#I ended up feeling they could stand to take it a slight bit more seriously honestly
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
eurovision-del · 1 year ago
Text
5MINNUST & Puuluup just won Eesti Laul! I’m so hyped about this result, it was exactly what I wanted! Credit to Ollie, and I would really love to see him at Eurovision one day, but 5minnust were just on another level tonight. The perfect level of chaos and excitement with a super catchy song – I really hope that this connects with the general audience at Eurovision the way it seems to have with the fandom. They definitely could tweak the staging to give it a little more polish for the big stage, but I hope they keep the overall energy and honestly choreography from this performance. I’m so glad we’ll get to see them again in May!
6 notes · View notes
rosenclaws · 7 months ago
Note
could i request #92 with eddie and logan if possible? i absolutely love your writing and congrats on 600!!
warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI, fem!reader, threesome, dirty talk, unprotected sex, rough sex, overstimulation, creampie, anal, crying, fingering, logan and eddie banter, eddie gets cut slightly by Logans claws
92 - “I can’t- please- I can’t-”
600 follower drabble masterlist
wc: 1.8k
a/n: this is such a good fucking idea oh my goddd. I was so excited to write this and I loveee both of them. I hope you like it!!
Tumblr media
Logan never liked to share. Ever. He was possessive to a fault. Sometimes his jealousy boarded toxic but usually it ended in the best case scenario. Getting your brains fucked out. This time however, played a little differently.
New York City was the best and even as Logan grumbled about the busy city he followed you without question. A small bar with bras hanging on the walls ended up being the place you spent your night. Logan was grabbing the two of you drinks when a man approached you.
"Hey, I've never seen you here before." He flashes a handsome smile, a cigarette resting in his mouth.
“Just passing through.” You hum as you take in the stranger.
You and Logan had…talked about expanding things in the bedroom. Bringing in a third to make things a little interesting. Logan would rather chop off his dick than let anyone else touch you. Especially no one at the mansion. A stranger you’d never see again however, that's a different story.
“The names Eddie. I live in the apartment upstairs if you want to come and see the view.”
“The view down here is just fine.” Logan butts in. Getting physically between you and Eddie. He stares Eddie down. Ready to unsheathe is claws if you asked him to. Instead you put your hand on his closed fists and rub softly.
“Logan this is Eddie, remember what we talked about…” You whisper in his ear. Logan growls but stops glaring daggers into the other man.
“Look I’m not a home wrecker. I’m sorry if I’m stepping on your guard dogs tail I just thought you’re a beautiful girl and wanted to come talk to you.” Eddie smirks when he sees Logan’s eyes flash with anger at his words. He’s seriously going back off but there's a part of him that enjoys this.
“Hold on Eddie.” You grab his wrist and ask him to sit.
Explaining that you and Logan were exclusive but open minded and Eddie wasn’t looking for anything more than a one night stand. Logan doesn’t take his hand off your thigh as Eddie flirts up a storm with both you and himself. Logan was hard to break but Eddie wanted to see the dog bite. Eventually he brings you up to his apartment.
“You sure you’re okay with this?” You ask Logan sweetly.
Logan nods and pulls you into a feverish kiss. Is he thrilled about sharing you, no. But he knows that your his no matter what. Plus he gets to prove to you that no one is better than him.
“Getting started already?” Eddie hums as he watches you and Logan make out.
Logan tugs your shirt over your head. Without thinking he unsheathes his claws to cut your bra strap. Eddie chokes on his drink as he sees the sharp claws. Logan looks over and smirks.
“Scared of a little metal, boy?” Eddie gulps, feeling his pants get tighter.
“Not at all, don’t hurt yourself old man.” He mumbles as he beckons the two of you into his room.
In an instant you go from Logan’s arms to Eddies as he kisses you. His hands squeezing your breasts as Logan gets rid of the rest of your clothes. Eddie's lips trail down until he's kissing and biting your chest. You gasp in a slight bit of pain as bites your nipple.
"Watch it." Logan grumbles but you calm him.
"I can handle a little pain." You hum and Eddie just smiles.
Clothes fly everywhere and it all becomes a blur. Eddie and Logan banter back and forth as it soon becomes a pissing contest. Who can make you scream the loudest? Come the hardest? You loved every second of it. The foreplay is nice but you were craving more. Eddie's the first to take pity on you.
"Think we've teased her enough Logan." His fingers fuck your cunt slowly. You're leaking onto the sheets, making a mess as the two men play with you like a toy.
"Can I fuck your sweet pussy?" Eddie asks as he pulls his fingers out.
He moves to put them in his mouth but Logan grabs his wrist. Sucking your juices off his fingers. Logan winks and buries his own two fingers inside of you. Eddie is a handsome man but Logan is massive. His fingers already stretching you tight.
"Yes please!" You whine as you grab Eddie's cock in your hand.
"You better take care of her cunt Alden, because only I get to claim her ass." Logan takes his soaking wet fingers and pushes them slowly into your ass.
Your breath hitches as he works you open. Going nice and slow as to not hurt you. Once he's satisfied he manhandles you until your ass is up and your face is resting on Eddies chest. Eddie groans as your cunt hovers over his cock. The anticipation is killing you.
"Come on, don't chicken out now." Logan holds your waist as Eddie guides his dick into your folds.
You gasp as Logan lets go and you drop onto his cock. Taking all of it at once. Eddie moans as he feels you squeezing him tight. Your eyes are shut as you try and breathe, already feeling so full but know there's more to come.
"Just relax sweetheart." Logan whispers as he kisses the side of your head. Eddie links his hands with yours as Logan stuffs himself inside of you. He's going much too slow for your liking. Logan locks your hips into place. Refusing to let you move.
"Patience." Logan groans. The tight feel of your ass coupled with the knowledge you're being filled in two different holes, it sets him off. After a few minutes of silence you start to worry the boys.
“You alright there sweetheart?” Logan grabs your chin roughly and tilts your head up.
“Look at her, she can’t talk right now big man.” Eddie hums as he bucks his hips. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as Eddie’s cock nudges something deep inside of your cunt.
“Yeah she can, I know my girl Alden.” Logan feels a low growl in his throat.
“I’m sure you do, but now so do I.” Eddie grins as he sees the anger flare in Logan’s eyes.
“Just shut up and fuck me.” You groan as your head falls onto Eddie’s chest.
“You heard your girl." It's a miracle the two of them can find a rhythm. Working in tandem to take you apart with every move of their hips. As Logan moves back Eddie fucks up and vice verse. Basically giving you no time to rest.
"That all you got, I'd have her coming by now." Logan taunts as he slaps your ass.
"Shut up." Eddie grits out of his teeth as his hand reaches down to play with your clit.
"Fuck!" You wail as the sensation rocks your body.
"That feel good baby? Tell me who fucks you better, Me or the old man?" Eddie picks up his pace while relentlessly rubbing your clit.
You can barely get a word out as you come hard on his cock. Squeezing both of them as your orgasm shakes every nerve. Logan and Eddie don't slow down, Somehow going even harder than before. Desperate for their own release.
“I can’t- please- I can’t-” You cry as they lock you between their bodies.
Nonstop pleasure coursing through your body. It's too much. The strong hands, the messy kisses, the sounds, the feeling of their cocks together. Tears start to stream down your face but you don't want them to stop. You could live in this feeling for the rest of your life.
"Fuck fuck fuck!" Eddie's pace becomes erratic.
Grabbing your face and pulling you down for a hot kiss. His hips slam up into you one more time before he comes, gushing inside of you. He's panting as his stamina gives out.
Logan smirks as he continues to fuck your ass. A silent win in his head to know that his sexual prowess is still unmatched. "Almost there sweetheart, just a little more." His thrusts are powerful enough to move you up and down Eddies cock.
"Shit, never felt this good in my fucking life." Eddie groans as the overstimulation starts to kick in. Every little bounce is dialed up to eleven. Logan grabs your waist and holds you up as he pounds into you.
"Gonna fill your fucking ass , such a dirty girl having two men's cum dripping out of you. He growls. You sigh happily as you dig your nails into Logan's arms. Logan moans, tilting his head back as he comes deep in your ass.
"Fuck!" Eddie hisses as Logans claws come out. One of them catching his side. You look up and gasp as you see a small amount of blood seep down onto the sheets.
"Are you okay?" You gently trace around the cut, worried that Eddie would freak out. Instead he just smiles and cups your face.
"Don't worry about me baby, I can handle a little pain." He says with a wink. He kisses your forehead as Logan reluctantly pulls out.
"You okay?" Logan checks on you first and once you give him the okay he turns his attention to Eddie.
"Sorry about that." He does feel a little bad for hurting him. Logan disappears into bathroom for a towel. Cleaning up you and Eddie as you melt into Eddies bed.
"Just give me ten minutes." You groan as your body starts to ache. The aftermath with Logan is always brutal on your body but after Logan and Eddie? You need ample recovery time.
"You guys can stay here if you want." Eddie offers and Logan raises an eyebrow.
"Just for tonight old man." Logan takes one look at you and you're already asleep.
"Just the night." Logan crawls in next to you.
Eddie's bed was a tight fit but somehow all three of you managed to fit. Eddie reaches over and grabs his lighter and cigarettes, offering one to Logan. Logan looks at it and Eddie chuckles.
"You don't smoke?"
"I do, just not these." Still Logan takes one and lets Eddie light it for him.
"So I'm never gonna see you guys again huh?" Eddie asks.
"Probably not. Not everyone is so...open to people like us." Logans arm rests protectively around you.
Eddie couldn't care less about mutants but had they picked the wrong person, who knows how the night could have gone.
"I get it." There's a silence between the two men.
Eddie liked you and he liked Logan. He wouldn't mind having you guys around a little longer but this was just a one night thing. By the time he wakes up the next morning they're already gone. Just a note left by you thanking him for the night. Eddie sighs as he cleans up the remnants of last night, catching a glimpse of the cut in his mirror.
It scars but that's okay. It's forever a reminder of that night.
371 notes · View notes
boyfhee · 1 year ago
Text
이희승 、PRETTY GIRL
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
featuring ⋆ bsf!heeseung, hints at friends with benefits
warnings ⋆ slightly suggestive, use of endearments, profanities, jealously on heeseung's side, toxic undertones? i'm not too sure on this one ( 0.9k )
notes ⋆ something has been so so wrong with me recently i can't come up with anything that doesn't involve making out
Tumblr media
“hee, how do i look?” 
heeseung is sprawled on your couch, scrolling through his phone when he looks up at you, raising an eyebrow. you’re waiting for his response and he’s taking his time— eyeing you up and down, the way that pretty dress hugs your body. you’ve even done your makeup, flaunting that lip tint you had bought recently, that makes your lips ten times more kissable. you never dressed like this for him.
he sighs, putting his phone aside, and sits up straight, not a single emotion on his face. “are you going to the library to study or on a date?”
“ah, did i over do it?” and you’re asking in the cutest and quietest voice, looking down at your outfit and oh how much he wants to tell you how gorgeous you look. 
but you aren’t all dolled up for him. it’s for your project partner— that asshole you have also been studying with for finals for over a week now. and it’s ridiculous how he— or anyone of those losers around you think they stand a chance, when you end up in his arms every night, at the end of all. 
“no,” yes, he wanted to say. “not at all,” so pretty for someone who’s not me.
he gets up from the couch and makes his way to you— you look prettier up close. heeseung is aware of it. he wants it to be his little secret, who even does your study guy or whatever thinks he is? heeseung takes your hands and pulls you closer, just looking at you, admiring you. maybe he should keep his pretty little best friend all to himself.
and you don’t even mind since you’re used to this. the closeness, subtle touches, holding hands, comfort, advice— it’s what best friends are for. “but you said i look like i’m going on a date.” 
he chuckles at your cute reaction, the pout, the slight frown. how cute. it’s adorable how you always take his words seriously, he’s the one person you can rely on, who you trust blindly. sometimes, heeseung feels bad for having feelings for you. would you even care if he confessed? or would you just cut him off? he’s your precious best friend after all, who you’ve known since you two were toddlers. 
“i meant to say that you look too pretty,” is he even allowed to feel this way?
you laugh softly at his words, a bit flustered at his words even though he has complimented you a thousand times. “well, i’ll get going then, ‘seung,”
truthfully, it’s also your fault. 
those smiles and giggles, your gaze that searches for him in a crowded room. you never forget to invite him to a group hangout, it’s one benefit of being friends with your friends. those nicknames you call him and only him. he’s the one you run to when you have problems. you live in his apartment more than your dorm— it’s your fault for making him feel all this. for making him like this.
you try to pull your hand back to leave, but instead he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer, pressing himself against you. this is wrong, you know, he knows. too bad, it’s not the first time. worse, he doesn’t care. 
“hee—” you gasp in surprise, but your words end up coming out as a sigh once he presses his lips against your neck. he can feel your hands on his shoulders, trying to push him away and the swift motion in which they instinctively wrap around him. and you do realise it’s your fault. you always end up giving in anyway. it’s a bad, vicious habit— he pulls, you push, and then give in, and the way you react to things he does drives him insane.
sure, your project partner could wait for a while. he doesn’t deserve you anyway. 
“you’re so pretty, angel,” he whispers next to your ear, giving it a soft nibble before pulling back and looking at you with those enchanting eyes and a smile that sends your heart into a whirlwind. he calls you angel like it’s your name, and he whispers compliments ever so softly and sweetly. it’s what you had asked him for— to tell you how you look, and heeseung is good at doing that. he has got your back. “so gorgeous,”
it’s what best friends are for. 
the next thing your mind registers is his sweet lips on yours, the taste of cherries and vanilla from the shortcakes you two had earlier lingering on your tongue, and then your mind goes blank. you’re pulling him closer, he’s busy savouring your taste, taking in your every breath, every little sound you make as he kisses you so well.
heeseung bets that guy you’re so excited to spend time with can’t even make you feel half of what you’re feeling. you’re always going to end up coming back to him for more. after all, no one knows what you want better than heeseung.
the sound of your phone ringing snaps him out of his thoughts. he looks at your slightly red lips as you reach out for your phone, but heeseung beats you to it. he grabs your phone and grins when he sees the caller ID— it’s your study buddy— hands caressing your cheeks as he answers with a smirk. “sorry, my girl will be a bit late today. hope you don’t mind,”
he hangs up, phone somewhere around, and his lips are back on yours again.
2K notes · View notes
babyarmywrites · 2 months ago
Text
someone i could love - han jisung
Tumblr media
Synopsys: In a world where love often strikes like lightning, two former classmates—once distant and overlooked—find themselves drawn together again under the bright but demanding spotlight of the entertainment industry. As Han Jisung battles his own anxieties and the pressures of fame, you slowly discover the quiet, steady flame of a love that’s been there all along. Through awkward moments, late-night studio rehearsals, and gentle confessions, the two of you learn that sometimes love doesn’t roar—it simmers, growing stronger with every shared smile and every small touch, until it becomes impossible to ignore.
Word count: 9,7k
Warnings: fluff, slight angst, but with happy ending, Han's social anxiety, Han running away
Song in title: someone i could love - charlotte cardin
Tumblr media
The ways of love are strange—no doubt about that. Sometimes, all it takes is a single glance. Suddenly, your world tilts, your planet shifts its orbit, and the stars rearrange themselves into something magical. Something otherworldly. A light so blinding, it leaves you dazed. A symphony so loud, it drowns out everything else.
Other times, love creeps in slowly, quietly. Just a spark—barely there—flickering in the shadows, waiting for the smallest gust of wind to breathe it back to life. And when it does, it burns wildly, consuming everything in its path. Like an inactive volcano, silent for years, suddenly erupting with all the emotion it had buried deep inside. This kind of love feels more like longing than anything else.
You meet Han Jisung in school. You share many classes with him, considering you're both foreign students and can only take courses in English. At first, he doesn’t really stand out. He’s shy, a little nerdy, and often keeps to himself. You notice early on that he clams up when he’s uncomfortable and tends to fade into the background unless he’s with people he trusts.
Nonetheless, he has some witty remarks, ones whispered under his breath, not expecting anyone to hear them, that are so funny they make the whole class laugh. He’s definitely a little odd, but there’s something endearing about him. He’s kind, helpful, the sort of person you know you could count on. No one at school has a bad word to say about Han Jisung. He wouldn’t hurt a soul. He smiles warmly at everyone—genuinely, not out of habit—and that smile is something people remember.
