            “I am a God. God’s do not die.”                                                                       “You know, 'cause of all of the remarkable work you've done so far.” You correct, remembering what Spencer had said earlier about praising the man. 

“My remarkable work?” He says, his hand on the glock shakes slightly. It was working.                                       “Yeah, you killed all those women and still didn’t get caught. You’re currently in a police station bathroom and none of them noticed you come in.” You compliment with a small smile hoping to get him to pull the gun away from your head. “No one would notice if you killed me. And I won’t tell anyone I saw you.” You convince him. “They will let you walk right out of here and you can just carry on.” His eyes snap away from yours and down to the bathroom floor and darting around the lines on the tiles below, the cool metal still pushed into the back of your skull and he begins to lower the barrel slightly, now pointing at the small of your back. 

Shuffling your feet, you spin around, face to face with a killer. You don’t look him in the face and keep your eyes centred on the top of his chest and neck. He was wearing a maintenance uniform in an ugly beige that insulted your eyes, like a wall painted white that had been yellowed by cigarettes. So that’s how he got in, the broken tap. His nails were crusty, the skin around them pulling away. He held the gun at his side, pointing it at the ground. You felt like a profiler as you looked the man up and down, a phoney one at that. With no idea of what you are looking for, trying to even out your voice.                          “C’mon,” You start. “Let's walk out of here.” Hands trembling you walk towards the bathroom door with him. His hand was still firmly wrapped around the gun. So hard, so hard that his hands had begun to shake too. 

He was nervous to walk out into a room full of police officers who carried guns. There was also a chance he was ready to commit suicide by cop and go out there shooting. However, there was a feeling you just couldn’t shake, buried deep in your gut, like bees buzzing furiously. The realisation hit you then, he wasn’t shaking out of nerves. He was shaking out of anger. He was angry at you for foiling his plan to kill an FBI agent. 

The team had talked about a fight, flight or freeze response on so many cases that you had lost count. You had always taken yourself for a flight or freeze kind of person, not one to fight back or even be confrontational. Right before the shot rang out, that grinding gut feeling that was making you feel sick told you to duck. The bullet flew right over your head and lodged itself in the wall behind the yellowing tiles, shattering over the floor. 

Before he could take the second shot at you, there was a knife in his neck. Specifically, the knife you had pulled from the holster in your boot. Quickly, you run over to him and kick the gun away from his hands and under the stall. The door is kicked open violently by Derek and he points his gun at the ground. At the man, you had just killed. The dead man, whose blood was pouring over the bathroom floor.       “He’s gone,” Derek said while crouching over the body with his fingers to the man’s neck. 

“Are you ok?” Hotch asks and gives you his arm to help you step over the body.                          “I’m fine.” You state simply, taking his hand and stepping over the man you had just killed and out of the bathroom. Once you have left the bathroom JJ rushes over with a cornered look in her eyes.               “What happened?” She says, wrapping her arms around your shoulders tightly.                         “He put a gun to my head so I threw a knife at him.” Shrugging into her hands, you give her a small smile to assure her you’re okay. “The hot tap is broken in the bathroom, you should notify the Captain so he can get a real maintenance man in.” You say as the team heads back into your borrowed conference room, JJ’s arm still wrapped around your shoulder firmly. 

“She’s taking this surprisingly well,” Derek says to Hotch as they hang behind the rest of the team. “She talked a man with a gun to her head, with no experience.”                                      “Let’s just be thankful she made it out alive,” Hotch replies in his usual dull tone, giving Derek a pointed look before the two of them head into the conference room.                                    “Wheels up in 30, it's been a long couple of days.” Hotch nods and the team heads back to the small hotel to grab their bags.

It was still insane to you that you got to fly around on a private jet to all different states for a living. Even though the circumstances were not the best, a privilege was still a privilege. However, that jet was currently sitting in an incredibly tense silence that wasn’t usual for the way back from a case. You were sat on the four-seater with Emily and Derek opposite you, JJ to your left. The blond was very obviously worried about you as she had refused to leave your side since you had taken a single footstep outside of the bathroom. The air was thick with awkwardness, it felt suffocating and you internally begged for someone to break the silence. Hotch and Rossi sat on the single-seaters. Rossi had pulled a plush and most likely very expensive eye mask over his face as he got some much-needed shut-eye. Spencer was nose-deep into some Russian book that he would most likely finish in the next twenty minutes. Hotch was already starting the case files as the unit chief he had a whole file or two extra. 

“So.” Thank the world for Derek Morgan you thought as someone finally spoke up. “Where did you learn to throw knives, pretty girl?” You had gained that nickname for being the youngest on the team, Reid above you.                                                                                         “There are lots of things you don’t know about me.” You say mysteriously. “I took a class in college.” Shrugging with a light blush covers your face.                                                             “How many secrets do you have?” Emily smirks at you.                           “Not many, but enough.” You answer vaguely again. “Pen knows all of them.”                                     “Penelope Garcia knows your secrets and has kept them a secret.” JJ turns to you in shock, her mouth wide open.                                               “She has to be a certain amount of margaritas in before I tell her anything.” A look of realisation dawns on JJ’s face. “Then she is guaranteed to not remember it.”                          “Smart.” Morgan comments and you shrug. 

The atmosphere had finally gone back to the lightheartedness you were used to and it put you at ease.                                                                “Remind me to never mess with you.” Spencer directed towards you as he made his way to the kitchenette.                                                          “Were you planning on it?”                                                                               “Nope.” He replied quickly.                                                                              “Well, then you should be fine.” You tease him and he walks down the aisle of the plane. The rest of the flight is spent as usual, some sleeping, Emily gets beaten by Spencer in cards for the hundredth time. The normality calmed you. 