You, on the other hand, are a different story.
You’ve got a crowd. Your friends are loud, confident, impossible to ignore. They own every room they walk into, and while you're always with them, you sometimes feel like you don’t fully belong. The odd one out. The quiet presence in the middle of all the noise.
You’re not one for the spotlight, not really—but it can be nice, being surrounded by people. You listen more than you talk. You’re the one who steps in when someone crosses a line, the calm in the chaos. You like your friends, even if they’re a bit too much sometimes. Still, being popular in high school is intoxicating. You like being seen. You like that people know your name, that you’re part of the stories they tell.
And you’re not like the other popular kids. You don’t bully anyone. You’re kind, always smiling—everyone says so. A ray of sunshine, impossible to dislike. You wouldn’t even hurt a beetle.
Everyone is mesmerized by you. Including Han Jisung.
At school, your “relationship” with Han is nothing out of the ordinary. You're not exactly friends, but you sit together in some classes and work on group projects now and then. You only talk about mundane things—never anything deeper than homework or academics. You know he's funny and silly, sometimes clumsy, but it's clear he’s passionate, hardworking, and takes any project he's involved in seriously.
He carries an MP3 player with him everywhere, practically panicking if it goes missing for even a few seconds. He loves talking about music, which you find geeky—but kind of adorable. You think he’s cute, in a helpless little brother sort of way. Not in a would-like-to-kiss way.
Jisung, on the other hand, is convinced he's in love with you from the very first moment you interact—when he asks to borrow a pen. You nod cheerfully and hand him a Hello Kitty pen. As he reaches for it, your hands brush ever so slightly. And that’s it—Han Jisung is doomed.
He makes a quiet promise to himself: he'll savor every second he gets to spend with you. He knows those moments will be limited by social norms, your busy schedule (cool kids always have cool things to do), and his inevitable return to Korea. He hates that his hands get clammy and he gets fidgety around you, but he's grateful for the laughs and easy conversations you share. You're a good listener. You have a skill he envies: the ability to connect with anyone, to befriend whoever crosses your path. He's a little jealous of that, but never resentful—it probably makes him like you even more, even if only from a distance.
If Han is sure of one thing, it’s that you can never find out how he feels. Because his feelings are stupid, he tells himself. He barely knows you. You’re just kids. There’s no way he should feel this attached to the idea of you. So he keeps it quiet. And surprisingly, he manages to hide it for a long time—at least until he returns to Korea.
One day, he’s just gone. No goodbye—not to you, at least. Rumors float around school that he moved back to Korea to pursue a music career. You're surprised, but also oddly proud of him. You didn’t know much about the boba-eyed boy, but if there was one thing you were sure of, it was that he was a music nerd. You make a quiet note to wish him well in whatever he does. And, somewhere in the back of your mind, you kind of hope he makes it big one day.
A few years later, Han finally makes it. He becomes an idol. He debuts with his group, Stray Kids, alongside eight of his friends. He’s finally doing what he’s dreamed of his whole life: making music. He’s having fun, he's found friends he knows are for life.
But still, there’s a certain emptiness inside him.
He finds himself thinking about you every now and then. With every milestone they hit, every award they win, every record they break—he wonders about you. Do you remember him? Do you know he’s kind of famous now? That he’s out there, making music? Do you ever see his face on banners or posters around town? And if you do... are you thinking of him? Are you proud of him?
He tells himself he’ll probably never get answers to those questions.
Until one day, everything changes. One of his members decides to leave the group, and their PR manager is fired for mishandling the situation. A replacement is brought in immediately. The group is called in for a meeting to meet the new recruit.
And the second Han steps into the room, his eyes lock with yours. He recognizes you instantly.
And just like that—like a volcano that’s been dormant for years, quietly building pressure beneath the surface—his heart erupts. All the feelings he thought he buried come rushing back, stronger than ever.
"Han-ah! Close your mouth, or a mosquito’s gonna fly in!" Changbin teases, punching the younger boy playfully on the arm.
"Hyung! Hyung!" Seungmin calls out, trying to break Jisung out of whatever trance he’s stuck in. He waves his hands dramatically in front of those sparkly, boba-like eyes—locked firmly on you—but nothing in that moment could bring Han back to earth.
Bang Chan watches from the side, quietly trying to make sense of the situation. He’s seen his bandmate in all kinds of moods—he’s seen him go completely silent around strangers, and he’s seen him bounce off the walls, spewing nervous nonsense thanks to his social anxiety. But this? This is something else entirely.
Standing there in front of you, Han Jisung is frozen. Speechless.
But his eyes tell a different story. They’re calm. Full of fondness and familiarity.
"What is wrong with your friend?" Seungmin asks Chris, his voice sarcastic, but with a hint of concern—the kind he reserves for his bandmates.
Jisung’s brain doesn’t register anything happening around him. He doesn't hear the chaotic bickering between Hyunjin and Minho. He doesn’t see Seungmin or Jeongin making ridiculous faces, failing miserably at trying to snap him out of it.
All he sees is you.
He watches as a warm smile spreads across your face. He watches the moment you recognize him—the way your eyes crinkle with genuine happiness at seeing someone from the past. Someone you didn’t expect.
"Long time no see, Han Jisung!" you say brightly—and the entire room freezes. The members stare at you in stunned disbelief, silently wondering how and since when you’ve known their beloved rapper.
Han finally snaps out of his daze and acts on pure instinct. He crosses the room in a few long strides and pulls you into a tight hug. Neither of your brains fully processes what’s happening—if he weren't so shocked, he’s certain he would’ve run in the opposite direction instead of being this bold. But he can’t help it. You’re here. You’re finally here.
He’s spent so much time daydreaming about this moment, imagining what he would do, what he would say. But now that it’s real, all those carefully crafted scenarios vanish. Logic is gone. All that remains is something primal, a feeling so deeply rooted it overrides everything else.
You don’t hesitate. You hug him back, your arms wrapping around his lean torso. He smells like a dream. His oversized T-shirt is soft against your skin, warm and comforting—a perfect embrace, one that soothes a restless heart.
“It’s so great to see you again,” he whispers. You’re pretty sure the words were meant for your ears only, but he’s far too excited to control his volume. Everyone hears the not-so-subtle confession, and the room erupts with hollering and whistling.
But none of it registers. Not for either of you. You're too caught up in the moment.
After a few seconds, you pull away just enough to look at him properly. Your eyes scan his face, drinking in the details. He still has that boyish charm—the sparkly boba eyes, the soft pout, the expressive brows, the round cheeks—but he’s changed, too. There’s a maturity in his features now. He’s devilishly handsome in that same geeky, endearing way, but he’s grown into himself. His hair is professionally styled, his skin smooth and glassy, and his signature moles glimmer like rhinestones on his cheeks.
“Ahem.”
Someone clears their throat. Loudly. Both you and Han turn toward Bang Chan like startled deer caught in headlights. Han practically jumps back with a squeak, quickly bowing and blurting out a rapid “Annyeonghaseyo!”—as if the last five minutes hadn’t just happened. He looks like a cartoon character, and you can’t help but laugh at his flustered antics.
You respond in perfect Korean and bow respectfully, greeting each of the members one by one. Your formality surprises them—and Han most of all. You speak the language so fluently, your mannerisms so naturally Korean-like, he’s speechless.
He watches as you chat with Chan, still speaking Korean, and his surprise only grows. He doesn’t remember you ever knowing the language, let alone mentioning a visit to his home country. Somehow, impossibly, this new side of you makes him fall even harder.
The other members chime in, turning the conversation into a full-on interrogation. Where are you from? How did you learn Korean? How do you know Han Jisung? How close are you to their beloved Quokka-boy?
You explain everything. After high school, you moved to Seoul for university. Even though you took English-taught courses, your scholarship required you to learn Korean. After graduation, you decided to stay in the country as you were given a great work opportunity at a renowned company, you just couldn’t miss out on. You tell them that a few weeks ago, a headhunter from JYP Entertainment offered you a payment package impressive enough to switch companies.
Which brings you here. Their new PR Manager.
Han hangs on every word, completely captivated by your confidence. You’ve changed so much. You’re still beautiful—gorgeous, even—but there’s a new polish to you. The way you dress, the way you speak, the energy you carry. It’s probably because it’s your first day at JYPE and you’re trying to stay professional in order to make a good first impression. Still, he wonders: Do you still dress like you used to outside of work? Still laugh the same way? Still walk with that same bounce in your step?
No matter how much you’ve grown, one thing hasn’t changed: your warmth. Your smile still lights up every room. You still speak with that signature fondness. Your eyes still shine with curiosity.
He's standing so close now. Closer than you ever thought he would be again.
And you won’t lie—you don’t mind it. Not even a little.
It’s strange, isn’t it? The way time toys with you. How someone can slip out of your life, leaving behind nothing but fading memories and half-buried what-ifs… only to reappear like a song you used to love but forgot how it went. One moment he’s just a thought in the back of your mind, and the next—he’s here. Real. Right in front of you.
And you can’t stop wondering: did you two just meet at the wrong time?
Because back then… you weren’t ready. You thought you were. You convinced yourself you had it all figured out. But the truth is, you didn’t really see him. Not fully. Not in the way he deserved to be seen.
Your head was somewhere else—floating in clouds, chasing distractions that meant nothing in the long run. You didn’t know what love looked like when it was quiet and patient. You didn’t know what he looked like when he was trying to show you.
And maybe it’s foolish, maybe it’s far too late—but now, standing here with him looking at you like you’re still someone worth remembering… you’d give anything to try again. Not to go back—no. But to reach for something new built on the pieces you never really let go of.
He’s older now. You are too. And even with all the growing up you’ve both done, something about this moment feels like home. Like something you didn’t realize you were missing until it was standing right in front of you again.
You wonder if he feels it too.
Maybe this is the universe finally playing fair. Maybe it’s just another cruel twist in the plot. You don’t know.
But if he asked—if he even hinted—you know you’d try. You’d try to make it up to him.
Not with dramatic apologies or perfect words. Just with something real. Something honest. You’d show up, fully present this time. You’d stay.
If he lets you.
You’re standing right there.
He swears his heart is doing something it shouldn’t be allowed to—skipping beats, crashing against his ribs like it’s trying to break free, to get to you. You haven’t even touched him again, not since that first hug, but he still feels your presence like static on his skin.
It should scare him. It should be too much. But it isn’t. Not even close.
Because to him, you’re already a sin. A temptation he surrendered to a long time ago.
And he doesn't care.
He never stood a chance, not really—not when it came to you. You were sunlight and softness and a mess of contradictions, and he was a kid who didn’t know what to do with the way you made the world feel brighter and heavier at the same time. He kept his distance then because he thought he had to. Because he thought someone like you—someone with so much light—would never want someone like him. Someone who hid in shadows and second-guessed everything he felt.
But now? You’re back. You’re here. And he realizes with terrifying clarity: he doesn’t care if you hurt him.
You could burst into flames right in front of him, and he’d still reach out. You could look him in the eye, say you were only ever passing through, and he’d still hold the door open for you to come and go as you please. He’s not afraid of getting burned—not if it means being near you, even just for a moment.
Because there’s something about you that’s sweeter than the danger. Softer than the risk. Something he can't refuse.
If you asked—if you even looked at him a certain way—he’d become anything for you. A friend. A fool. A flame. A home.
You could wound him again and again, and he’d still stand there, arms open, ready to take it. Ready to hold the pain if it meant he could have a piece of you too.
He’s not like the others. The ones who looked at you and ran because they didn’t know what to do with someone so fiercely alive. Han isn’t running. Not this time.
He’ll stay.
He’ll take the storm, the fire, the chaos. He’ll embrace you, every imperfect part. Every beautiful flaw.
Because, no matter how much it might hurt, loving you has always felt better than losing you.
After the initial meeting and the gruesome interrogation inflicted on you by the members of Stray Kids, the following days go by without anything exceptional happening. You're trying your hardest to catch up on all the aspects of your new job, how you should approach certain topics of conversation, and how to depict the members online in different styles of interviews and shows. Their pre-established style allows their persona to shine through, individually and as a group. You're drowning in work, you're stressed, and worst of all, starving, having not eaten anything else throughout the day, for one chocolate croissant from the company cafeteria, which you considered would go well with your morning coffee.
You’re organizing a few papers on your tablet when you hear a soft shuffle behind you. You turn around and find Han lingering by the doorway like he’s considering turning back.
You raise an eyebrow. “You lost, Han Jisung?”
He grins nervously, then immediately glances at the floor. “No—well, kind of. Emotionally? Spiritually? Logistically? No. I’m here for a reason. I swear.”
You blink at him. “Okay… Should I be worried?”
He steps inside and shuts the door behind him, hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie. “No, no—definitely not. I mean, unless… you hate food. Or me. But I’m hoping you don’t hate either.”
You tilt your head, trying to hide your smile. “That’s a strange way to ask a question, Han.”
“Right.” He exhales. “Okay. Let me restart.”
He straightens his posture dramatically, puffing up like he’s about to give a TED Talk, then immediately deflates. “Wow, nope. That felt worse. Why is this so hard?”
You chuckle softly, waiting.
“Okay. So,” he finally says, stepping closer. “I was thinking… maybe you and I could grab dinner sometime soon? Just, you know, catch up, reminisce about the good old days, complain about school, laugh about how socially awkward I was—and still am, apparently.”
You laugh, genuinely now. “You are kind of in a drama, Han.”
“Yeah, well, if this is a drama, I’m the comic relief. And also the love interest. And probably the tragic backstory guy, too. Triple threat.” He smirks, but there’s a flicker of nervousness in his eyes. “But seriously… I’d like to spend some time with you. Just us. Nothing fancy. We could go somewhere lowkey. I promise I won’t even rap at you unless you specifically request it.”
You pretend to consider. “Hmm… will there be food?”
“Unlimited food,” he nods. “Possibly some awkward small-talk and excited rambling. And maybe—if you’re lucky—an old embarrassing story or two about high school Jisung.”
“Well, how could I say no to that?”
He grins so wide it reaches his eyes, boyish and bright. “So that’s a yes?”
You nod. “That’s a yes.”
Han blinks. “Wait—really?”
You smile. “You were convincing. Also, I’m starving. And you said food.”
“Oh, thank God,” he breathes, the tension melting from his shoulders. “Because if you’d said no, I would’ve had to awkwardly moonwalk out of here and pretend this conversation never happened.”
You laugh. “You still could, if you really wanted to.”
“Tempting, but I’d rather feed you than humiliate myself. Again.” He glances around. “You done for the day?”
You check the time, then shrug. “Honestly? I’ve been pretending to understand this document for the last twenty minutes. I think my brain left the building an hour ago.”
“Perfect,” he says, eyes lighting up. “Come on, then. There’s this little place not far from here. Nothing fancy, but they’ve got killer tteokbokki and mandu.”
“That sounds dangerously good,” you say, grabbing your bag.
“Dangerously necessary,” he corrects, holding the door open for you.
You walk out side by side, the office lights humming behind you, the air outside thick with evening warmth. The conversation picks up easily, full of half-finished stories and half-remembered jokes from school. It’s easy—familiar in the best way.
You’re walking beside him, close enough for your arms to brush every now and then, and Han’s trying not to lose his mind about it. You actually said yes.
You’re not just being polite either—you’re laughing, your steps are light, and you’re looking at him like he’s... someone. Not a background character in your story. Not the awkward kid who used to whisper sarcastic comments during group presentations. Just—Han. And okay, maybe this isn’t a date. But it feels like something. Something rare. Something new. And if this is all he gets, just this one night where you see him in full color instead of the faded tones he’s used to—he’ll take it.
The restaurant is tucked into a quiet side street, warm light glowing through foggy windows. Inside, it smells like fried batter, chili oil, and something sweet simmering in the back. Comfort food.
You slide into the booth across from Han, who immediately flattens the paper napkin on the table like it’s a formal dinner setting. “Please prepare your palate,” he says seriously. “Tonight’s menu includes nostalgia, sodium, and possible indigestion.”
You snort. “Perfect. That’s exactly my vibe.”
He grins, a little lopsided and proud of himself for making you laugh.
When the food comes—steaming hot bowls of tteokbokki, crispy mandu, and two fizzy drinks you can’t even name—he watches carefully as you take your first bite.
You groan. “Oh my god. This is so good.”
“I know, right?” He lights up. “I found this place by accident during trainee hell weeks. It became my go-to comfort spot. Kind of like a greasy therapist.”
He’s funny. He’s always been funny, you realize—but back then, you were too busy stressing over GPA and being the “nice one” in your loud friend group to really see him. He was just the shy guy with headphones and brilliant one-liners whispered under his breath.
You didn’t know he was like this.
Effortlessly charming. Warm. Quick. Comfortable in his skin, but still that same gentle, quiet soul.
And maybe it’s just the glow of the restaurant lights, or the way he’s smiling like he’s genuinely happy just to be here—but you suddenly feel something strange curl in your chest.
A small, silent question: How much did I miss… by not looking closer?
You shake it off, refocus on your food. On him. On now. He’s still talking about old dorm horror stories, his eyes bright with memory, his hands animated. And you’re listening. Really listening.
After that dinner, something between you and Han shifts—not dramatically, but enough that you notice. You find yourself looking for him during work hours, though it’s not easy. Stray Kids are nonstop, always pulled in every direction: studio sessions, dance rehearsals, photoshoots, YouTube lives—you name it. Their schedules are packed tight, and they rarely stop moving.
Yet somehow, Han never fails to drop by your office every single day he’s at the building. Without fail, he shows up with a snack or a coffee in hand, plus a lame joke that somehow gets funnier each time. Some days, he’s already in full makeup, looking sharp and camera-ready; other days, he strolls in wearing sweats and a hoodie, hair tousled, face completely bare—but somehow still managing to look effortlessly handsome.
Every time you see him, it feels a little bit easier to breathe. His jokes get better, his smiles wider, and his hugs—well, his hugs start to feel warmer, like they’re meant just for you. You realize slowly, maybe even a little reluctantly, that he’s becoming something you didn’t expect to want so much. You're knee-deep in schedules and promo notes when a soft knock taps against your open office door.
“Delivery for the overworked and under-caffeinated,” Han says, stepping in with two iced Americanos and a triumphant grin.
You glance up, smiling despite the stress clouding your head. “If this is poisoned, make it quick. I’ve lived a good life.”
“Tempting, but I didn’t have time to Google the dosage.” He sets the coffee on your desk and perches on the edge of the guest chair like he might spring back up at any moment. His hoodie sleeves are pushed up, revealing a few faint ink stains on his wrist, probably from lyric scribbles or doodles. His hair is still damp from rehearsal, slightly curling at the ends. “I brought a joke, too,” he announces, already grinning like he knows it’s terrible.
“Of course you did.”
“What’s a producer’s favorite kind of rice?”
You give him a flat look. “Oh no.”
“Beats-rice,” he declares, finger guns and all.
You groan loudly, covering your face with one hand. “That’s not even a pun.”
“Sure it is. You just don’t get my genius.”
“I do. That’s the problem.”
He chuckles, and for a moment, the room feels lighter, like you’ve both pressed pause on the chaos just outside your door. You sip the coffee he brought and sigh. “You really don’t have to keep doing this, you know.”
“I know,” he says, quiet for a beat. “But I want to.”
You look at him then, really look, and something inside you shifts—just slightly. He’s not the awkward boy from school anymore. Or maybe he is, but now you see the charm in it. The steadiness. The ease. And for the first time, you catch yourself wondering—not all at once, but slowly, gently—how you ever missed this.
You didn’t come here looking for anything. Not love. Not distraction. Especially not someone who smiles like that and makes you laugh like you’re seventeen again.
You’ve always been fine on your own—thrived in your own space, danced to your own rhythm. You’ve built your world with your own two hands, moved cities, chased dreams, handled heartbreaks. You’ve learned not to need anyone else to feel whole.
But lately, when Han looks at you—when he’s lingering in your doorway with some stupid joke and too much hope in his eyes—you feel yourself softening in ways you didn’t plan for.
You try to remind yourself you’re not here for this. You came to work. To be good at what you do. To keep your head down and your heart tucked away. And yet. Something about the way he speaks to you—like you’re familiar and new at the same time—makes you want to reach out. To ask about his sign, like you’re back in high school, making up reasons to keep the conversation going. To wonder if maybe, just maybe, he has some kind of plan that you’re quietly becoming part of.
And even though you told yourself you didn’t need anybody…
You can’t help thinking—if he asked, if he really asked—you might take his hand. And you’d follow him. Wherever this road is going.
Jisung, on the other hand, knows he’s falling.
It’s not subtle, not slow, not something creeping in quietly—it’s loud, immediate, undeniable. It’s been this way since the moment you walked back into his life like no time had passed at all. Since the second you said his name and smiled like you’d been saving that moment just for him.
Back then, back in school, he tried to keep his feelings under control. Told himself you were out of reach. You were kind, warm, brilliant—but you didn’t look at him like that. And he accepted it. Smiled through it. Let himself have the tiniest piece of you in memories and old conversations he kept replaying in his head like a favorite movie.
But now?
Now you’re here. In front of him. Talking to him, joking with him, sharing little pieces of your life like maybe—just maybe—he’s someone who belongs there.
He doesn’t have to guess how he feels. He wants you. Wants to see you every day. Wants to be the reason your smile shows up at random. Wants to give you every dumb, sweet, messy part of himself and trust that maybe this time, you'll see him.
He finds himself wondering what tomorrow will bring—not in fear, but in hope. How your laugh will sound. What you'll be wearing. Whether your hair will be up or down. What tiny, perfect version of you he’ll get to witness next.
He’s not just falling. He’s already there. And all he can do now is hope you’ll look back and see him—clearly, fully—for the first time.
It’s late—later than it should be—and the building is quiet in that kind of way that makes every sound feel more important. The hallway lights are dimmed, and the usual buzz of activity has finally gone still, leaving only a handful of people still working through the night. Of course, Han Jisung is one of them.
You were on your way out—coat slung over your arm, bag in hand—when you passed by the familiar studio door and noticed the light was still on. Something in you paused.
You knock once, twice, and then push the door open.
“Still here?” you ask softly, your voice cutting through the mellow instrumental that plays low through the speakers.
Han’s sitting at his desk, headphones slung around his neck, fingers fiddling with a mechanical pencil. He looks up, surprised—and maybe just a little bit thrilled.
“Guilty,” he says, sheepish. “I swear I was only going to be here for an hour.”
You smile, stepping inside and closing the door behind you. “Let me guess—you fell into the zone?”
“More like the zone dragged me in and locked the door,” he says, spinning slowly in his chair to face you fully. “You still here too?”
“Just finished. I was leaving when I saw your light on.”
He watches you quietly for a second, something tender and open in his gaze. “Thanks for checking.”
There’s a pause—not awkward, just still. You lean against the wall, watching him, and suddenly, the room feels warmer than it did a second ago.
“What are you working on?” you ask, nodding toward the screen.
He turns back to it, clicks play. A soft beat rolls out, gentle but layered—melancholy in a way that makes your chest ache just a little. And then, over it, his voice enters—mellow, melodic, not quite a rap, not quite a ballad. It’s something in between. Honest. A little raw.
You listen in silence until the sample fades.
“That was…” you start, but the words don’t come easily. “Beautiful.”
Han’s ears turn a little pink. He shrugs. “It’s not finished.”
You step closer, slow and careful, not entirely sure why your heart’s started beating faster.
“It sounds like something you needed to write,” you say.
He looks up at you, and for once, he doesn’t hide what he’s feeling. It’s all there—affection, longing, a hundred unsaid things tucked behind his tired smile.
“Yeah,” he says quietly. “It is.”
You hold his gaze longer than you mean to. And that’s when you feel it—that subtle shift again. Not drastic. Not earth-shattering. But real. Something warm flickering to life just under your skin. You smile, then reach out and pluck the uneaten protein bar off his desk. “If you’re going to work late, you should at least eat something.
”He blinks, then laughs. “You just stole my dinner.”
You grin. “You can get revenge tomorrow. I’ll be here.”
“I know,” he says, and it comes out softer than you expect.
You leave the studio with the bar in hand, heart a little lighter, thoughts a little messier. Behind you, Han just sits there for a while, staring at the closed door like he’s trying to memorize the exact way you left. The beat plays again, and this time, he hums along with it—already thinking of the next line.
Months go by and your relationship with Jisung shifts again. Not dramatically, but noticeably. You learn that he is big on physical touch. You also learn, that you enjoy it more when it comes to him.
It starts with longer hugs.
At first, they were brief, polite—friendly greetings between two people rekindling an old connection. But over time, they change. His arms start to linger around your waist just a second longer than they should. Your hands stay looped behind his back before either of you lets go. The silences between you grow comfortable, thick with something that isn’t quite tension but feels like possibility.
Sometimes, when you're standing close—talking over a screen or laughing at something ridiculous—you feel the light touch of his hand against your lower back, subtle and grounding. Other times, it’s his shoulder brushing yours when you lean in to read something on his tablet, his pinky finger twitching just enough to graze yours on the armrest.
None of it is overwhelming. It's slow, natural, soft. So soft, it almost doesn’t feel like change—until you realize how much you’ve started waiting for it.
The late nights at the studio become your thing. After the building clears out and the chaos dies down, you find yourselves drifting back there, like gravity pulling you both to the same point. At first, you pretended it was work—consulting on PR angles, previewing content together. But now you both know it’s not about that. Not really.
He plays you snippets of unfinished songs. You tell him stories from your day, things that made you laugh or pissed you off. Sometimes you do nothing but sit side by side on the couch, phones forgotten in your laps, the silence wrapping around you like a blanket.
One night, it’s raining hard outside—steady and rhythmic, tapping against the windows like it’s part of the melody playing through his speakers. You’re curled up at one end of the studio couch, legs tucked under you, your head resting on the cushion. He’s sitting beside you, close, close enough that his warmth bleeds into your skin.
You're not even sure when the closeness shifts into something else.
You must’ve been talking. Or maybe you weren’t. But at some point, your head ends up on his shoulder. And then he leans his head against yours. And when your eyes finally flutter closed, lulled by the steady sound of rain and the softness of his voice humming under his breath—you don’t pull away.
Neither does he.
You wake up hours later, disoriented by the soft hum of monitors and the ache in your neck. The studio lights are low, casting a warm glow over everything. You’re curled into Jisung’s side now, both of you on your sides, his arm loosely wrapped around your waist, your hand resting on his chest.
He’s still asleep, breathing steady, lashes fluttering just slightly like he’s dreaming something good.
And for a second, you just watch him. Really watch him.
The boy you barely noticed back then—quiet, awkward, too shy to speak in front of strangers—is now the man holding you like you’ve always belonged there. You wonder how many moments like this you missed by not looking up back then. How much warmth you overlooked because you were too caught up in your own world to see what was quietly blooming right beside you.
Your fingers twitch against his chest.
Maybe this isn’t where the story ends—or even begins. Maybe this is the middle. The part where everything starts to change, not with fireworks or declarations, but with one quiet night. Two people. And the slow, gentle rhythm of falling into something that feels dangerously close to love.
The soft light of morning creeps in through the narrow studio windows, pale and hazy, casting sleepy golden streaks across the scattered notebooks and empty coffee cups. You blink awake slowly, head heavy with sleep, and the first thing you register is warmth. Steady, solid warmth.
You shift slightly—and freeze.
You’re curled into Jisung’s chest, his arm still wrapped around you protectively, like his body didn’t get the memo that the night is over. His hoodie smells like fabric softener and faint cologne. His fingers twitch slightly against your waist, like even in sleep, he doesn’t want to let go. You glance up. His eyes are cracked open, bleary and still half-lost in a dream. When he realizes you're awake, he stiffens—just a bit.
“Morning,” you whisper, your voice hoarse.
He swallows. “Hi.”
Neither of you moves. The silence stretches, not uncomfortable, just full of words that neither of you know how to say yet.
“I didn’t mean to—” he starts, then winces. “Well, I did mean to fall asleep, just not… like this. I mean—uh—not that I’m complaining! Or that it was bad! I just—sleep is important, you know? And this couch is surprisingly comfortable, which is probably why—”
“Jisung.”
He shuts up immediately.
You shift slightly, propping yourself on your elbow. “Are we gonna pretend that didn’t happen?”
His eyes search yours, uncertain. “Do you want to pretend?”
You hesitate.
“No,” you admit quietly. “But I don’t know what it was.”
He nods, mouth pressed in a tight line. “Yeah. Same.”
Another beat of silence.
“I mean,” he continues, rubbing the back of his neck, “I didn’t… plan to fall asleep holding you like some rom-com lead, but also… I didn’t hate it. Like, at all.”
You huff a laugh. “Yeah, I noticed.”
“Okay, rude,” he mutters, but there’s a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “But fair.”
You sit up slowly, stretching your legs. “I think we’re both confused.”
“Confused is my permanent state,” he mutters under his breath, then louder: “But yeah. I just— It’s weird, because it’s not like I’ve had this whole plan or something. I just... like being around you. A lot. More than I should, maybe.”
That softens something in your chest.
You nod slowly. “And I think... I like it, too. You. Being around you. But I also—this wasn’t supposed to happen. Not now. Not like this.”
“I know,” he says, quieter now. “But it did.”
You meet his gaze and suddenly it feels heavy again—not in a bad way, but in the way that makes you aware of every inch between you, every quiet thing unsaid.
“So what do we do?” you ask.
He shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know. Maybe… we just keep doing what we’re doing? No pressure, no labels. Just… seeing where it goes?”
You watch him for a moment. His messy hair, the sleep still clinging to his lashes, the vulnerability in his eyes.
You nod. “Okay. We’ll see.”
He lets out a breath like he’s been holding it the whole night. “Cool. Yeah. That works. I’m good at casual. Super casual. Like—flannel shirt casual. Or slippers and cereal casual.”
You laugh again, warm and real. “You’re a disaster.”
“And yet, here I am,” he grins, standing up and stretching his arms. “Charming disaster. Patent pending.”
You roll your eyes, but the fondness in your chest is impossible to deny. As he offers you his hand to help you up, you realize you're still not entirely sure what’s happening between you two. But maybe, for now, that’s enough.
You try to act normal.
Really, you do. You keep your expression unreadable, posture relaxed, voice calm as you scroll through the draft PR schedule on your tablet. Han sits across the table in the conference room with the rest of the members, nodding along to whatever Bang Chan is explaining—but you can feel it.
That awareness.
The air feels... different. Heavy in the space between you, like everyone else is swimming through water while the two of you are tethered by an invisible string.
You haven’t even made eye contact yet, and still—your skin prickles with the memory of his arm wrapped around you the night before, the soft way he’d looked at you when he thought you weren’t watching.
You shift in your seat, pretending to adjust your tablet. His foot accidentally nudges yours under the table.
You freeze. He does, too. Then he slowly, very slowly pulls away, like he’s defusing a bomb.
Bang Chan’s voice cuts through the weird tension in your head. “So that’s the plan for the next two weeks. Any questions?”
The table remains quiet.
“No? Cool. Thanks for joining, everyone.”
The room bursts into motion—papers shuffling, chairs scraping, conversation picking up.
You gather your things quickly, hoping to escape without incident. But then—
“Hey,” Chan says softly. Too softly. You glance up to find him watching you. His tone is casual, but his eyes aren’t. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”
You hesitate. Han glances up too, subtly alert.
“Of course,” you say, smiling like this isn’t mildly terrifying.
He waits until the room has cleared before speaking. Not accusingly, not even cold—just… leader-mode. Thoughtful. Quietly concerned.
“I just want to check in,” he says. “About you and Han.”
Your stomach tightens.
“There’s nothing going on,” you say automatically, maybe a little too quickly.
Chan raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t call you out.
“Okay. I believe you,” he says, and he probably does. Mostly. “But I also see things. Jisung doesn’t let people in easily. He jokes, flirts, plays around, but real closeness? That’s rare with him. And it’s happening. With you.”
You look away.
“I’m not mad,” he adds quickly. “Just… making sure you know. Because if this turns into something more, it’s not just you who’s affected. It’s him. It’s all of us.”
“I do know,” you say quietly. “And I would never do anything to hurt him. Or your group.”
He studies you for a moment, then nods. “I trust that. I just hope you’re both being honest—with yourselves, and each other.”
You manage a small smile. “We’re trying.”
He gives a soft chuckle, then rubs the back of his neck. “Alright. Now get out of here before I start sounding like a dad.”