_

The minute the elevator dings and the doors slide open on floor six, a bright blur of pink, yellow and blue comes rushing at you.                       “JJ told me what happened! Are you ok? Are you hurt?” Penelope’s questions rush out her mouth at a million miles a second as she hugs you as tightly as possible.                                            “Can’t breathe.” You heave out into her ear. “You’re squeezing my lungs.”                                      “I was so worried when you didn’t call me back” She leaned back and grabbed onto the top of your arms, the worry still present in her eyes. “I was a bit busy, unfortunately.” You joke, attempting to soothe her.    “I made you your favourite tea, just how you like it. Come on.” She drags you away from the rest of the team and to the kitchen and sat on the counter in your favourite mug was your favourite tea, just as she said.                                                                                                      “You are an angel, Penelope.” You lean your head on her shoulder affectionately.                               “I know.” She says, her cheeks rosy. “Now drink up!” 

Over the next hour and a half, all of the members of the team stuck their heads in to your office to say goodbye for the night, minus Hotch who was still in his own office. Well it wasn’t really an office, more like a room filled to the brim with file cabinets and loose files scattered everywhere, tall piles up from the floor of magnolia files and a tiny desk and chair. Finishing sorting the previous case files, you head up from your hobbit hole and to Hotch’s office. 

“Come in.” His deep voice says from his desk seconds after you knock. You take a step just inside the door.                                                 “Have you finished processing the new files?” He didn’t even look up as he answered.                   “Not yet.” Cold as always, his pen was still gliding across the page. You nod as if he can see.      “Do I have to sign anything?” You ask and swing your arms back and forth from the doorway.        “Why would you have to sign anything?”                                                       “I threw a knife at an unsub and killed him.” You deadpan, assuming that you would have to sign a form of some sort.                                       “It was self-defence.” He states quickly, finally looking up from his work. His sleek black pen is sat gently on the desk and he links his fingers together. “Sit.” He nods toward the chair in front of his desk. 

Your feet drag along the grey carpet, feeling as if you were being called to the principal’s office. But that principle is your boss and extremely hot. When you first started working for the team, everyone knew about your crush on Hotch. Who wouldn't? However, a couple boyfriends and flings later, you had gotten over it. More like gotten better at hiding from a group of profilers. “Are you ok?” He says, finally making eye contact with you.                   “I’m fine.” You reply as he scans your face for microexpressions.            “You don’t have to be fine.” Hotch speaks softly. “You almost died.”                                                You’d never seen that look in his eyes towards you before. It was care.                                        “Better me than Em or JJ.” You shrug. “That's why JJ didn’t leave me all night, she knew he was there for them.” You notice shock cross his features. “After years here, I’ve picked some stuff up. Including talking a man with a gun to my head down, well close enough.” You attempt a joke but you’re met with a blank stare. 

“Well done.” He says and a flush crawls its way up your skin.                “Thanks.” You mutter averting your eyes, fixing on the plate that read his name, the praise getting to you.                                       “What did you say to distract him?” Hotch asks his attention solely on you.                               “Well he wanted a fed, I told him I wasn’t one, I wouldn’t get him any rep in prison as I’m not important and then he tried to shoot me, I threw a knife at him.” You say. “That’s it simplified.”     “Why’d you throw the knife?”                                                                         “I realised he was just a man.” You watch Hotch furrow his brow, wondering what you meant. “He told me that he was a God and that Gods don’t die. But men die.” You look up at him once again. His eyes were a dark brown that matched his dark personality and cool demeanour.                                                                                                          “Yes. They do.” You knew your conversation was over as he picked up his pen and began to write again. 

Nodding awkwardly, you get up from the uncomfortable wooden chair, which was made to be that way to stop visitors from sitting too long and taking up to much of his time. You knew there was no way he missed your reaction. He was a master in micro-expressions and your expression had nothing micro about it. Embarrassment, is what you felt as you sleuthed out of his office and scurrying down to your dim, hobbit hole of an office. Quickly, you shoved all of your stuff into your bag, files that needed to be processed, spare clothes that didn’t make it into your latest go bag and your travel mug. Slinging your handbag over your shoulder, you make your way to the elevator, ready to go home for the weekend.

 The button reading -1 lit up after you press it. The silver metal doors begin to slide shut.              “Hold the doors.” Hotch’s voice carries and you stick your hand in between the doors and they slide back open as he jogs over. “Thank you.”                                                                     “No problem.” You say calmly, internally, however, you were kicking yourself for not leaving five minutes earlier. The two of you stood in silence as the elevator started to move downwards, him gripping onto his black leather briefcase. You do the same with your handbag. After what seems like hours, the doors finally open in the car park. Giving your boss a small and awkward smile, then pretty much running away from him and to your small car. 

Just as you pop open your car door you hear Hotch call out your name.                                        “Sir?” You ask, confused about why he was running toward you, his tie swinging back and forth.                                                                             “Um.” He started, Aaron Hotchner looked nervous. “You are important. To the team, I mean. We couldn't do this without you. It would have been just as devastating if you had died.” He finished. The shock was obvious on your face as you stood there with your mouth wide open.                                                                                             “Sir…” You had run out of smart things to say as you just stared at him blankly.                  

“Most of all, you are important to me.” He made direct eye contact as he said that and it felt like you have been punched in the face. You were speechless. “And call me Hotch, or Aaron, not Sir.” After that, he gave you a nod before walking off to his own car.                                       “Goodbye, Aaron.” You called out as he disappeared around the corner. His name felt strange in your mouth as if it didn’t belong there. Standing there for a moment, staring into the empty abyss of the parking lot.                    

The comfort of your car was no help either. You grip the steering wheel tightly until your fingers turn white. The heating turned up at full blast and did nothing to deter the goosebumps all over your body. All it had taken was 8 words from Aaron Hotchner to render you completely incapable of any normal thoughts. 

[drunk-on-dk]

Best Neighbor of All Time Award | Lee Seokmin (M)

✦pairing: neighbor!Seokmin x fem!reader

✦genre: fluffy? before the SMUT (minors DNI)

✦wc: ~6.4 and some change (most likely, still pending a deep proofread)

✦summary: Seokmin is the best neighbor you've ever had, making it impossible not to fall for his charms.