You laugh and nod, turning to leave—
—only to nearly collide with Han waiting just outside the door, his hands in his pockets, pretending to admire a crack in the wall like it’s a masterpiece.
You blink. “Were you… eavesdropping?”
“No!” he says quickly. “I was… standing. Nearby. And hearing. Coincidentally.”
You sigh. He glances toward the office behind you. “Chan give you the ‘don’t break my members’ hearts’ talk?”
“Kind of,” you mutter. “Less dramatic. More dad energy.”
Han grins, then bumps your shoulder with his. “You okay?”
You nod. “Are you?”
“Me?” he asks, eyes wide. “I’m great. Except I might pass out from how awkward that whole thing was.”
You chuckle.
“Hey,” he says again, this time softer. “We’re still good, right? Like... us?”
Your heart thuds. Slowly, you smile. “Yeah. We’re good.” For now.
Schedules shift.
Suddenly, the easy rhythm you and Jisung had found — the morning check-ins, late-night studio rambling, quiet glances over coffee — all begin to fade, smothered beneath the weight of Stray Kids' comeback prep.
The tension starts subtly. Fewer messages. Shorter replies. A missed lunch here, a forgotten inside joke there. You try not to take it personally. You know how this works. You’ve worked with idols before. Comeback seasons are brutal — rehearsals, recordings, performances, content shoots — every second of their day becomes pre-packaged and consumed by the machine.
But still, it stings.
Especially when you pass him in the hall and his eyes barely lift from the floor.
It’s not just you he’s pulling away from. You notice it in the way the members glance at him, quiet concern flickering between them. Chan’s brow is always furrowed these days. Hyunjin’s usual teasing toward Han has softened into wordless pats on the shoulder. And you — well, you remember the conversation Jisung once had with you late one night in the studio, sitting cross-legged on the floor with takeout between you.
“I don’t always know how to ask for space,” he had admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “Sometimes I disappear instead. I know it sucks. But it’s not because I want to push people away. It’s because I’m scared if I don’t, I’ll fall apart with them watching.”
You hadn’t fully understood then. You do now. Because now he’s disappearing — not just emotionally, but physically too. He practically lives in the studio, his messages unread, the space where his presence used to sit in your day now hollow. And you feel it.
Not just the absence of his coffee deliveries or dumb puns or warm hugs — but him. The way he made the world feel softer when he was around. Like you weren’t alone in your own spirals.
You pass by the studio late one evening, and through the tiny rectangular window, you catch a glimpse of him. He’s hunched over the desk, headphones on, hair a mess, his leg bouncing rapidly as he re-records a line for the third, maybe fourth time. Frustration is written all over his face.
You don’t knock. Because you know he won’t hear it. Or he’ll pretend not to. Instead, you linger for just a second longer, remembering how easy things felt when he used to wave at you through that very window, silly grin and all. And now? Now, the silence between you is starting to echo louder than anything either of you had the courage to say.
The hallway is quiet — too quiet — except for the static buzz in Jisung’s ears, the kind that comes when exhaustion bleeds into something darker. He drags his hoodie up over his head, eyes unfocused, shoulders hunched as he rounds the corner.
That’s when he sees you.
You’re standing by the vending machine with Changbin, your heads tilted close together, talking in low voices. You're smiling — not wide, not beaming — but soft, gentle. The kind of smile Jisung used to get. The one that made his stomach twist in that way that felt like home and chaos at the same time.
He can’t hear what you’re saying, but he doesn’t have to. His brain, heavy with anxiety and lack of sleep, fills in the blanks. Changbin is funny. He's stable. He’s good with people. And you — you’re beautiful and kind and warm and there. The static in his head becomes a roar. Of course you’re moving on. Why wouldn’t you? Of course someone like Changbin would make you laugh. Of course someone like Jisung, who shuts down and disappears the moment life tilts a little, could never hold your attention for long.
He watches you place a hand gently on Changbin’s arm, brows furrowed in something that looks like concern, and it burns. Jealousy, shame, heartbreak — all in one sharp, unbearable flash.
He turns on his heel before either of you spot him and bolts. Down the hallway, past the practice rooms, through the stairwell — anywhere that isn't here.
He doesn’t stop until the city lights blur around him, and his phone buzzes endlessly in his pocket — texts from Chan, calls from Minho, your name flashing on screen — and he ignores them all.
He needs air. He needs time. He needs less.
Meanwhile, back in the building, panic starts to ripple.
“He’s not in the studio?” Chan asks, already pulling out his phone.
“No. I checked the dance rooms too,” Seungmin says. “Nothing.”
You step back, heart hammering in your chest. “He—he saw me and Changbin. Do you think…?”
Chan’s eyes narrow. “Saw you doing what?”
“We were talking about him,” you say quickly, guilt washing over you. “I was trying to ask for advice. I just—I didn’t know how to help him without making him feel cornered.”
Changbin nods. “We weren’t exactly being subtle. He probably jumped to the worst conclusion.”
“And now he’s out there alone, spiraling,” Chan mutters, already dialing. “Damn it, Jisung.”
Jisung leans against the cold brick wall outside, the night pressing in around him like a suffocating blanket. His phone vibrates relentlessly in his pocket, but he’s too numb to answer. Instead, he pulls it out and scrolls through the flood of missed calls and messages. One notification catches his eye — a voicemail from you.
His thumb hovers over the play button. Curiosity and guilt war inside him. He’s scared of what he might hear, but he can’t stop himself. He presses play.
Your voice trembles through the speaker, raw and fragile, tears audible between your words.
“Jisung, please… I know you want to be found. And if it’s not by me, then… then fine, I won’t come. But at least let someone know where you are, and if you’re okay. Please, I’m begging you.”
His chest tightens, heart pounding with a sudden ache he can’t ignore. He hates that you’re hurting because of him. That he’s left you worried, scared, alone in the dark.
The walls he’s built start to crack.
After a long pause, he unlocks his phone, his fingers trembling as he taps “Share Location.” The screen fills with the blue glow of the map pinpointing where he is. His breath catches. He sends it. Almost instantly, his phone buzzes with a reply from you.
On my way.
For the first time in hours, Jisung feels a flicker of warmth amid the cold night — a fragile thread tethering him back.
You find him sitting alone on the concrete ledge under the Han River bridge, the city lights shimmering on the water’s surface. His shoulders are slumped, eyes fixed on the ripples below, the weight of hours lost heavy in the air between you.
You sit down beside him, careful not to break the fragile silence. The night hums softly around you—cars passing on the bridge above, distant laughter carried by the wind. Neither of you speaks at first.
After a few minutes, Jisung pulls his phone from his pocket, hesitating like he’s about to reveal something deeply personal. He taps on his music app, then presses play. A soft beat fills the quiet, steady and raw.
Then, almost shyly, he begins to sing:
"You can burst into flames, you can wound me next to you If you like, I can be anything Yeah, you can hurt me, I don't care, yeah, you can burn me Unlike those who run away from you, I'll embrace you...”
His voice is low, slightly rough but filled with emotion, each word trembling with meaning you hadn’t realized was there before. You watch his lips move, mesmerized by the vulnerability in the song.
“Like a volcano Love at a temperature that can melt when touched Take me to you, way below to the end of the ground It's okay if everything burns down Even if I go back hundreds of times, my choice is always... you.”
The words echo softly beneath the bridge, and for a moment, the noisy city feels miles away. You feel your chest tighten—not just from the beauty of the song but from the unspoken connection blooming between you both.
When the last note fades, he glances at you, cheeks flushed with embarrassment but eyes hopeful.
You reach out, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead.
“You’re amazing, Jisung.”
He gives you a small, grateful smile, the weight on his shoulders seeming a little lighter now.
You take a deep breath, the cool night air filling your lungs as you gather your thoughts. His eyes stay fixed on you, patient and curious, waiting.
“Jisung,” you begin softly, voice steady despite the flutter in your chest. “I… I think I was blind before. Back in school, I didn’t see you. Not really. I was so caught up in my own world, in my own noise, that I missed what was right in front of me.”
You glance down for a moment, then meet his eyes again, earnest and open. “You could have been someone to love all along. And I’m sorry it took me this long to realize it. I never meant to overlook you, or to make you feel small or invisible.”
Your hand reaches out slowly, hesitating just a second before grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers together. “I want you to know — I have no intention of hurting you. No matter how complicated this is, I would never burn you, or run away. I want to be someone you can trust, someone who stays.”
You pause, searching his face for a sign, a flicker of what you hope to find.
He swallows hard, a shy smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Thank you,” he murmurs, voice low and sincere. “That means more than you know.”
The night wraps around you both like a quiet secret, the world hushed under the bridge. Your fingers brush his arm, and Jisung’s eyes search yours with a fierce, hopeful light.
He leans in slowly, but as your lips almost meet, he bumps his forehead against yours with a soft thud.
“Ah, ouch,” he murmurs, rubbing his forehead and giving you a sheepish, yet proud grin. “Smooth move, right?”
You laugh, the tension breaking like a gentle wave. “Definitely unforgettable.”
With a shy but determined nod, he tries again. This time, the kiss is soft, sweet, and a little awkward — but so real, so full of all the feelings he’s been holding back.
When you pull apart, his cheeks are flushed, but his eyes shine with pride and something more — love.
“I’m not just saying this lightly,” he breathes, voice steady, heart wide open. “I’m in love with you. I have been for a while now, and I’m proud of it. So... will you be my girlfriend?”
You smile, your heart swelling with warmth and something new — the recognition of what you almost missed before.
“Yes,” you whisper, “I’d love that.”
His grin stretches wider than ever, and he pulls you close for another, longer kiss — this time, perfectly imperfect, and just the beginning of everything. After you say yes, Jisung’s grin turns mischievous, eyes sparkling with that trademark cheeky confidence.
He pulls you into a quick hug, whispering loud enough for you to hear and maybe the whole riverbank too, “You’re officially mine now. Sorry, Changbin — you can go to hell.”
You laugh, raising an eyebrow. “Wow, confident much?”
He smirks, puffing out his chest like a knight ready for battle. “Of course! Jealousy is just my version of chivalry. Protecting what’s mine.”
You shake your head, smiling. “You’re such a goofball.”
“Hey, I’m your goofball now. Deal with it.”
And with that, he squeezes your hand like a prize, and you both walk off under the soft glow of the city lights, ready for whatever comes next, together.
From his bandmates' perspective, Jisung becomes insufferable in the following days. He can't stop talking about how he's finally got you, how perfect you are, and how glad he is to finally be able to call you his girlfriend. The boys relentlessly made fun of him, but he couldn't care less.
You push open the door to the dance studio, the faint thump of music and the scrape of sneakers on the floor reaching your ears. The room is alive with energy—Stray Kids mid-rehearsal, muscles moving in sync.
Then, out of the corner of your eye, you spot him.
Han Jisung.
The moment he sees you, his entire body lights up like a sparkler on a summer night. He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, eyes wide, grin impossibly bright.
“Hey! You’re here!” he shouts, nearly tripping over himself as he rushes toward you.
You barely have time to step inside before he’s practically glued to your side, his arm wrapping around your waist like he never wants to let go.
“I missed you all day! Like, seriously, it was torture,” he whines, voice dropping to a mock-serious tone. “I’m not even kidding. I think I might have turned into a sad puppy or something.”
The other members pause their practice, exchanging amused looks. Bang Chan raises an eyebrow, grinning.
“Oh, look at Jisung! The cling monster’s back,” Chan teases, smirking at you. “We were starting to think you vanished for good.”
Changbin joins in, chuckling, “Yeah, we were worried he’d become a hermit again. Glad you showed up before that happened.”
You laugh, shaking your head at their playful ribbing. Jisung, still hanging on your arm, leans in and whispers, “See? Even they know I need my protector. Someone who won’t hurt me.”
You squeeze his hand gently. “I’m not going anywhere, Jisung.”
He beams up at you, the glow of happiness practically radiating off him. The group starts to warm back into their rehearsal, but the mood is lighter, softer—like a fresh breeze after a storm. You glance around at the boys who have become a second family to him—and now, to you—and feel a swell of gratitude. They tease and joke, but beneath it all, you know they’re genuinely glad to see their friend this happy again.
The ways of love are strange—no doubt about that. Sometimes, all it takes is a single glance, and everything changes in an instant. But other times, love grows quietly, almost unnoticed, in the small moments between breaths and words.
Between stolen glances and gentle touches, in laughter shared beneath dim studio lights, and in the silence of a midnight cityscape.
It’s the slow-burning flame, the volcano that rumbles softly before bursting to life, raw and unstoppable.
You realize now that love isn’t always a blinding flash—it can be the quiet spark that finally catches fire, warm and fierce, lighting up everything you never saw before.
And as you look at him—his smile a little crooked, eyes bright and steady like boba—you know that this love, patient and true, is the one worth holding on to.
Because sometimes, the most extraordinary kind of magic is the kind that grows quietly, right beside you, waiting for you to notice.
And in that noticing, everything shifts.
Everything changes.
Everything becomes home.
183 notes · View notes
jellyfishandry · 1 year ago
Text
W/ a drop-dead gorgeous s/o
(^ From this post)
Characters: Shota Aizawa, Toshinori Yagi
CW: gn or fem reader, reader is described as sweet + other things, you're married to Shota cause I said so, insecurities, slight Toshi angst, giving them flowers, uhh lmk if I missed anything
A/N: This kind of thing is like my favorite thing to write. Also I couldn't resist adding a ship dynamic picture for Toshi's. (Tags: @nnnyxie, @bingewatchintilldawn)
Tumblr media
Shota Aizawa
No one knows how he managed to catch your attention. He had a messy appearance, and he could be harsh at times. But you were absolutely stunning. Not to mention you were incredibly polite and sweet. The first time you met his class, almost everyone was shocked. You had probably brought him flowers after the USJ attack to hopefully cheer him up. Just about everyone knew he was married, as he wore a ring, but they did not expect someone so utterly gorgeous and kind to be his partner Hizashi and Nemuri were the only ones you had met, as they had gone to your guys' wedding. But his students are a bit flabbergasted, and are mainly the ones who don’t understand why you married him. But it doesn’t mean they don’t like you, in fact, they love it when you drop by. Mainly because you’re just nice, but also because Shota relaxes more around you, and they have a lower chance of being scolded…  Or higher, depending on how you look at it But Shota is very thankful that you don’t mind the way he looks.  He was initially surprised when he found out you liked him, but he quickly accepted it. Though he will admit he was slightly skeptical at first, wondering if you had an ulterior motive. But you truly just loved him for who he was. And he did eventually understand that you just had pure, innocent intentions.
Toshinori Yagi
He himself has no idea how he pulled you. He doesn’t have a great self image, so he doesn’t understand why you of all people would be interested in him. At the start of your relationship (also when he was crushing) he could barely breathe around you. And early in your relationship people warned him that you might be using him, or something like that, and using your attractiveness to your advantage. He tells them that he knows you would never do that, and he’s correct. It just might take some time for other people to see that. But as your relationship progressed, he became less flustered around you. He’ll occasionally have doubts, and say stuff like “You should be dating someone who still has their life ahead of them.” He was at the point where he was having a hard time comprehending how he could keep living without saving people But you reassure him that he’s the one you want, and that nothing is going to change that After he fought AFO, you brought him some flowers to put on his desk. But you wanted to surprise him, so you didn’t tell him you were coming So when you’re directed to the teachers lounge, there’s some awkward silence before he stands up and goes towards you. “You brought me flowers.?”  He seriously didn’t expect you to get him anything, much less a bouquet of flowers  He’s very grateful for the flowers, and he’ll keep them and then press them when they dry out (they’re sunflowers.) He wants to kiss you, but he feels that doing it in front of the other staff members (specifically Present Mic) wouldn’t be the best idea. And out of the students, Izuku is the first to find out, as he’s known Toshinori the longest.  You probably end up calling him when he’s training him, and Izuku is able to tell reasonably quickly that whoever he’s talking to is very special to him. But he ends up meeting you when the other students do.  And when you are introduced to them, you both receive a lot of questions. But in the end everyone likes having you around, and Toshinori is thankful for you and loves you very much.
Tumblr media
This is the vibe you and Toshi give off
(The tweet is not mine)
Tumblr media
|| Navigation ||
2K notes · View notes
skeletonh0e · 2 months ago
Text
Papa Bone
Tumblr media
Request: Some headncanons (maybe a small one shot but it's up to you) about Sans being Frisk's "father"?