NSFW warnings under the cut, minors do not read, 18+ only

✦warnings: no specific pronouns used, but reader has female anatomy & wears a skirt; pet names (sweetheart); switch!Seokmin; switch!reader; mention of masturbation; unprotected sex (pls be safe and wrap it before u tap it friends); fingering; oral (male receiving); creampie; some choking? some degradation? some humiliation? some orgasm denial? some overstim? hello? am i ok?

✦a/n: hi this was created from this lovely ask here. thank you thank you thank you for sending that in kind anon. tbh, this was originally a fic for jun, but when i got this ask I felt inspired to rewrite this about DK. (i'm really hoping to get more fics out about more members, but my mind went haywire from this request)

If such an award existed, you’d grant Lee Seokmin the Best Neighbor of All Time Award. Living next to Seokmin proved to be one of your most symbiotic relationships, even if he was just a trustworthy neighbor before becoming a good friend of yours. 

You had first met him when a package of yours was delivered to his apartment rather than yours, signing for the delivery without even checking the addressee and tearing into the box without hesitation.  Only then did he realize the package was filled with clothing he couldn’t quite remember ordering, reevaluating the packing slip, and panicking when he realized the delivery was addressed to the person next door.

Flustered, Seokmin appeared at your doorstep, ears tinted an endearing shade of red as he knocked at your front door and nervously held the opened package to his chest. When you cracked the door open with a soft, polite smile adorning your very pretty features, Seokmin could have sworn he felt the blush spread from his ears like rapid fire throughout his chest and face, as he hadn’t expected someone around his age (and notably attractive) to live right next door to him. He felt even more like a fool with your package in his hand, which he had so blatantly ripped into, and felt like he had invaded your privacy before ever meeting you.

However, Seokmin felt more at ease when you greeted him without hesitation, the door opening wider as your smile broadened, “oh, I recognize you. You live right next door, right? I’m Y/N, sorry I haven’t had the chance to introduce myself yet, I just moved in about a week or so ago.”

Admittedly, Seokmin felt a bit silly that he hadn’t recognized you when you had clearly recognized him, but he didn’t bask in it as he introduced himself, “I’m Seokmin, but my friends call me DK,” you watched as he nervously ruffled his hair, eyes flickering to the package held tightly in his other hand, “and I am so sorry, but I was delivered your package and opened it myself.”

You let out the most saccharine laugh he’s sworn he’s ever heard, graciously accepting the package, and further easing Seokmin’s nerves from how pleasant you seemed. “No worries,” your expression jokingly shifted to one that was skeptical, “you didn’t see anything incriminating or suggestive in here, did you?”

You found it charming how the tall, handsome man seemed to stutter at your question, noting how easy it was to make him flustered. With a giggle, you let him off the hook as he struggled to find his words, “Just kidding, thank you for dropping this off. I’ll see you around then, DK?”

Seokmin let out a little laugh alongside you, cursing himself for acting so out of character around you, but he blames it on the unfortunate circumstances of how he had to meet his new neighbor. “Yeah, see you around,” he gives you a little wave as you tuck behind your door, closing it gently as you wave back, “nice to meet you, Y/N.”

He can hear a little “you too!” escape from the crack of your door as you shut it, finally allowing him to breathe out in relief as he heads back to his apartment. Little did he know, you were pressed up against your door, a hand gently slapping your cheek in embarrassment that you asked him if he came across anything incriminating or suggestive, unbelieving that you had asked him such a thing upon first meeting him.

Your neighborly friendship with Seokmin only blossomed from there, the next interaction you had with him being in the elevator a few days later. You had both made small talk and exchanged numbers, Seokmin letting you know that you shouldn’t ever hesitate to give him a call if you ever need anything.

Seokmin didn’t expect you to take him up so quickly on the offer though, phone buzzing later that same night with your name appearing on his screen. He couldn’t help the smile that creeped onto his face at seeing your name, quickly picking up your call and ready to tease you for calling him so soon. However, he especially wasn’t expecting to hear your frantic tone, barely able to make out your words as you spoke quickly into the phone.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Seokmin interrupted you finally, “you need to slow down, Y/N. I’m walking over now.” He was already out the front door of his apartment, about to knock at your door as you finally let out a coherent sentence.

“The door is unlocked,” you cried out, “just let yourself in.”

With that, Seokmin burst into your apartment without further hesitation, hanging up the phone to find you standing atop your counters with a broom in hand. He began to approach you, further confused by the situation, but only wanting to offer consolation.

“Stop!” You squealed, halting his movements mid-step, and pointing down at the ground directly in front of you. Seokmin’s gaze followed in the direction you were pointing; your quiet whimpers were suddenly drowned out by his own shouts as he realizes what you were afraid of. An extremely large spider stood in the middle of your kitchen, eerily standing still as you both panicked.

Seokmin embarrassingly enough found himself crouched up on one of your barstools, reaching for the broom in your hand as he continued to let out shouts of terror himself. He frantically batted at the spider, attempting to crush the damned arachnid with your weapon of choice, only for you to interrupt him mid-swat.

“No,” you wailed out in despair, “don’t kill it.”

“What do you want me to do,” Seokmin was unbelieving, saucer-like eyes staring into yours as he watched the spider scurry across the floor towards him.

You handed him the dustpan, panic clear in your tone, “I don’t know, sweep it up into this and throw him out the window.”

Seokmin obliged, trying not to make himself look like any more of a coward in front of you as he hopped down from the stool and swiftly swept the spider up into the dustpan, hauling across the kitchen to shake the spider out of your open window. Of course, all of this was done with consistent hoots and hollers on his end.

After all was said and done, Seokmin found himself breathlessly leaning against your window, absolutely taxed from the whole event. Seokmin only came back to reality upon hearing your melodious laugh, turning around to see you still on your countertops, curled into a little ball as you uncontrollably laughed.

“Hey,” Seokmin shouted, approaching you with his finger pointed in your direction, and he couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips as well. In false seriousness, gently poking at you as you held onto your side to contain your laughter, “are you laughing at my demise? Who’s the one who called me in sheer panic?”

“I’m sorry,” you managed to squeak out in between laughs, “but this whole thing was just too funny in hindsight.” Your cheeks hurt from laughing so hard, only laughing more as Seokmin joins you, but still seeming a bit embarrassed as he shoves your broom into a corner of your apartment.

You feel bad for laughing, so you slide off your countertop and walk towards him with your arms out, a cheesy smile on your face. “C’mon, bring it in, big guy.”

Hesitantly, Seokmin accepts your hug, an awkward hand patting your shoulder as you embrace his much larger frame. He’s stiff and he’s not sure why; eyes still wide when you pull away and lift his hand up to high-five your own. Honestly, you’re not sure why you went in for a hug, only trying to offer some consolation, but your already pounding heart seemed to only get worse.

“Thanks for coming over and helping,” you suddenly feel a bit sheepish, but still try to make ease of it all, “even though you seem a bit scared of bugs as well. I appreciate it, I owe you one, neighbor.”

Seokmin relaxes a bit, noticing you’re a bit embarrassed yourself, “no problem, Y/N. I told you to give me a call anytime.” He’s ready to dismiss himself, ready to head back to his own apartment. Why must every interaction with you be slightly embarrassing for him?

“You better watch what you offer out,” you joke, earning a chuckle from Seokmin as he exits your apartment.

“Goodnight, Y/N. Good luck getting sleep tonight after knowing that was in your house.”

You giggle a bit, bidding Seokmin a goodnight as well as you watch him shut your door, heart still pounding erratically in your chest.  You were done for; you absolutely knew it. How could you get so lucky, having an extremely handsome neighbor who is just the right amount sweet and chaotic? You refused to fantasize about any relationship with him though, knowing it was extremely premature of you and you didn’t want to get carried away with a crush on someone right next door.

You did everything to suppress your excitement when you’d see Seokmin within the halls of your apartment complex, when he’d send you texts informing you of local events, or when you could slightly hear him singing to himself through the thin wall that divided your apartments.  

Once you had made yourself a bit too large of a batch of brownies, deciding to bring a tray over to Seokmin’s as a treat for being so welcoming and helpful to you. You won’t ever forget how his eyes lit up upon opening the door to you, excitedly exclaiming what a delightful surprise it was to see you and inviting you inside with your tray of brownies. You especially won’t forget the way his smile extended to his eyes when he took a bite of the treat, letting you know that these were the best brownies he’s ever had in his life.

He made you feel like a high schooler all over again, feeling giddy from his praise as he continued to snack on the chocolate treat. You took this time to look around his apartment, the space being just as comforting and warm as he was. Seokmin offered you a glass of wine that night, asking if you’d like to try some of the new bottle of red wine that he had started sipping on. You obliged when he claimed that it was the least he could do after you brought over the brownies, but you would have agreed regardless to spend more time with him.

You weren’t sure if it was the wine or Seokmin that made you feel tingly that night, mirroring Seokmin’s smile when he asked if you liked the wine, “I like it a lot,” you claimed. I like you a lot, you thought.

After that, Seokmin had gifted you wine occasionally, handing it to you with that signature smile of his, and always including a handwritten note tied around the neck of the bottle. Sometimes he’d come over with a six-pack of beer. Sometimes you’d invite him in to join you on you couch; you both would end up drinking the entire six-pack, bent over in laughter after making fun of whatever stupid rom com you had been watching. Sometimes you’d find yourself getting a little too drunk, tears spilling out over nothing as Seokmin held you to his chest, hushing and consoling you even though he’s not sure why you are crying in the first place. Sometimes you’d both end up dancing to the credit scene music, laughing and talking the night away. Nothing ever came of these nights though, other than your budding friendship, and your burgeoning one-sided crush on him.

One morning you had seen Seokmin in passing, the usually lively man looking sickly and bundled up, still sending a smile your way to greet you. You had asked him what was wrong, and he claimed he just had a simple cold. You couldn’t help but feel guilty every time you heard his cough from the other side of the wall.

Later that evening, you were sure to bring over some homemade chicken noodle soup, herbal tea, and medicine for him. You had texted him prior to bringing the remedy over, making sure he wasn’t sleeping, and he let you know just to let yourself in. You found yourself keeping him company all night, even if it meant you risked getting sick yourself, claiming that these were part of your neighborly duties and that he’d do the same for you. Seokmin was a bit skeptical, but he sure did enjoy having you around (and he would do the same for you).

All these events and more have led to an undeniable friendship, both of you living symbiotically and constantly being there for one another. It was hard to suppress any emotions you felt for him at this point, and you found yourself reading into his actions a bit too much. You were even guilty of inviting dates over purely in hopes that he would overhear you conversing with them through the walls and become jealous. You’d always end up unsuccessful, booting them from your apartment before they ever had the chance with you.

You’d become shameless when you’d find yourself in bed later at night, touching yourself to the thoughts of Seokmin, crying out his name upon your release. This was the only time you ever wished Seokmin couldn’t hear you, cheeks heating up in embarrassment after realizing how loud you may have been from just a little fantasy and feeling a bit dishonorable.

It had now been months into your friendship, consistently being good neighbors to one another, and you were excited to say you were learning all the small things about Seokmin, as he was about you. He had become your movie and tv-series watching partner, wine and beer-drinking partner, shoulder to cry on, and overall hype man.

You were the same for him, being sure to cheer him on even when it hurt deep down. Even when he showed up at your door with a bouquet of roses, nervously chewing at his bottom lip, you did everything to contain your excitement. Which quickly died down when he asked if he looked okay, letting you know he had a date tonight and wasn’t sure if he was overdressed.

Trying not to sound dejected, you put on your best smile and gave him a thumbs up. “You look absolutely handsome, Seokmin, they are extremely lucky whoever they are.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” he’d smile the widest you’d ever seen him smile, hand slipping behind your head to pull you in for a quick forehead kiss. “Don’t forget I’m having some people over tomorrow for a party, you’re invited, I want you to meet all my friends.”