I'm so happy that I'm not the only one sees them like that! (≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)
A/N: I went with a one-shot, and surprisingly, haven't done one for Classic yet. I'm slacking on my fan girl duties. I did include some Y/N x Sans content, but it's mainly Frisk & Sans focused.
The reader is gender neutral, Frisk is non binary, they/them pronouns used for both. I didn't spell check this, fuck it we ball.
Tumblr media
"I don't think your kid likes me,"
Sans turned to you, he's smiling but bone brows are furrowed in slight confusion. Clearly he didn't expect this to be the thing you opened with, "....frisk?"
"Nooooo Sans, the other human you adopted." Sarcasm oozed heavily from your voice.
He chuckled, "adopt is a bit of a strong word."
"What else would you call it?"
You....had him there, Sans would be the first to admit he didn't treat Frisk that well upon first meeting them. He had his reasons and a gut feeling that ended up being wrong in the end, but that had long since passed. He's warmed up to the kid, especially now that they're all on the surface.
If they weren't hanging out with Toriel, they were with him and Pap. And while he's not the most responsible or even the best guardian....he's started looking out for the kid. Taking that protector role more seriously with each passing day.
After a moment he shifts his tone to a more serious one, "not that i'm calling you a liar but uh...don't think the kid doesn't like anyone."
"Yeah, that's the thing. They're normally so chatty and fun loving around everyone but me," you huffed, not angry at Frisk just the situation in general. "They barely acknowledge me unless I pester them, c'mon....you've seen it right?"
He had, Sans always noticed more than he let on. Though he seemed to have underestimated how much it bothered you, he assumes this was just another one of Frisk's quirks....the kid was sweet but also...odd he'll admit. "well, normally i'd say the kid just needs time but we both know that don't apply here."
Frisk befriended nearly eighty percent of the underground when they were being attacked, them not warming up to anyone was odd. Especially Y/N, who had been nothing but friendly toward the kid
"Can you talk to them?" You asked finally, "Like...I know they don't gotta accept me as a second parent or whatever, if they just like me for no reason well- fine. I don't like it but fine. I just wanna make sure I didn't do anything wrong."
There was no change in his expression. Even as his partner, he could be hard to read sometimes. However, something does soften in his gaze. "sure, i'll see what i can do."
-
There was a knock.
"What?"
"you're supposed to say, who's there, c'mon your mom is the master at this. has she not taught you?"
The door is opened, Frisk has a slightly annoyed expression. "Knock knock jokes are lame,"
Sans chuckled, "tough crowd tonight."
Frisk rolled their eyes, wandering back into their room door still open, indicating Sans was free to follow in. Which he did, leaning against the door way as the kid returned to the idle task of messing around with some of the trinkets they had...something looked like a puzzle. Sans would chalk that up to Papyrus' influence.
There's an awkward pause, which Frisk instantly took to mean there was about to be a more serious discussion at hand. Though nothing could have prepared them for what was about to happen next,
"sooo....y/n."
Frisk stopped and tensed, "....what about them?"
Further confirmation something deeper was going on here. "you like 'em?"
"Have I done anything to indicate I don't?"
"you didn't answer the question."
Frisk went silent. Sans waited for a bit, but no response. He took a few steps closer toward the kid, "it's okay if you don't, it's just-"
"Are you two going to have kids together?"
Eyelights vanish and he stands there.....there was nothing on this green earth that could have prepared him for this and he's speechless for a good solid moment before daring to speak again. "....pardon?"
"You two love each other a lot," Frisk explained, "You'll probably get married eventually, right? Have a big ole' wedding? Have a dozen weird monster babies?"
"you're moving at a mile a minute here kid, i'm struggling to keep up?" not that he was opposed to anything mentioned (well not a dozen kids the one he has right now is enough-) but the kid was chatting like it was all just going to just happen tomorrow in the span of a few minutes.
"....where am I in that future?" Frisk asks finally, the puzzle pieces were already starting to come together but Frisk keeps elaborating. "I wanna like them, they seem cool...but....I just keep thinking you guys are gonna have your own family. Your own kids. Ones that are actually yours and- it's not like Mom isn't enough for me. But I like having you around and I..."
They don't wanna lose that.
The feeling in the bag of bones chest was both bitter and warm, the silence lingers for a bit before Frisk gets their hair almost violently ruffled.
"Sans!?"
"lighten up bucko, kids ain't even a guarantee. I do already have one," it's teasing, but friendly and loving. "and even if- i repeat, if me and y/n go that route...you really think i'm gonna deny them a chance to have a big sibling?"
Frisk wanted to keep looking annoyed, but they can't. There's a change in their expression. They perk up, noticeably excited and endeared.
"no one's going anywhere kid and I have a feeling y/n wants you around to." There's something tender in his smile. "so if that's what's bothering ya, don't worry. it ain't gonna happen."
A pause and then, Frisk hugs Sans.
"....thanks dad."
Silence lingered after that, while most were probably aware that was the dynamic the two had...it was the first time Frisk ever called him that. And it was....sweet. No other way to put it.
Sans returns the hug, ruffling their hair more affectionately this time. "nothin' to thank me for kid."
"....you think y/n would be done to get some nice cream tomorrow?"
He chuckled, "yeah, yeah i think they would."
153 notes · View notes
nats--sw · 1 year ago
Text
Gold chain (pt5) | Leah Williamson
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
You and Leah finally have a chat about feelings note: I have one more part to add to this series,, we need to find out what happens at Wimbledon, right? warnings: fluff and slow burn, a bit suggestive(?) nothing really pt1 pt6 my masterlist
"Hi, I stopped by to buy—" Lia was cut off when she saw Leah at the door, her face completely red and her eyes wide with panic. "Are you okay?" she asked, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.
"I almost kissed her," Leah blurted out, still gripping the door handle.
"What? Who?" Lia looked around and lowered her voice. "There's a girl here?"
"Lia, oh my goodness, I kissed her," Leah said, trying to gather her thoughts. "I actually kissed her."
"Leah, what the hell are you talking about?" Lia asked, still whispering. "Who did you kiss?"
"Y/n… she— I kissed her, but it was just a peck," Leah tried to explain, covering her face with her hands.
"So what, she left after you kissed her?" Lia asked, trying to make sense of it all.
"No, she—" Leah's eyes suddenly widened as she remembered. She pushed Lia aside and rushed to the backyard. You were still there, now standing up and looking confused. Leah panicked. "I shouldn't have done that," she muttered, pacing back and forth.
"Wait, hang on a second," Lia said, still trying to catch up. "You kissed a girl."
"I wouldn't even call it a kiss," Leah said, frustration in her voice.
"And you like her."
"Yeah, but she has a lot going on right now. This would just mess things up for her and her career and I—"
"Wait, who is Y/n?" Lia interrupted, trying to piece everything together.
"Y/n is the girl I kissed. She's the tennis player, the one we watched last time, do you remember? This is the last thing she needs right now," Leah said, sounding regretful.
Lia sighed, taking it all in. "Okay, chill out. I need more information… Does she know how you feel?"
Leah stopped pacing and looked at Lia, a mix of hope and fear in her eyes. "I don't know. I don't think so. But now I've probably screwed everything up."
"Alright," Lia said, taking a deep breath. "You need to talk to her."
While that conversation was going on inside, you took the time to gather your courage and confront whatever was happening between you and Leah. She had kissed you, or at least attempted to, and you weren't going to let her run away from this. Drama like this was the last thing you needed.
With determination, you walked towards the house and stepped inside, finding Leah with her hands on her hips and Lia Walti standing a few feet away.
When you first met Leah and saw how close she and Lia were through pictures, it sparked a twinge of jealousy. Now, seeing Lia here, seemingly responsible for Leah's sudden departure upon hearing the doorbell, that jealousy flared into anger. Deep down, you knew Lia wasn't to blame, but the frustration bubbled up nonetheless.
"Y/n," Leah said, holding your gaze for just a moment before looking away.
"Leah," you replied seriously, feeling frustrated that the moment had been interrupted, knowing it could have ended so much better. Part of you wanted to scream at Leah, but another part just wanted to pull her close and kiss her.
"Hey, I'm Lia," Lia interjected, smiling as she reached out to shake your hand.
You glanced at Lia's hand with a slight frown, then looked over at Leah, who noticed the change in your expression. "It's nice to meet you," Lia said, trying to maintain a friendly tone.
"Hmm," was all you added, nodding your head as you took Lia's hand, giving it a firm and deliberately prolonged squeeze. 
Lia immediately caught on to the meaning behind your reaction.
"I'm Leah's teammate. We've been friends for years," Lia said, subtly trying to dispel any misinterpretations. "I understand you're a tennis player, right? I remember watching one of your matches with Leah."
"Yeah, ranked 4th in the world," you said, a touch of arrogance in your smile. You knew you'd slipped a spot in the rankings recently, but that wasn't something Lia needed to know. Jealousy had twisted Lia's innocent words into a perceived threat, which clearly wasn't the case.
Leah watched the interaction between the two of you with discomfort, so she decided to break the silence.
"Uh, I'd forgotten I invited Lia to dinner today," Leah said, her voice tinged with nervousness as she grabbed her car keys from the table. She glanced at Lia and then at you. "I can drop you off at your hotel if you want, or I can order an Uber, whichever is more convenient for you," she offered, fidgeting with the keys avoiding your eyes.
Lia suppressed an urge to intervene, Leah was only making things worse. She widened her eyes in surprise and then looked down, feeling the tension rise.
"Do I have to go?" you asked, pointing at yourself, visibly taken aback.
"Oh— I mean, I wasn't sure if you wanted to stay," Leah stumbled over her words, glancing at Lia for help.
"Don't worry," you replied firmly. "I'll go change and then get an Uber," you continued, remembering how Leah had lent you some clothes after breakfast to make you feel more comfortable. "I can't let you leave your guest here alone; that would be rude," you added, almost mumbling as you headed towards the guest room.
Leah just stared as you walked away without saying anything.
"Are you out of your mind?!" Lia hissed, giving Leah a light slap on the back of her head.
"What are you talking about?" Leah asked, rubbing her head where Lia had hit her.
"How could you even think about kicking her out of your house?" Lia questioned, furrowing her brow in frustration.
"I just didn't want things to get awkward. She seemed a bit uncomfortable around people she doesn't know," Leah explained defensively.
Lia shook her head, struggling to comprehend Leah's actions.
"She's jealous!" Lia whispered to Leah, lowering her voice even further.
"She's not!" Leah said. "Why would she be?"
"Because you kissed her, and now you're practically pushing her out to spend time with another woman," Lia retorted, her frustration mounting. "She must be feeling incredibly hurt right now. I've never seen anyone look at me with such disdain."
Leah took a moment to process Lia's words. She realized she had been kind of dumb about it.
"I feel like I'm messing everything up," Leah confessed, pinching the bridge of her nose with her eyes closed. "I don't know what I'm doing with her."
Lia sighed deeply and placed a reassuring hand on Leah's shoulder.
"I just... I think you're letting nerves get the best of you. I haven't seen you like this in ages," Lia remarked softly.
"I do like her, but... I'm not sure. I care about her a lot, but I don't know if she's ready for a relationship right now," Leah admitted.
"You need to talk to her about it," Lia advised, giving Leah a supportive pat on the back. "Don't let her slip away. She's hot" Lia added with a smirk this time, earning a playful tap on the back from Leah. "Ouch."
With your phone in hand, you walked back into the living room, surprised to find Leah alone, leaning against the couch with her arms crossed.
"I'm leaving now," you said, not bothering to ask where Lia had gone.
Leah took a deep breath and spoke calmly, her voice composed. She had regained her composure and wasn't going to let things get out of hand. She knew how to take control and wasn't going to let her racing heart mess things up again.
"You don't have to leave," she said, looking you straight in the eyes.
"Leah, cut it out," you replied, still annoyed.  "I'll get an Uber and that's it. Let's not complicate things."
As you headed for the door, Leah quickly moved to block your path, grabbing your wrist before you could open it.
"If you're leaving, at least let me take you," she said, her expression a mix of seriousness and sadness. "I brought you here, after all."
You hesitated, biting your lip as you considered her request.
"Please," Leah pleaded, her thumb gently stroking your wrist.
The ride back wasn't nearly as enjoyable as the ride to Leah’s house. Leah didn't say a word, only glancing over when she needed to switch lanes. The rest of the time, she stared straight ahead, jaw clenched and a deep frown creasing her face. Her grip on the steering wheel was tight, her knuckles turning white from the pressure.
She was clearly irritated, maybe with herself. 
“Or maybe with me?” you thought to yourself.
But you were annoyed too. You were often criticized for being stubborn; people always told you that you never backed down. But maybe this time you should. After all, you had been pretty harsh with Lia, who eventually left Leah's place. That was the one thing you could apologize for. The rest? That was all Leah's business. After all, she was the one who kissed you first, then decided to leave you alone in her backyard and almost kicked you out of her house.
You needed to talk, that was sure. 
"I want you to come with me to my room," you said in a low, almost embarrassed tone. You weren't about to apologize for acting like a teenager in a parking lot.
Leah nodded, and as soon as you arrived at your hotel, she stepped out of the car and followed you inside. 
The room greeted you with its untouched state, just your bags thrown on the bed. Leah felt a bit uneasy; everything seemed too neat and cold.
"Leah, I..." you began.
"Y/n," Leah cut in. She raised her hand, signaling to go first. "I'm sorry about what happened at my place," she said sadly. "I was too nervous. I don't know what I was thinking. I was overwhelmed because all I could think about was that I kissed you, and I'm not sure if that was the right move or not," she admitted, pausing between each word.
"What do you mean you're not sure if kissing me was right?" you asked, feeling a pang of hurt. Did Leah regret it?
"I... I'm trying to see things from your side," Leah explained. "You've got a lot going on, and I don't want us to be another problem on your list," she said sincerely.
"This isn't a problem," you said quickly, your brow furrowing. "You're not the problem. How I feel about you—well, that's more complicated. We're in this uncertain place, and it's throwing me off," you added, trying to articulate your feelings. "I might be impulsive, but I crave stability. When you kiss me and then seem to regret it, it messes with my head. If you want to kiss me, Leah, I need you to be sure."
"What?" Leah took a step back, her expression caught between surprise and confusion, as you leaned in closer.
"Do you like me?" you asked directly.
"Yes, of course I like you," Leah said, stumbling over her words.
"Good, because I like you too," you said quickly. "I want to give us a shot, Leah. I want to go on dates with you, watch you play, have you come watch me play. I want all of that and more, but I need you to be sure."
"I am sure," Leah said, straightening up where she stood. "But I'm scared this will interfere with your career. I know relationships demand a lot, and I can be pretty intense, but I also just want to be there for you, to hug you and hold you when everything feels overwhelming. I want to be the person by your side through the tough times."
Her voice softened with determination as she closed the distance between you, reaching out to gently cup your cheeks in her hands.
"I want to get to know you even more," Leah said, locking eyes with you. "I want us to be there for each other when things get tough, to lean on each other through the ups and downs." Her gaze held a sincerity that touched you deeply. “You're someone I really want to know,” she added softly. “Just getting to know a part of you was enough to make me practically lose it when I'm around you.”
Her words left you speechless, a lump forming in your throat. Leah's honesty and vulnerability caught you off guard. You struggled to find words, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment and your deepening feelings for her. But you knew you couldn't leave Leah hanging without a response.
You slid your hand to the back of her neck and pulled her close. When your lips met, it felt like everything clicked into place. 
Leah's lips were soft, and you couldn't resist teasingly biting them. Her hand traced down from your cheek to your waist, and it sent shivers down your spine.
"I think I'm going to fall for you," you murmured against her lips, resting your forehead against hers as you both caught your breath. Your cheeks flushed with warmth, mirroring Leah's own blush.
"Please do," Leah murmured, kissing you again with a gentle urgency. She guided you over to the couch, plopping down and pulling you onto her lap. She held you close, her arms wrapped around your waist, and the kisses kept coming.
You couldn't tell where one kiss ended and the next began, Leah's hands sliding down your back, sending shivers through you. Leah's lips traced a path from your jaw down to your neck, her hand slipping under your shirt at the same time, sending sparks through your skin.
"Wait, Leah," you said, placing your hands on her shoulders, trying to muster the strength to pull away. But Leah looked irresistible, her mouth slightly open, lips swollen from kissing and your bites, eyes dark and dilated with desire.
"Too fast?" she asked softly, her hands resting on your thighs, gently stroking them up and down. You nodded, not trusting your voice to come out steady.
"I'm sorry," Leah apologized, but her smile was sweet rather than mischievous. "Do you want me to leave?"
"No," you replied, settling more comfortably onto her lap. Leah took that as a green light, wrapping her arms around your back and pulling you into a warm, cozy hug. 
Because of the way you were sitting, Leah's head rested level with your chest, her ear pressed against your heartbeat. 
"Your heart's racing," she murmured, hugging you tighter. 
You didn't say anything, just hugged her back, clinging to her like a koala. 
"Shut up," you mumbled, feeling embarrassed. "Can you... I mean, do you want to stay the night?" you asked in a whisper.
Leah chuckled softly. "Well, it’s not like I have much of a choice," she teased, referring to how you had her cornered against the back of the couch.
"Are you uncomfortable?" you whispered softly, your voice muffled against Leah's neck.
"I'm comfy," Leah whispered with her eyes closed. "You're warm, it feels nice."
"Feels nice to me too," you replied softly.
You had lent Leah a pair of your pajamas after room service brought dinner. Now, you were both in bed, facing each other. Under the covers, your legs were tangled together, as if that was enough to keep her from leaving.
"I think it's time to say I love your eyes," you murmured, taking advantage of the dim lighting. It was dark enough to hide how flushed you were, but still light enough to see her reaction. "They're such a pretty color, and they sparkle so much. It's unfair that I've spent so much time looking at them only through a screen."
Leah held her breath for a moment, her heart racing. "Do you like them that much?" she asked, moving a little closer to you. You nodded. "I also like your eyes, your lips, your nose, god, everything about you... I never want to stop seeing your face ever."
You blushed even more, feeling the heat on your cheeks, but you couldn't help but smile. "Stop saying adorable things," you said with a soft laugh.
Leah took your hand gently, intertwining her fingers with yours. "You'll have to get used to it. I could make a list of things I have to tell you for every date we’ll go on."
"You're already planning dates?"
"I won't let you get away from me," Leah laughed, stroking her thumb over your hand.
You were silent for a moment, enjoying the feel of her fingers intertwined with yours.
"Sounds good to me," you finally said, looking Leah in the eye. "I'm ready for those dates."
Leah's smile widened, her eyes sparkling even more. "Then get ready for a lot more of this," she whispered, leaning in to give you a goodnight kiss on your lips.
522 notes · View notes
marsmaximoff · 7 months ago
Text
🎄; 25th of december ❄︎⋆˚⊹☃︎
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
content warning: fem!reader. pure fluff. many curses. reader is 20 and calls him “dym” as a short name, he calls her “love, darling and my love”. they’re dating. let me know if i missed something.
word count: 732 ❣️
author’s note: i wasn’t planning on posting anything for Christmas, but i got this idea and i had to write it. so, i apologize if the quality is not that good, as i usually spend days on my writings while this was all done on a matter of hours. also, english is my third language, so i’m sorry for the mistakes. constructive criticism is welcomed as always. thank you so much for the support on my last post, and merry christmas everybody! 🤍 happy hanukkah, kwanzaa, diwali or any other celebrations too 🫶🏻 and if you don’t celebrate anything, have a happy end of the year ✨ p.s.: god im in love with dmitri and almost no one is posting anything, i’ll probably post more of him. anyways, enjoy!! <3
Tumblr media
the silk grazes my fingertips as i stretch my arm. i tentatively palm the bed looking for some warmth, for him. but the sheets and pillows are the only things left around me.
the screen of my phone clears up as i blink. 11:28 a.m. with a bit more of focus, the notifications slowly reveal themselves and my eyes travel through them searching for his name. nothing. he’d have texted me if something had requested his presence back at the office. although, he couldn’t have business to deal with on Christmas, right? not this soon, at least.
the pearly white snow greets me through the window making me stand up with a smile. how gorgeous. i make my way to the kitchen to grab something to drink while knotting my robe, and the shiny decor welcomes me effusively. i don’t realize at first, but a big and unfamiliar shadow catches my attention from the corner of my eye while i open the carton of juice.
“holy fuck. dym?”
our christmas tree, stunning as always, lays now almost drowned in presents. in fact, the stack is such, that i can’t even make out the floor for a good four-five steps. some light chuckles behind my back fill the room with the warmth i’ve been craving since i woke up. “beautiful, isn’t it?”
i turn around to dmitri sitting on the couch, staring at me with a huge grin. as if that number of gifts was the most normal sight in the world. “what the hell?” “you’ve had me waiting, darling. did you sleep good?” he asks affectionately.
“what are you, on your Santa Claus era?” i say looking at the presents again. he grants me that laugh that i adore so much as i try to give them a quick count, but after the twentieth, it starts to feel simply bonkers. they’re not even small ‘little treats’, oh no. there’s large boxes and bags everywhere.
“seriously, are you giving gifts to your whole fucking building? or is every one of your men getting one?”
“wrong. and. wrong” he says proudly, and once he’s in front of me, he just smiles. there are obvious love and joy in his eyes, which sends a cute fluttery feeling to my heart. “dmitri-“ his lips seal my words with a gentle kiss. “merry christmas, love”. a sparkle makes space on his gaze that could so easily compete with the star of the tree itself. wait. oh. oh. there’s no way.
his hands take mine and softly walk me towards the swimming pool of gifts. then, he sits close by and points at them with his head. “come on, darling. you’ve had me feeling all impatient”. he looks so excited. so cheerful. but i can’t help the slight guilt that takes over me. “dym, you’re crazy. tell me these are not only for me. you can’t- god do you even have an idea of how many there are?!” “40”. he doesn’t even take a single second to think about it. seriously, what the actual fuck? “two for every christmas i couldn’t spoil you in” this has to be a damn dream. “we’ve been friends since school!” i say grinning. “but we weren’t dating. so it doesn’t count. i wanted to make it special.” “you really didn’t have to” i refute. “i wanted to. please don’t make me wait anymore i need to see your reactions”. with a final glance, i turn around and grab the first one. “ohhh you’ll love that one!”
how can he be so cute? he wasn’t wrong, tho. it was a special edition of one of my favorite books. during the next hours, i go one by one, filling the room with gasps, yells, curses and many “oh my good”s and “thank you so much”s.
by the end of it, i’ve got clothes, books, headphones, plushies, a phone, jewelry, plane tickets, merchandising, signed stuff from famous people i love, and the cherry on top; a new car.
“you are mad. i love you so much but you’re mad” i say hugging him still shocked. “madly in love with you, you mean” he answers pulling back. “you liked them, then?” “loved them” he gives me another kiss, longer this time. “good. merry christmas, my love. i love you” he adds.
he can only hope i’ll love the ring just as much.
Tumblr media
187 notes · View notes
dixons-sunshine · 6 months ago
Text
A Healing Touch | Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
Tumblr media
Summary: Being sick was never fun. Steve hated being sick. However, having you to nurse him back to health was a bonus in his ill state.
Genre: Fluff.
Warnings: Swearing, sickness, coughing, fevers.
Word count: 1k
A/N: I had this idea this morning and had to write it. For some reason, I love writing sick fics with different characters lol. I’m currently working through requests, though, and will have one ready to be posted tomorrow!
Tumblr media
Steve groaned in pain as he turned over onto his back. His entire body ached all over, and his head was pounding like he had just bashed it against a wall. “Kill me now.”
Your soft laughter was like music to the Harrington boy’s ears. “I think you’re over exaggerating just a little bit, don’t you?”
“No,” Steve denied whilst shaking his head, instantly regretting it when it only accentuated the throbbing against his skull. “No, I’m serious. Please kill me. Put me out of my misery. I beg you.” A small smile spread across his face when your laughter filled the air once more. “What?”
“I think you should think about becoming an actor one day. Your drama was spot on.” You approached his bed and sat down on the edge, gingerly dabbing at his forehead with the wet cloth you had gotten from the bathroom. The sigh of pure relief he let out was enough to make you smile. “Good?”
“Very good,” he confirmed with a slight nod, shutting his eyes at the cooling feeling against his feverish head.
You gently laid the cloth to rest on his forehead, standing up again to grab the medicine you had collected from the bathroom cabinet—some Tylenol and ibuprofen, along with a glass of water. You would have to leave to go buy something for his scratchy throat later that day. At that moment, however, you would attempt to nurse him to the best of your abilities.
“Sit up for me, Stevie,” you instructed him in a soft tone of voice, walking back over to the bed and taking your spot on the edge.
With great effort, and a few overdramatic whines thrown in just to make you smile, Steve complied with your request. He pushed himself into a seated position, the washcloth falling from his forehead and onto his lap. However, he ignored it for the time being, instead wordlessly accepting the two pills from you, downing them both with the water you handed him.
Steve grimaced at the aftertaste of the medications. “Ugh,” he voiced, smacking his lips a few times in an attempt to rid himself of the taste. “That’s really gross.”
“Seriously?” you laughed and shook your head. “You can handle that nasty tasting cough syrup but this is gross to you?”
Steve let out a small gasp of mock offense, but he could not keep up the facade for long. He chuckled and shrugged nonchalantly. “What? It really doesn’t taste that bad.”
You brought your palm up to touch his forehead and nodded to yourself. “Yup. It’s definitely not just the fever. There’s just something wrong with you.”
Steve laughed and leaned his head back against the headboard, his laughter soon being replaced by a small coughing fit. He quickly leaned forward again and coughed into his elbow, his body wracking at the exertion.
All jokes instantly flew from your mind. You moved closer to him and gently began rubbing his back, hoping to alleviate some of the pain you knew he must have been feeling. Your heart ached for your boyfriend. He rarely got sick to this extent, but when he did, it always got bad. It broke your heart to see him like this.
When his coughing fit finally came to an end, Steve sighed shakily and leaned to rest his head on your shoulder. He closed his eyes at the feeling of your fingers slipping into his hair, savouring the way it brought comfort to him. He could have fallen asleep like that.
“So tell me, Doc,” Steve spoke up hoarsely. “What’s the verdict after that assessment? Am I gonna make it?”
You laughed lightly at his comment, appreciating the way he attempted to lighten the mood despite his current state. “I don’t know, Mr Harrington,” you began, choosing to play along with his joke. “This is a serious case. We might have to consider surgery.”
“Fuck,” he groaned playfully, wrapping his arms around you and tugging you closer to him, smiling at your soft giggles. “Are there any other options, Doctor? I have to admit that the thought of surgery is downright terrifyin’.” He pulled back slightly to peer at you, a goofy, lopsided smile on his face. “How well do alternative medicine work? I’ve been told that girlfriend kisses are amazin’ at healin’.”
“Hmm. I’m not too sure, but I guess it’s always worth a try, right?” You smiled and pressed a kiss against his warm forehead, before leaning back and looking at him again. “How do you feel?”
“So much better,” he joked, playfully pinching your side. He inhaled sharply and fought against the urge to start coughing again. “You have a healing touch. I told—I told y—”
Despite his best efforts, he lost the fight. Another fit wracked through his aching body. You once again gently rubbed Steve’s back, pressing one, two, three kisses against his bare shoulder. Thankfully they subsided quicker than the last ones had, and you were grateful for that.
“I think you should try to get some sleep,” you suggested, urging him to lie down by gently pushing against his chest.
Steve made zero protest. He lay down on his bed, his head falling against his pillow. “Sleep sounds great,” he admitted quietly.
You brushed his hair back with your fingers, before cupping his cheek in your hand. “Go to sleep, Steve. It’s okay.”
“What about you? What are you gonna do?” he questioned.
“I’m gonna run to the pharmacy real quick and go get something for your throat.” You pressed another kiss against his forehead, before pushing yourself up from the bed. “I’ll be back when you wake up.”
“You promise?”
His voice was so soft when he asked that. When you looked at him again, you could see the way he looked at you with silent adoration, love, and appreciation. You smiled at him and nodded.
“I promise. I’ll be back before you know it,” you said sincerely. “I love you, Stevie.”
The smile he sent your way gave you butterflies. “I love you more.”
296 notes · View notes
corvidae-00 · 1 year ago
Text
"Kiss me?"
Tumblr media
A/n: Halloooo!! this is my first time writing for Joost and i LITERALLY have so many ideas so PLEASE REQUEST FOR HIM?!?!? PLEASEEE Based on this song! give it a listen ;>
~: fem! Reader, Tooth rotting fluff-, maybe slight angst if you squint, mutual pinning, both parties completely oblivious, reader and Joost have been friends long before Eurovision, literally so in love with each other, Maybe a little self-indulging, literally just a music fic but YAY- Word count- 1,095
Tumblr media
Joost rubs his fingers against his lips softly using his elbow to somewhat hold up his head, his day dragging on, and the thoughts of going home and smoking a quick cigarette sounding splendid right now. He sighs and sets his hands flat against the cluttered table the sound of music and heavy bass pumping the walls and making things seem far away. His concert was next and all he could do was wait and hope it went smoothly- not that he expected any different he couldn't help but ponder, especially with how empty the backstage room was. he fiddles with his tank top and slowly runs his fingers down to play with his jeans squinting and making a face at all the loose threads from how worn and loved all of his clothes had eventually become.
"Joost?" A voice calls from the door the handle turning slightly and a head poking in- a bundle of hair and smiles were what he was least expecting "Gekke kikker?" He smiles a goofy smile where his lips curl up and the dimples around his cheeks make his smile that much more beautiful. He stands up quickly and strides over letting you slip fully inside and smile just as wide "Surprise!" You laugh opening your arms for a big hug from one of your most long-time friends "What are you doing here?- I thought you were busy?" Joost says pulling you into his chest tightly and muffling his words by dropping his face into your shoulder enjoying your presence, feeling his worries and stresses fade. the hard vibrations of the bass are not so nerve-wracking now. "How could I miss my best friend's performance right before he takes the stage at Eurovision!" You chuckle and rub his back the tanktop lifting and falling with each stroke, Joost can feel the goosebumps creep up his arms at the gentle gesture "Ah, well- I guess that is understandable Mijn lieveling" he sprinkles a little bit of his mother tongue into conversations and while you would love to know what he was saying you were yet to get lessons that the dutchman so intently insisted on giving you. Pulling away Joost can't help but smile again knowing you are here and ready to cheer him on- his biggest supporter through thick and thin- someone he always adored and went to for anything. someone he in a sense of the word- loved. Maybe he truly loved you and maybe a few times he had laid in his bed with a cigarette and had his eyes closed with ideas of him in nice clothes and you in a beautiful dress and watching the stars in a beautiful less populated area where the galaxy could be seen. Just maybe.
This hadn't been the first time you had popped up or shown up to support Yoost- and it wouldn't be the last- being his personal cheerleader through everything- YouTube- the beginning of his music- and even now was a job you took seriously. Knowing Joost you knew In the end it meant something or changed some kind of emotion and the smile that always graced his face was something you were more than happy to bend over backwards to see. After the concert you found yourself walking around the nearly empty streets of Amsterdam laughing and leaning into Joost after a joke he cracked where it may not even have been a joke- the look he gave you just proceeded to lead you to crack up more "what? is that not something to ponder je mafkees??' he shoves you playfully before cracking a few laughs himself "oh no no- your face just makes it all the more fun" you poke at him and shake your head a little as Joost smirks taking two wide steps and wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you up spinning you a few times "who has the funny face now?" He laughs at the surprise of the sudden assault on gravity "oh that's not fair!" You laugh trying to look back at him. Joost's eyes fall on yours, full of wonder and shine- 'has she thought about me at night like I have her? A future of this being normal-' he thinks to himself a small smile taking over his once loud features as he sets you down and shakes his head putting his hands into his oversized jacket an airy chuckle leaving him. Little did he know that every time he smiles- or laughs- or holds you like you mean the world butterflies erupt and you have to fight everything in you to kiss him, hold his cheeks in your hands, and run your thumbs over the apples of his cheekbones and be ever so gentle with him. something you have kicked your feet in bed about- you sat in front of your mirror wondering if that could ever be you.