All of this made your stomach erupt in butterflies, the spot on your forehead where his lips had pressed against tingled uncomfortably and the thought of being introduced to his friends made your cheeks heat up even more. You were sure they’d all be just like him, and you weren’t sure you could handle it. “I’ll be there, don’t you worry. Have fun tonight, Seok!”

You’d watch him disappear into the elevator after he bid you goodnight, jokingly scolding you for not having something fun planned for a Friday night, but you weren’t sure you’d be able to enjoy it anyways knowing he was out on a date. It’s not something you're proud of, but that night you prayed that the date went horribly, attempting to stay up to hear if he had brought his date home, but your heavy eyelids betrayed you before you could ever find out.

The next day, you found yourself preparing in advance for Seokmin’s party, taking your time in the shower, and performing a whole self-care routine. You were someone who always thought to hell with the male gaze, so why did you care so much about what you looked like tonight, you only ever dressed or got ready for yourself. Seokmin has also seen you at your worst; bedhead, matted Hello-Kitty robe, wine-stained teeth, and all.

Maybe you were a bit overdressed for a simple apartment party. Maybe the leather skirt, tights, and boots were a bit of an overkill if you were being honest, but you could argue that Seokmin’s outfit for his date last night was a bit of an overkill, especially with those roses. Maybe you were being a bit petty, and you should reconsider your outfit for your own self-preservation. However, the skirt and tights were already on, and it was an achievement in itself to not rip the nylon fabric.

The music next door for Seokmin’s party had already begun, hearing the celebratory cheers in the hall as his friends seemingly began to arrive. It all made you extremely nervous, even though you consider yourself friendly and sociable you were still shy in nature. The loud chatter through the walls only made you anxious, taking a shot of the untouched vodka that had been in the back of your freezer in hope that you’d gain some confidence. Grabbing the rack of beers that you had purchased in advance for the party, you had finally mustered up enough courage to march over to Seokmin’s apartment, not wanting to arrive too fashionably late.

To your surprise, an incredibly handsome man that was not Seokmin opened the door. He was tall, with sharp canines that made his pretty smile even more charming. The man quickly noticed the rack of beers in your hand, the heavy case making you a bit unbalanced as you anxiously stand at the front door.

“Y/N?” The man asks, his soft voice surprising you, and you feverishly nod as he reaches to grab the case of beers from your hand, noticing your struggle. “I’m Mingyu, come on in. DK can’t stop talking about how he can’t wait for us to meet you.”

You shuffle in behind him, muttering a thank you as he turns to the rest of the crew in the apartment, holding the rack of beers up victoriously as he announces your presence. Seokmin is quick to dash over to you upon noticing your arrival, excusing himself from the group that he was in the corner of his kitchen and making his way over to you.

An arm of his snakes around your waist prior to introducing you to all his friends. “All, this is Y/N, my neighbor who I seriously don’t know what I’d do without,” he chuckles, and you feel extremely self-conscious under the gaze of his unexpectedly large group of friends. Still, you can’t hold back the smile as he tugs you a bit closer to him, seeming to notice your discomfort.

“Nice to meet you all,” you smile, feeling more at ease as the group welcomes you in, introducing themselves one at a time as Mingyu slips a chilled beer into your hands.

You quickly feel comfortable, the group of friends being delightful as you had suspected, all of them being as funny and charming as Seokmin is. You’re also quick to pick up on some of their dynamics, especially after the one named Soonyoung, who made it clear that he really goes by Hoshi, seems to spill a bit too much information about the group to you.

“That’s Jeonghan,” he slurs as you follow his gaze, remembering him as the overtly sweet boy with a cute chuckle, “he seems all innocent, but be sure to keep an eye on him when you play any games tonight. Then, that is Seungcheol and his girlfriend. He acts all tough, but he’s an absolute simp.”

Hoshi continues dishing all the gossip as you sip down your first beer. It’s quite enjoyable, laughing at all his jokes as he shares all their little nuances. Seokmin finds himself watching you most of the night, unable to hold back his smile as he watches you bond with his friends.

As if Mingyu could sense you had finished your first drink, he appears at your side and hands you a fresh beer, sitting closely next to you. The feeling of his thigh on yours is enough to make your body heat up feverishly. Not that you notice, but Seokmin is sure to take note of how close his friend has gotten to you, as well as the painstakingly pretty blush on your cheeks.

“Ah,” Hoshi unexpectedly raises his voice, making both you and Mingyu jump a bit in shock. “That’s Mingyu, he’s fun to pick on. Anyways, what do you want to know about DK, Y/N?”

Both you and Mingyu chuckle at Hoshi’s antics, and you hum in thought, “hmm, what is something you think I don’t know about him?”

Hoshi chuckles evilly, “well, you should know that –,” and as if Mingyu knows what he is going to say before the tipsy boy can even utter another word, he reaches across your body to cover his mouth and pull him away from you.

Finally noticing Seokmin’s attention on you from across the room as Mingyu pulls Hoshi away, you make your way over to him as he watches you intently, sipping on the beer in hand.

“What was that about?” Seokmin chuckles, feeling slightly nervous about the interaction and still a bit unsettled by Mingyu’s not-so-sly advances.

You laugh, leaning against the counter with Seokmin, head subconsciously resting on his shoulder as you watch his friends mingle amongst each other. “Your friend Hoshi is a hoot; you should hear all the tea he was spilling about you guys. He may be my favorite other than you.”

Seokmin’s heart warms at your last statement, but he can’t hide the little green-eyed monster that burns inside of him. “What about Mingyu?”

You seem confused by his question, head turning from his shoulder to look up at him with starry eyes and pouty lips. “What do you mean?”

Seokmin feels the fire within him burn a bit hotter, feeling lost for words when you look up at him like that. “Nothing,” he mutters, realizing there is nothing for him to worry about at this moment. He takes this chance to dip his lips down towards your ear, brushing your hair back gently as he whispers to you, “you look very pretty tonight, Y/N.”