Joost looks at you through his glasses the two of you standing a few steps apart both seemingly lost in each other's own thoughts- before Joost sighs and can feel his skin grow hot and he pulls a hand out to rub the back of his neck- "I- you-" he stumbles out and silently curses himself- an almost 30-year-old man can't even grasp his own emotions and You blink and smile a little stepping closer to him "You- Me?" you smile seconding his stutter and he looks over you his eyes landing on your lips that even in the dark only slightly lit up by a street light- seemed too soft to be real. He looks back at your eyes and reaches for your hand which you happily accept in the middle letting him pull you closer to him his other hand pulling out of his coat to wrap around your waist- "Kiss me..?" Joost whispers internally cringing- 'How straight forward- you clutz-' his thoughts are cut off by the feeling of you leaning in and softly pecking him on the lips- Joost leans forward to follow your lips as you go to pull away his eyes already having fluttered closed. You chuckle and lean back in kissing him gently and wrapping your arms around his shoulders leaning into the gentle embrace. Pulling away you and Joost lock eyes, cheeks flustered and smiles adorning each party's faces "Spend the night?" Joost looks to the side bashfully and you can't help but blush and nod "I guess that can be arranged" you tease leading both of you to laugh softly leaning in and resting your foreheads together.
Tumblr media
Dutch translator: Gekke kikker? - Crazy frog? Mijn lieveling - my darling je mafkees - you weirdo A/n: THANK YOU FOR READING- this was my first time ever writing Joost- so hopefully the more I write him the better it gets?? BUT PLEASE REQUEST FOR HIM!- I wanna write for him so bad- THANK YOU AGAIN!!! LOVE YOU ALL <3
458 notes · View notes
snakeredbirdbatkatana · 9 months ago
Text
Calling Dad it's something that Tim has witnessed from Dick and Damian to even Jason.
Backed into a corner scared slightly shitless and it's like an ingrained reaction. Something specific to being a Robin gun to your head and you just scream for Bruce.
Tim hasn't really ever had to do it.
When he was Robin especially after Jason, well say what you will about Bruce but he was never physically far away.
It was supposed to be a slow patrol all of them are out Dick working with Damian somewhere in the Diamond district. Jason in Crime Alley of course talking about a old lady who he helped cross the street. Bruce trying to get everyone to be quiet over the line.
Yet Ninja's are not apart of basic patrol unless your Red Robin. The first five go down quick none of his family is even aware, his breathing hasn't changed. Next seven slightly harder but nothing crazy.
Until he sees Ra's standing at the top of the old factory. He almost paused flashes of Paris, Wayne Enterprises, and the desert practically blind him. He didn't see the blade until it was too late cutting straight into his side.
Twenty more assassins begin to make there way. He doesn't hesitate.
"Dad, fuck...." he can't stop a slight hiss of pain as another cut ends up on his arm.
It explodes.
"Tim what's happening?"
"Red Robin Report."
"Replacement you better not be dying"
"Drake what is your situation?"
Ra's is making his way closer and although it isn't his typical move he starts running.
"Dad, uhm how do I put this I need like so much backup it's really not funny."
Where was Bruce he was about two blocks away if he doesn't turn around he can most likely ignore the swarm of Ninja that is running after him.
"Don't worry I'm bringing the problem too you but if everyone could convene at Bruce's location it would really be appreciated." 
"Red what's going on?"
Seriously? We're gonna need a bit more?"
"Drake if your are dying do inform us."
"Red Robin Report. Now!"
Apperently running for your life really takes a lot out of you he has to be max two minutes away he hopes at least. They are hot on his heels and don't look like they are slowing down."
"Lots of ninjas, also creepy Assassin Lord's who want to have my babies the usual, also I am slightly bleeding. So really I oh my god thank fuck I see you."
Tim's savior at long last a Batman grappling to the ground ten feet away he books it pushing past the woozy bloodloss and the slightly poison feeling because there is always poison he runs to Bruce and without a any real coherence dives behind him shouting.
"Dad thank fuck."
Now behind Bruce he sits down which usually isn't what you do when Ra's wants your bacon but it was either sit and pass out or stand so he is sitting.
Batman can handle it he thinks before his eyes start close ehh the grounds a good place for a nap.
375 notes · View notes
lunicho · 2 years ago
Text
Tumblr media
wandering thoughts - han taesan
- synopsis: taesan can't help but get distracted while on holiday with your family. all he wants is to be under your gaze. (2.1k words)
- warnings: subby taesan, gn reader, brief nipple play, y/n and taesan almost get caught, handjob, reader calls taesan kitty like twice (lmk if i missed anything)
a/n: first fic omgg, i'm rlly rusty with writing so pls be nice 💔. i don't normally call taesan by his real name but my mind works weird so i have to write fics with his real name idk why, anyways hope you enjoy!!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“dongmin you have to let go!” your voice was muffled because your boyfriend had his arm around you, pushing your face into him. he'd been holding you in place for so long, not wanting to be left behind. “i need to shower!!” after a little bit of a struggle, you somehow managed to twist out of his grasp. 
your eyes were squinted as you adjusted to being in the light again, but you moved to your drawer to grab your clothes. “i'll just go with you then.” he sat up as well, moving himself to the end of your bed. 
Tumblr media
“no, you already know that you can't. i won't be that long, you big baby.” you laughed when you saw his expression, a slight pout placed on his lips. he continued to watch your every move, eyes following you as you moved around your room. 
you turned your body towards him, a deadpan expression coming across your face. “baby, seriously im not gonna disappear the second your eyes leave me, relax.” dongmin threw his body back on the bed, sighing at how badly he wanted your attention. 
“i'll be back, i promise.” you grabbed the remote from behind him, placing a kiss on his pouty lips simultaneously, “find a movie or something while im gone.” you dropped the remote in his lap, quickly leaving the room before he could protest any further. 
this was the first time dongmin was visiting with your family for an extended period of time. you've brought him to get togethers and other family events but he's never stayed at your parents house or any of your family's house for that matter. the day was awesome, everyone was getting along well and you had a lot of fun, especially since you hadn't been to your parents house in a little while. he hated that his mind strayed like it did all day, the only thing he was able to focus on was you. 
his mind wandered again as he tried to pick a movie, all he could think about was you in the shower. how the water would run down your body, the way your sweet scented shower gel would lather on your chest, and how you'd stand wordlessly in the warmth, enjoying the way the water heated up your joints. he bit his lip at the thought, trying to snap himself out of it by scrolling through more movies. he could feel himself getting hard already, just the thought of your naked body could drive him to insanity. dongmin eventually landed on one, sighing as his pants suddenly felt way too tight. 
he got up to change into pajamas, hurriedly removing his pants. he palmed himself over his underwear once his jeans were off, eyebrows furrowed with frustration. a small pool of precum leaked through his black boxers, the sight making him harder. he thought about quickly getting himself off but ultimately decided against it, not wanting to disobey you. 
you caught his attention a little bit later by opening your bedroom door, entering the room in your cozy pajamas. you threw your dirty clothes into the basket by the door, smiling at your boyfriend lovingly, “do you wanna go take a shower?” you grabbed your lotion and sat on the bed, rubbing down your arms and legs. dongmin shook his head, “no, i took one right before i came.” he lifted the blanket off of himself a little to show that he had already changed into pajamas. 
you nodded and turned your back to dongmin, looking at the tv, “ooh you picked a good movie, you can start it.” he pressed play, the tv faintly playing sound. you normally keep the volume fairly since you usually watch tv late into the night. 
you could hear dongmin moving around behind you, the way the bed slightly shook also giving it away. the bed dipped below you a bit when he got closer, you could almost feel heat radiating off of him. his hands rested on your shoulders and he brought his face down to yours, placing kisses on your face and shoulders. he briefly smelled the nape of your neck, the freshly sprayed perfume and body oil made a heavenly mixture on your skin. you tilted your head, allowing him more access, “seriously what has gotten into you today?” you put the lotion down with a smile on your face, moving onto the bed and cuddling into your boyfriend. 
“don't know, just love you.” you now had your back to the tv, the two of you facing each other as you cuddled up. “well, love me from over there.” you said jokingly, trying to move out of his grasp again, hands pushing him away. you both laughed but dongmin's grasp on you remained firm. he lowered you onto your back, placing his lips on yours. a quiet whimper fell from his lips, showing how desperate he was for your touch. 
“you know,” you pulled away from the kiss, sitting up on your elbow, your free hand moving down his torso, “you could just tell me when you're needy like this..” you brush your hand along his hardened length, confirming your suspicions. 
he sucked in a breath, reacting to the way you grasped him gently, fingers gripping the bed sheets. his big eyes gazed into yours, his lip caught between his teeth. he breathed out a whimper when your hand moved away from him. “keep quiet, don't want my family hearing you..” 
you sat up on your knees, the long forgotten movie still playing behind you two. you moved the blanket down his body, allowing yourself to fully see. “why should i help you right now? maybe i should just leave you like this as a punishment for being so dirty.” you were only teasing but the desperate head shaking that came from the boy below you made you smile. 
“please.. i need you so bad..” his volume was low, desperation leaking from every word. he ran his hand through his hair, his thighs pressing together slightly. 
“i can't believe you right now..” you genuinely were a little shocked, dongmin isn't usually the type that's not able to control himself but he'd just been extra needy today. he'd been keeping a hushed but flirty tone with you all day, leaning down to your ear each time. when you'd be alone with him he'd kiss you quickly, pressing his lips against you as much as he could. 
“please y/n..” he shut his eyes tight, a slight wave of embarrassment washing over him. he brought his hands up to his face, slightly covering it. he's always so shy during sex but he was so so cute. 
“aww it's okay baby, i'm sorry for teasing you so much.” with one hand you pulled his hands away from his face, your thumb brushing over his bottom lip. he pushed his lips against the pad of your finger, his lips parting slightly. with your other hand you gently palmed him over his pants. your voice was hushed as you spoke, not wanting anyone to hear, “gonna take care of you okay?” he nodded, eyes desperate. 
you pulled the tied drawstring of his pajama pants, quietly asking him to pull them down. you ran a finger up the length of his shaft, watching as he shivered under you. his precum made his tip slick as you thumbed his throbbing slit. 
you reached for the lotion you used earlier, squeezing some into your hand, finally slowly pumping his length. small needy noises spilled from the boys lips. you caressed his cheek gently, heart melting when he unconsciously leaned into your touch, just like a little kitten. “you've gotta keep quiet kitty.” with that you swiftly stuck two fingers into his mouth and he immediately started sucking on them. 
he breathed out heavily, one of his hands holding onto your arm as a way to brace himself. you adored this boy, continuing to pump his length at a steady pace. 
dongmin couldn't sit still, his thighs tensed and released repeatedly as a tight ball for formed in his stomach. his hips rolled in small circles, eyes staring up at you once again. he moaned around your fingers, one of his hands moving to go around your waist. 
you couldn't help but whisper, “such a pretty kitty..” your voice sounding slightly awestruck. times like this just swole your heart up, filling you with warmth. you pulled your fingers out of his mouth, moving your hand under his shirt to toy with his nipples. 
his nipples weren't that sensitive but they still got him reacting a bit. they hardened as soon as you touched them, hands brushing across them playfully. 
you focused your hand on the tip of his cock, repeatedly brushing over it. his hips slightly stuttered, pushing away from your grasp out of sensitivity. this got his orgasm building up even faster than before. 
he was so close to finishing, so so close but there was a knock at your door. dongmin's hips stilled, a mortified expression crossing his face. “y/n?” your hand slowed down on his length, his body tense in your grasp. you continued to play with the head of his cock as you answered, knowing your mom wouldn't open the door, “yes mom?” dongmin accidentally whimpered at the feeling of your hand slightly tightening on his length, his noise almost being too loud.
without second thought you slapped a hand over his mouth. he breathed out heavily from his nose, the air blowing against the back if your hand. the adrenaline of the situation caused his cock to twitch. he shut his eyes tightly, suddenly getting the urge to fuck your fist and make himself cum. 
“are you guys hungry? do you want a snack or anything?” you nodded although she couldn't see you through the door, “yeah, thanks, we'll be out in a second, we're finishing up part of this movie.” she responded to you after that, the sound of her footsteps getting farther from your door. 
you waited to be sure she was gone before speaking, leaning closer to the boy, “oh you liked that, hm? almost getting caught made your cock harder didn't it? so dirty..”
you uncovered his mouth and watched his mouth move as if he was going to say something, but nothing came out. “next time we're at your place i'm gonna fuck you up for this, you know that right? gonna ride you until you're begging me to let you cum.” he nods eagerly at this with furrowed eyebrows, desperate to cum now. 
the way you're talking is enough to get him going even more. his hips moved on their own causing you to stop your movements on his cock. he fucked himself into your fist, head thrown back and mouth falling open. 
several moans come from him, your fingers returning to his mouth. his moans are muffled but still quite audible as he gets himself off in your fist. 
ropes of cum eventually shoot from his cock, landing on his stomach. you begin stroking him through his orgasm, his hips stuttering once again. he breathes heavily, pressing his lips shut against your fingers as he comes down from his high. he keeps his eyes closed as his chest rises and falls, his hips jolting every once in a while. 
you pull your fingers out of his mouth once again, leaning down to kiss his slightly sweaty forehead. you brush his hair out of his face, kissing down to his cheek, “you okay my love?” to that he nods, finally opening his eyes and smiling shyly. 
“thank you y/n.” he was feeling slightly embarrassed again as he sat up on his elbows looking at his stomach. he was covered in his own cum, unable to move from his spot. he shook his head before looking to you for help, hands returning to his hair to fluff it up, a habit he has. you turned to him and nodded with a smile as you looked for something to clean him up with. 
you grabbed a towel out of your laundry basket, wiping your hands before taking it over to dongmin. you helped him clean himself up, returning the towel to the basket shortly after. you stood by the door, watching the boy on your bed. 
“hurry honey, i wanna get some snacks.” he smiled at you as he pulled his pants back up, tying the knot once again. his heart was still pumping quickly as he exited the room, the adrenaline of the situation still with him. 
Tumblr media
685 notes · View notes
k1tty-me0w · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing | haechan x camgirl!reader
warnings | masturbation, stalking, chloroform, kidnapping, noncon, slightly religious themes, slight smut
sum | seeing you through a computer screen wasn’t enough for him..he needed you in the flesh
Tumblr media
haechan whined as he thrusted up into his fist. if it was really you he would’ve came bye now. But it wasn’t you, wasn’t the tight cunt you flaunted for hundreds on screen. He hated that other people got to see you this way, sprawled out on your soft sheets with a toy shoved between your legs.
it was ridiculous, he could do so much better. Hell, you were made for him. God told him so. Crafted just for his pleasure, just for his eyes, only his. Haechan felt himself finally climax onto his hand…what a waste, to cum on or in anything that wasn’t you. You ended the live. Fuck. He didn’t get to say goodbye, or that he loved you. He forgot. “Fuck!” he yelped, standing so abruptly it shook his desk. That was his final straw.
yes, haechan knew where you lived. It wasn’t too hard to find, using your camgirl account and all. A small, off campus, apartment. Cute. The fake package he held in his hand was laughable. Quite literally an Amazon box thrown back together with tape and hot glue. delivery guy, that’s what he was, the friendly ol’ delivery guy. Third floor. End of the hall.
His palms were sweating. Bad. He could see it on the flimsy cardboard. He was seriously going to touch you. Fuck you. Keep you. All in due time. honestly, even with the excitement haechan found himself nervous when he made it to your welcome mat. Welcome. That was nice, it made him feel a lot better. His hand shook as he knocked on the door. what if you didn’t even answer the door?
god must’ve listened to his thoughts, the door opening slowly. he felt his heart pounding. “Hello,” you muttered softly. Delivery guys didn’t usually knock. You didn’t order anything recently. Weird. “well..this is yours,” haechan awkwardly shifted on his feet before holding out the package. You let out a small ‘thank you’ before moving to take it. He would miss the opportunity if he didn’t act now..should he? No. Yes? Fine. Haechan shoved his way in, slamming the door with a pathetic sorry.