His fingers burn into the back of your neck, goosebumps littering your skin from his touch and the way his hot breath feels as he whispers in your ear. You’re suddenly shy again, muttering out a bleak "thank you" as your freehand grips his forearm, arousal pooling at your core from the way his dark eyes bore into yours. Something has finally shifted, and you both can feel it.

When he pulls away, you’re taunted by that smile of his, and you know he feels accomplished by his effect on you. This ignites something in you, scanning the room to see what state of mind his friends are in, and taking note that they are all irreparably drunk and in their own world.

It’s your turn to whisper in his ear now, standing on your tippy toes as you ask him a simple question, “I’ve never seen your bedroom before, Seokmin. Care to show me it?”

No time is wasted as Seokmin wraps his fingers through yours, guiding you hastily to his room at the end of the hall, exactly like the layout of your apartment. You feel a bit embarrassed, realizing that his bedroom is indeed opposite of yours, remembering all the nights you’ve coaxed yourself to orgasm just from thoughts of him.

Your disappearance seems to go unnoticed, the music and lively conversations continuing in Seokmin’s living room. Not that it even matters, the sound dying out the second Seokmin slams his lips against yours. Your ears are ringing from the contact, the absolute bliss of feeling his soft lips on yours wracking your entire body with delight, hungrily kissing him back as you wrap your hands around his neck and press your torso closer to his.

His kisses are so rough, yet careful, long, and desperate as his hands begin to roam your body, playfully squeezing at your hips and ass. You keen into him, nose nudging his as your tongue begs for entry, teeth biting at his bottom lip. Seokmin lets you lead, drinking you in for the first time, loving how sweet you still tasted after drinking beer all night with his friends.

Seokmin’s surprised when your lips move down his neck, letting out a gasp as you nibble at his skin. He’s holding onto your waist as if you’d disappear on him, hands pulling out the shirt tucked into your skirt, and slipping the top off you as you suckle on his neck. He’s thankful for the brief loss of contact, the feeling of you on his skin becoming all too intoxicating for him. You’re swift to reattach to him though, plush lips roaming his jaw and neck before reattaching to his lips.

Seokmin is desperate to keep kissing you, needy hands roaming your back before unclasping your bra expertly and enjoying the way you moan into the kiss as he pulls the garment off your chest. You don’t hesitate to guide his hands towards your breasts, encouraging him to touch you, and he takes your cue. He massages at the soft mounds, the kiss between you two becoming hotter as your lower half grinds against his, his fingers tweaking your nipples and making you cry out pathetically.

You can’t wait any longer, detaching your lips from Seokmin’s to drop down to your knees, shaky hands working at his belt as you watch him from under your eyelids. Seokmin swears he could cum right then and there, loving the darkness in your typically bright eyes, and losing it over how swollen your lips are already from just kissing you. It’s sinful how you look beneath him, with no top or bra on, just in your skirt and tights as you desperately pull his pants down. He’s a whiny mess, hand finding itself in your hair as he waits in anticipation.

“Is this okay, Seok?” You ask, voice like honey as you palm at his erection through his boxers. Oh, you can already tell he’s big, his cock feeling hot through the thin fabric, and holding back the temptation to lick the bit of precum that has leaked through.

“Fuck,” he’s groaning out lowly, “this is more than okay, sweetheart.”

Your heart flutters at the endearing pet name, never usually liking that sort of stuff, but when it’s him, it works for you. You pull his boxers down finally, his length hot and heavy exactly like you expected it to be, precum leaking out of the tip and making you hyper-aware of how wet you are yourself.

You take your time licking up his shaft, the man above you shuttering in bliss as you slowly wrap your lips around his tip. You’re completely in control, loving the way he shakes at your touch as he pleads for you to take him in completely. Your eyes flicker back up to his, a darkness in them that you’ve never seen before, and Seokmin’s hips buck into your mouth uncontrollably.

He’s quick to pull you off him, shocked by his own reflexes, and muttering out apologies. However, this only turned you on more, taking him back into your mouth and wasting no time to start messily sucking his cock. He’s groaning out, hand tangling itself even more in your hair as he refrains from bucking into your mouth.

Your hands are clawing at his hips, trying to keep him from fucking your mouth too roughly, but you love it. You didn’t think Seokmin had it in him honestly. Moaning around his length, your tongue works at the veins of his shaft as you hollow your cheeks out. He’s painfully hard, you can tell, and if you could, you’d mutter out praises as he does a good job at not thrusting into your mouth.

You can feel the saliva spilling from the sides of your mouth, Seokmin loves how much of a mess you look below him, tears forming in your eyes at the way the tip of his cock the back of your throat occasionally. He loves how you continue to moan around his cock, watching as your hips desperately grind against nothing as your fingertips dig crescent moons into his hips. He groans as your moans get more and more wonton, loving the way the vibrations feel as you needily suck and lick at his length.

You finally find yourself wrapping a hand around him, the lubrication from your spit providing more than enough glide as you work at his shaft. You can feel him pulsing in your mouth and hand, his groans and whimpers becoming more frequent as he uncontrollably thrusts into your mouth. “Shit,” he’s groaning out, heavily breathing as you continue to jerk and suck him off, “so fucking messy, sweetheart.”

“Be a good boy, Seok,” you finally pull away, noticing how his length is throbbing and how his thrusts are getting more desperate. He’s trying his best to refrain and listen, but your mouth just feels too fucking good and you look so fucking sexy.

He’s crying out softly, nodding as you take him back in, spitting on his cock lewdly as you continue your ministrations. Humming against in cock in praise does not help him one bit, immediately disobeying you, and you pull away to remind him who is in control.

“I’ll be good,” he’s groaning, his erection feeling almost painful at this point from how overstimulated he felt. “Fuck, I promise.”

You tsk out, feeling confident from your effect on Seokmin, and you continue to work at his shaft with your hands, lips shiny and swollen, driving Seokmin deeper into oblivion. He feels so close to his orgasm, hoping you’ll let him finish just this once, swearing internally that he’ll make it up to you.

“You’re not being so good, Seok, you keep fucking my hands and mouth. Are you that needy?” You’re pouting out, hand tightening at the base of his cock and making something in him snap.

Much to your surprise, Seokmin is lifting you from where you’re kneeling on the ground and throwing you face down onto the bed. He’s quick to unzip your boots, roughly tugging your skirt and tights down before running a finger over your sopping cunt.

You’re pushing back into him, the feeling of his fingers over your heat making you chase his hand as he teasingly gathers your essence before rubbing your clit briefly. His fingers gently slap your folds, making you moan out in shock.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Seokmin is bent over you, cock heavy against your ass as he whispers in your ear. “Be a good sweetheart for me now.”

Gasping out, you’re nearly crying when he dips two fingers in between your folds, and your walls immediately take them in. He’s chuckling lowly, fingers scissoring in and out of you as you squirm against his sheets, unable to take back control when his other hand is quick to hold your hips down. He’s much stronger than you ever expected, shocked, and further turned on by how quickly he switched roles on you.

“Who would have thought the sweetheart next door would be creaming all over my fingers,” he coos out, loving the squelching sound of your pussy as he continues to curl his fingers inside of you, denying you of your orgasm when you inevitably clamp even tighter around his fingers. You can feel his smile against your back, teeth and lips working against your skin as he leans over you, no longer applying enough pressure to your clit and making you feel empty again upon removing his fingers. “See how that feels, Y/N? Doesn’t feel so good when you’re on the other side, hm?”

“Seok,” you’re whining out, grinding your hips back into his, and you feel a bit of satisfaction when you feel him keen into you, hot breath running down your spine. “Please, no more games. Just fuck me already. I’m tested and on the pill.”

He no longer has any self-control, but he makes sure he keeps his dominance as his tip prods at your center, fighting the way your tight walls try to suck him in. It proves to be difficult as Seokmin shallowly thrusts inside of you, hot, slick walls clamping around his cock as he bottoms out.

It all feels so dirty, Seokmin thrusting into you, loving the way your walls flutter around his cock as he teasingly pulls in and out. The distant sound of music and his friends in the background, only remembering their presence when he hears a celebratory cheer from the group, assumingly from the intense drinking game taking place in the living room.

You’re a whimpering mess beneath him, crying out about how good he feels inside of you, how big he is, and how full you feel. This only makes him fuck you harder, loving how vulgar and lewd you are in his grasp, pulling out to only slam his hips into your ass, his tip hitting deep inside you exactly where you need him most.

Seokmin shamelessly watched the way your ass bounced against him, hands finding purchase in your hair as he pulls you back up against his chest. He whispers in your ear like he did earlier, mercilessly fucking into you as he says, “you look so fucking pretty tonight, Y/N. All dressed up for me, weren’t you?”

Your head lolls back onto his shoulder, his hand loosening its grip on your hair as they make its way around your throat. He’s still gentle, long fingers wrapping around your neck to hold you in place as he nips at your ear, waiting for your response. “Yes,” you gasp out, feeling him repeatedly hit the spongey spot inside of you, the pleasure becoming almost unbearable as the coil inside of you tightens. “All for you, Seok.”

You’re holding onto his forearms, bouncing against him as you feel his pace start to become a bit sloppy, and you’re only tightening around him even more, loving how carnal he is when his grip tightens around your neck, pulling your lips against him. You feel so breathless, so consumed by him in all ways possible.  

“Are you close, sweetheart?” He’s mumbling against your lips, and you can tell he’s close himself, feeling him throbbing inside of you as you rock back into him to meet his thrusts. You’re nodding desperately, enjoying how his fingernails dig into the delicate skin of your neck, teeth pulling at your bottom lip as you moan into his own. One hand makes its way down to your clit, thumb working circles at the bud and almost making you collapse. “I want to hear you cry out my name then, sweetheart, just like I hear you do through those walls.”

Just like that, you’re spasming around him, pleasure taking you over like pure ecstasy as you cry out his name, slightly humiliated but beyond sated as you feel yourself gush around him. “Seokmin,” you still cry out, feeling overstimulated, but needing him to fill you. “Inside me, Seok, please.”

“Fuck, anything since you’ve been so good for me, sweetheart,” and with that he is painting your walls, hot cum spilling deep inside of you as he pulls you in for one more harsh kiss. You continue to slowly grind back on him, getting off on how he shakes behind you and groans into the kiss.  “So, so good,” he is mumbling against your lips, slowly pushing you off him and you cry out a bit from the loss of warmth and fullness.

Seokmin begins to take care of you but allows himself to watch as his cum drips from your folds, down your thigh. He comes to when you giggle a bit, shaking your hips at him to remind him that he’s supposed to be cleaning up. Seokmin lets out a puff of laughter, helping to clean you up before assisting you in getting dressed. Slowly, Seokmin pulls your tights back up your legs, leaving a trail of kisses as he gently pulls the fabric up, ensuring not to ruin the integrity of the delicate nylon.

You feel love drunk, soaking in the way he treats you so well after fucking you so roughly. You giggle uncontrollably when he nuzzles his nose into your neck, blowing affectionate raspberries into the skin before kissing your cheek.

He can see all the stars in your eyes like this, staring into them between each peppered kiss as he praises you for being so good for him, whispering sweet nothings of how lucky he is to have met you.

You’re overwhelmed by it all, pulling him into a deep kiss again, but Seokmin, unfortunately, pulls away. “Y/N, please don’t get me worked up again, all my friends are out there. We have so much time to do this again.”

“You’re right,” your lips betray you, pulling him in for another kiss. You feel giddy at him mentioning doing this all again. He gives you a serious look that molds into one of endearment. “Okay, okay. No, you’re right.”

Finally, sitting up, you both compose and fully dress yourselves, sneaking kisses every so often.

“Your friends are going to hate me, Seok,” you chuckle when he pulls you in for one last embrace, pulling you close to him after spinning you around, taking in how beautiful you look.

“Nope,” he smiles, knowing that you’ve already bonded enough with his friends, and he’s sure they all have had an inkling he was obsessed with you from how much he’s spoken about you, “you’ve absolutely won them over just like you’ve won me over.”

Seokmin was right, the group soon would become some of your closest friends. Other than cringing at how sickeningly you and Seokmin were in love, his group of friends was thankful he’d found you. Similarly, you were thankful you found Seokmin. You’ve never felt so at home and loved, all thanks to moving in next to Seokmin.

Really, if such a thing existed, you’d grant Lee Seokmin the Best Neighbor of All Time Award. Never mind that title, instead, you’d now grant Lee Seokmin the Best Boyfriend of All Time Award.

[autumnmobile12]

I'm contemplating the idea of an alternate universe where Mitsuki is the Todoroki kids' stepmother and I don't know what to think about that. Firstly, I'm fairly confident that she would absolutely destroy Endeavor if he ever raised a hand to her or the children, but secondly, the thought of that house descending even further into chaos sounds like a terrifying environment of its own.

At her core, I can 100% see her being an absolutely doting stepmom to her four extra kids, but aggressively doting, you know.

...

Mitsuki: Where do you think you're going?

Touya: ...to the mountain?

Mitsuki: Not without a hat and scarf you're not. Dinner's at seven, don't be late or I will come find you. Understand?

Touya: ...yes?

Mitsuki: Good, have fun, sweetie! Be safe! Give stepmom a hug before you go.

...

Mitsuki: *winds her hand back to deliver an affectionate swat to Shouto's shoulder*

Shouto: *flinches away from her*

Mitsuki: ....who's done this to you? Who made you fear love taps? Tell me! I want names and addresses! Is it whoever did that to your face?!

...

Katsuki: Mom, do you love the extras more than me?

Mitsuki: Of course not, you're all my babies! Who put that idea in your head?! Was it your stepdad?! Enji!!

...

Bakugou's nicknames for his step-siblings.

Shouto: Icy-Hot (obviously)

Natsuo: Icy-Bro

Fuyumi: Icy-Sis

Touya: Icy-Not

...

I don't know what became of Masaru, but since they seem happy in canon, I guess Mitsuki's a widow? I mean, she clearly downgraded after the fact.

I don't know what happened to Rei either. I assume she left Endeavor and I hope she upgraded.

Don't ask how or why Mitsuki became the Todoroki stepmom. I don't know.

[neptunescore]

Princess Cake, Letter

Prompt word: Letter | Pairing: Princess Cake

Jenson hadn't been in when the letter had been delivered to his house. He’d come home from a lovely dinner with Mark, stripped down to his boxers, brushed his teeth and then slept like the dead.

The driver had woken up the next day, none the wiser to what was in his post, and had gone about his morning routine lazily; eating breakfast and doing the daily house chores before — finally — deciding to step out and check his mailbox for any new envelopes.

He should’ve known. He should’ve realised immediately, should’ve recognised the letter was from him, he’d always ripped the corners of any sort of paper he had his hands on, always left those tiny (almost unnoticeable) tears at the edges. Jenson hadn’t known, though. He hadn’t looked.

He hadn’t looked.

He’d opened the envelope casually, had licked the tip of his index finger and unfolded the paper as if it were any normal mail. And then—

Jenson doesn’t quite remember what had happened, had only come back to himself while he was booking the flight; his phone in his left hand while his right one haphazardly stuffed an assortment of random clothes into his suitcase.

The letter had been direct, straight to the point — an address, a plea for his presence, and a signature at the end.

What an idiot, Jenson had chuckled softly to himself later in the plane, who the hell signs a letter like that.

Then again, Nico was always pulling shit like this — desperate to remain formal, to have any feel of normalcy he could when things went awry.

His smile had dropped quickly after that thought.

He’s standing outside the hotel room door now, hand knocking incessantly against the dark wood as his foot taps against the tiled floor impatiently, “Nico!”

“Nico, I swear to God if you don’t open this door right now! Nic-”

“Jense.” A sob. A squeak as the door opens.

Nico’s finally in clear view of him; trembling hands holding the handle, his body drowning in an oversized hoodie, hair mussed up as if he’d run his fingers through them repeatedly, and he's crying. He's crying.

Jenson lets go of his suitcase, immediately pulling Nico forward, wrapping up the man in his embrace and pushing the other’s tear stained face into his chest.

“Nico- sweetheart, what’s happened? What’s wrong?”

“Jense. Jense-” A wail this time.

Jenson could feel his heart breaking, his thoughts frantic as he pulled Nico even closer, panicked fingers reaching up to hold the blonde’s soft face.

“Love. love, tell me what’s wrong, please,” he caresses the wet skin beneath his thumb,”Nico, please. Tell me what’s wrong, I’m here now, I'm here. I’ll fix it, I promise”

“I don’t know what to do-” hitched breaths, “I lost my phone, and I can’t remember what to do and he left me all alone, Jense! He left me, and I want to go home!”

Oh. Oh.

Jenson let his body fall still, let Nico bury himself back into his chest as the taller man sighed in relief. He could fix this. It was okay.

“Oh, love. It’s okay. Let’s go home, yeah?”

His hold around Nico tightened as he felt the blue-eyed man relax against him. Jenson could already feel the brief sense of ease that had filled him fading away as a seething rage grew in its place.

Lewis.

Lewis would pay for this.

I love princess cake so much, so seeing this request in my inbox had me GUSHING🤭 Hopefully, you had just a good time reading this as I had writing it💗 Also, I listened to 'Tere Mere (from "Chef")' while writing this, and it made me realise that the songs I play genuinely have an effect on what I write😭 (you'll get it if u listen to the song)

As always, credits to @cafekitsune for the dividers♡

Rules and details☆°•~