You yelped, stumbling back until the back of your thigh hit the corner of your coffee table. “I have to do this. It’s my duty. You need me. I need you,” haechan rambled to himself as he set the box down and focused back on you. You were even prettier in person, his jeans were the tightest they’d ever been. One more push and you were draped onto the couch. Hands holding a cloth to your face for a few moments till you were passed out. Haechan sighed, wiping sweat from his forehead. He wished you wouldn’t have pleaded so much, he almost felt bad. but this was important, he had to do this.
he stripped you of your clothes, putting them in a hamper for you. It was the nice thing to do. He could hardly contain himself, the sight before him. It was real, so real, he felt his underwear go damp just from looking at you. He stripped himself of his own pants, there was no time for prep or foreplay. He’d do that another day though, love you harder than you’d ever been loved before. Right now, he had to fuck you harder. So pretty and unconscious, yet you sucked him in with such a purpose. “My angel. Oh my…fuck..I love you. I love you. I love you,”
haechan’s moans, whines, and pussy-drunk rambling filled your small apartment. constellations of hickeys covered your body. his hands were bruised into your hips in addition. He had to have reached his peak five times. When your eyes would flutter open a bit, he’d have to shush you and put the cloth back. Again, all in due time before he could show you real love. Haechan landed a soft kiss on your forehead before pulling out, to his despair. “You’re coming home, angel. Where you belong,” he whispered softly.
tying her up was quick work. He packed all her favorite things, then scooped her up in his arms. Time to go home. A lovely mattress in his attic, sheets your favorite color and rope to match.
Tumblr media
83 notes · View notes
frudoo · 4 months ago
Note
Hi. *shyly steps in*
How are you? I do hope u're doing fine. Idk if this ask fits ur rules, but i've been thinking about it since a while ago.
So, i had been ill with tuberculosis and pneumonia a few years ago, i recovered but i ended up with some issues on breathing. Nothing much but sometimes it's harsh when i run or climb up the stairs.
Plus with that, my feet also sucks, it hurts to the point i can't barely walk without feeling a sharp pain, much needle like. (skipping all the medical blah blah blah)
So, if you feel okay with it, could you write about a civilian!reader with the same stuff as me? Maybe with the 141 and some more, idk, feel free about it! (pls include simon he's my sweetheart)
So... that's it! I hope you have a nice week, take care! *shyly steps out of scene*
This is such a sweet concept; I hope you enjoy what I've written!!
Warnings: Slight mentions of chronic pain, more implied than detailed. Light smut. Fem!reader. MDNI.
Kyle Garrick:
     Your pace is slower than normal, even considering the usual differences in walking speed the both of you are used to. Biting the inside of his cheek, Kyle turns around to find your face contorted in pain. He frowns, holding onto your biceps to keep you in place.
     “S’it hurtin’, dove?” He asks sympathetically, honeyed brown eyes searching yours.
     “I’m fine, let’s just keep going,” you murmur, brushing him off and taking a few more steps forward.
     Kyle sighs at your stubborn insistence, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you aside. His back lands against the brick wall of one of the shops at the boardwalk, and he turns you in his grasp so that you’re forced to face him. He cocks an eyebrow, pressing his forehead to yours.
     “Why d’ya do this t’yaself?” Your fiance squeezes your sides fondly. “We’re done, yeah?”
     “Kyle, you need new clothes,” you pout, trying to pull away from him to no avail.
     “I’ll find summat online. Righ’ now, I’m takin’ ya home. Need t’rest ya feet.” 
     Ignoring your protests, he waves over a cab and gently pushes you into the backseat. He smiles apologetically when he follows suit, grabbing your hand as he gives the driver your address. 
     “I’m seriously fine,” you grumble, but when you look over, Kyle isn’t paying attention—his eyes are glued to his phone while he orders your favorite takeout.
     He seems to sense your displeasure because he slips his phone into his pocket and leans in to kiss you softly. Can’t complain if your mouth is occupied by another loving pair of lips, can you?
     Simon Riley:
     Your husband is buzzing with excitement, anxiously tapping his foot as he waits for the popcorn to finish in the microwave. The two of you have been planning this movie night for weeks and the day has finally come. His ears perk up when he hears you at the top of the stairs, but his grin drops when he hears your labored breathing. He opens the door of the microwave to stop the cooking process before walking over to you. You’re halfway descended, but your chest is heaving and you’re gripping the railing a bit too tight for comfort.
     “Back upstairs,” Simon commands bluntly, startling you. 
     “I’ve almost got it,” you try to reassure him, but he’s having none of it, meeting you where you stand and tossing you over his shoulder.
     “Simon!” You yelp, smacking his back with no real malice while he carries you right back up the stairs and into your shared bedroom. 
     Your hulking lover lays you down gently before propping you up by placing some pillows behind your back. He kneels beside the bed where you lay, grabbing your wrist and opening your hand to expose your palm to him. He begins to trace a square on your skin, looking up at you expectantly. 
     “Breathe,” he instructs, demonstrating what he wants you to do—deep breath in on one line, out on the other—smiling softly when you join him.
     After a few cycles, your lungs finally seem to fill up with enough air. Simon still doesn’t let you get up, carefully pushing you back down when you try. 
     “But you already got everything set up downstairs,” you pout, lifting your head to meet his lips when he leans in to kiss your forehead.
     He hums in amusement against your mouth, cupping your face in his big hands and smoothing his thumbs over your cheekbones.
     “More comfy ‘ere in bed w’ya anyway, baby.”
     John Price:
     A long sigh escapes John as he unlocks the door to your home. It’s been a long deployment, and all he’s thought about since the helo landed on home base is you in his arms. As he shuts the door behind him and unlaces his work boots, he’s met with the warm smell of a proper roast. After shrugging off his uniform coat, he slowly makes his way into the kitchen where you’re pulling the fresh meal out of the oven. He waits until you’ve carefully set it down before he gently places his hands on your hips and leans in to trail a line of kisses down your neck.
     “John!” You exclaim happily, quickly turning around and throwing yourself into his arms.
     He chuckles, holding you tightly as he presses his cheek to the top of your head. 
     “Missed you so much, darlin’ girl,” your husband hums, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger to make you look up at him.
     Your eyelids flutter shut as he leans in to kiss you deep and slow. His hands travel down to rest on your waist as your arms wrap around his neck. Carefully, he guides you backward toward the counter but stills when you wince in pain. John pulls away, thick brow furrowed in concern.
     “You've been on your feet all day?” He questions, bright blue eyes softening as they stare down at you—your silence tells him all he needs to know. 
     “Go have a seat, darlin’. I’ll dish up dinner,” he concludes, helping you over to the dining room table and pulling out a cushioned chair for you.
     John helps you prop your feet up onto the chair opposite of you, making sure you’re settled in before doing as he promised and plating the roast and vegetables you’d spent all day making. He places your dinner before you with a swift kiss to your hair before joining you with his own food. The pain is easily forgotten when your lover is home, his fingertips tracing circles on your thigh as you share this meal in silence.
     Johnny MacTavish:
     “Doin’ sae perfect fer me, hen,” Johnny praises with a low groan, large hands pawing at the fat of your thighs. 
     Sweat drips from his pores down his flushed face, cerulean eyes staring up at you in awe through dark lashes. He meets every roll of your hips with delirious enthusiasm, entranced by the feeling of your soft body atop his, the heat of you that surrounds him completely. As far as he’s concerned, you’re an angel sent just for him.
     Johnny knows your cues, though, more attuned to your body than his own. The second you falter in your pace, mouth falling open as you try to catch your breath, he stops you instantly. When you try to keep going, he pulls out and flips you onto your back, pinning you to the bed.
     “No’ gonna star’ again ‘til ye catch yer breath, lass,” Johnny says firmly, kissing the tip of your nose. 
     “Johnny, please,” you whine, rocking your hips up to try and entice him. “I’m fine!”
     “Better star’ breathin’. Ah’d hate tae leave ye ‘igh an’ dry,” your lover teases, trailing kisses down your neck and collarbone until he reaches your chest.
     You sigh petulantly but comply anyway, sucking in a shaky inhale of air and blowing it out slowly. Johnny gives you a kiss right above your heart between every breath, kissing his way up the column of your throat and locking lips with you once your breathing has evened out and your chest no longer aches. You gasp when he slides back home and his fingers grip your jaw loosely. 
     “See wha’ ‘appens when ye listen?” He questions playfully, slowly building up a comfortable pace once more.
123 notes · View notes
nahoney22 · 11 months ago
Note
Heeey it's me again ! 😁
I would like to make a request with both of the NSFW prompts :
16: “Bite me.” / “If you insist.”
23: “You look like you would beg me to spank you.”
These two with Mayday x female reader , please ❤️
Thanks again ❤️
Reflections***🌊
🫧 Pairings: Mayday X Female!Reader
word count: 3.4k
prompts:
• “Bite me.” / “If you insist.”
• “You look like you would beg me to spank you.”
Tumblr media
Finally free from the bone-chilling snow planet of Barton IV, yourself and the squad find yourselves on Coruscant at 79’s. As leading medic, you knew you were in for a messy night, you just didn’t think it would be with Commander Mayday - someone who you never saw eye to eye with. Until right now.
warnings: NSFW, 18+ only, explicit sexual content and language, semi public sex, p in v sex, cunnilingus, minor enemies to lovers, little bit of bickering, kissing, mirror sex, spanking, light!dom Mayday, minor alcohol consumption, dirty talk, praise kink, heavy flirting, slight self insecurities, medic afab reader, not proofread.
A/N: @griffedeloup hope you enjoy bestie 🫧 🩵 not overly happy with how I’ve written him but I’ve only written for him once before so did my best!
Tumblr media
The moment the transmission came through, you could have cried. In fact, you did—along with everyone else. Relief washed over you like a wave, knowing that your time on the ice-locked hellscape of Barton IV had finally come to an end. It was over. You were free. Well, for a few months atleast.
Stepping onto the warm, bustling streets of Coruscant, you felt like you were rediscovering life itself. The city was both familiar and foreign—streets you had once known, now slightly altered by time.
You wandered through the maze of towering buildings, letting your senses drink in the sights and sounds. The fragrant aromas from the street vendors pulled you in, reminding you just how much you had missed the simple pleasure of a good meal, the rich scent of spices, the sweetness of fruits and the sizzling of meats. It felt like waking up from a long, cold slumber.
“How does it feel to be back?” a voice interrupted your thoughts, causing you to jump slightly. You turned to find Commander Mayday standing there, an amused smirk playing on his lips. Even here, on a planet as vast as Coruscant, you couldn’t seem to escape him.
You and Mayday had always clashed. The tension between you two was tense, thickening the air whenever you were in the same room. It was as cold as the icicles that had hung from the ceilings of the cold barracks. He had his way of doing things, and you had yours—conflicting perspectives that often led to bickering and stares sharp enough to cut through ice. As the team's medic, you believed your opinions on the squad’s welfare should carry more weight, but Mayday? He wasn’t so easily convinced.
“Better than being stuck with you lot for eight months,” you replied, resuming your walk through the marketplace. Mayday fell into step beside you, clearly not ready to let you off the hook just yet.
“Come on, you’re telling me you didn’t enjoy a single moment of our time together? I don’t buy it,” he teased, his smirk widening as he caught your eye. You answered with an exaggerated roll of your eyes, but as much as you claim to dislike him, the corners of your mouth threatened to curve upward.
Just as you were about to make your escape, he casually mentioned, “The others and I are heading to 79’s tonight. You should join us.”
The idea of spending more time in Mayday’s company was far from appealing. “I’ll pass,” you said, waving off the invitation. You weren’t in the mood for more of his antics.
“We’ll see about that.” Is all he says before he gives you a small nod and makes his way through the crowd and out of sight.
You sigh and try not to take his words seriously. He drove you crazy.
But why was it that later that evening, as you sat alone in your quarters, boredom creeped in. The silence felt heavy, and you were not used to being on your own. Despite your earlier resolve, you found yourself getting dressed and hailing a cab to 79’s. After all, you needed to have some fun.
When you arrived, the noise and energy of the place hit you like a wall. For a moment, you felt out of place, uncertain if you should even be there. This type of scene was not you, always preferring a more quiet environment. But the familiar faces of your fellow clones soon found you, their warm welcomes and offers to buy you drinks easing your discomfort. You even caught the attention of a few patrons, some of whom attempted to strike up conversation. It was unexpected - flattering, even.
You were engaged in a lighthearted chat with a particularly handsome man who had bought you a drink when you felt eyes on you. Glancing across the room as the gentleman spoke about his work, you locked eyes with Mayday.
Eyes you suddenly found enticing, he was watching you intently. Gaze unreadable but intense. Your fingertips began to tingle and you found yourself quickly downing your drink as the Commanders eyes started to send a strange sensation curling through your stomach. Why was he looking at you like that?
As your conversation with the stranger wound down, Mayday made his way over to you. “Enjoying yourself?” he asked, his voice laced with something you couldn’t quite place as the man moves on.
“Why? Are you keeping tabs on me now?” you shot back, half-joking, half-serious. You felt nervous all of a sudden and maybe it was because you had never dressed like the way you had in front of him before.
He chuckled, leaning in a little closer. “Seems like you have caught a few eyes around here. Yet you seem so unsure about yourself… so shy.”
You swallow hard and look away, smoothing out your dress. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you don’t,” he comments, leaning on the side of the bar as he swirls the ice around in his drink, “you love the attention.”
“I do not!” You spat, eyes wide at his insinuation. You begin to storm off but Mayday is quick to follow, stopping in front of you with his hands up in defence.
“Come on, I’m only kidding.”
You had almost bumped into him but luckily he had gently grabbed your hips to halt you. The touch was overwhelmingly powerful that you felt your whole body still as you met his eyes.
Okay, okay. You will not deny it- he was handsome. Irritating, but handsome. The strobes lights dance across his features, his scruffy yet charming features just inches away from your face. You hadn’t realised how close he was until his breath, tinged with a dark liquor and mintiness, hits you.
His hands drop from your hips and he raises an amused brow at you. “Staring, are we?”
You blink quickly, slightly mortified that you didn’t notice your doe-eyed expression stuck on him.
“Bite me,” you retorted, turning away in an attempt to hide the blush that started creeping up your neck and to find a place to hide.
Suddenly, you froze. Feeling the gentle brush of his hand against your arm, warm and tender. “If you insist,” he replied smoothly, his voice low and flirtatious.
“Are-are you flirting with me?” You ask quietly but just loud enough over the thumping bass of music.
Mayday smiles this time, not a smirk, a genuine smile. “And if I was?”
You blink at him. “I’d ask you what you’ve been drinking.”
He chuckles, low and hearty. “Shall we go somewhere quieter to talk?”
Without another word, Mayday’s hand slid to the small of your back, guiding you away from the crowded bar and towards a quieter, more secluded area. You followed him, your heart pounding in your chest, anticipation and curiosity swirling within you.
You both slid into a secluded booth tucked away in a dimly lit corner of the bar. As you slid into the seat, the initial excitement you’d felt started to shift into something else—nerves. The silence between you both was thick, and you couldn’t help but fidget with the hem of your outfit, suddenly hyper-aware of how you looked.
Mayday noticed, his sharp eyes never missing a detail. He leaned in closer, his voice softening. “You seem nervous. Is it me?” He chuckled lightly, but there was genuine concern in his tone.
“No, it’s just…” you trailed off, struggling to find the right words. “I don’t get it. Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?”
His expression softened. “Do you think I’ve been horrible to you?”
“Well no but you just disagree with everything I say! And I feel like I’m always having to put you in your place.” Annoyance crosses your features this time as you think back to all the times the two of you butted heads.
“What can I say? Maybe I like a woman who can put me in my place.” Again, your stomach swirls with an unspoken and foreign feeling. He slides an inch closer to you, his scent subtle but makes you inhale silently.
“Commander- I…”
“Just Mayday is fine.” He reached out, gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered there, warm against your skin. “Maybe I’ve been too hard on you before,” he admitted. “And I’m sorry.”
You’re at a loss for words, taken aback. Again, you shift and tug idly on your clothes but his hand moves over the top of yours. “Stop.” His tone is soft, “You look stunning.”
Your eyes flutter close, completely transported into a different realm. 79’s no longer exists, Barton IV never existed, just this moment between you both. “I’m not.”
“Shh, shh, shh…” He hushes you, his large hands taking your face into his hands. “You are to me… my pretty lil medic.”
Breath warm against your lips, you meet his gaze one last time before his lips meet yours in a kiss that was surprisingly tender. It started slow, a gentle exploration, but quickly grew more passionate as the tension between you finally broke. His hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you deeper into the kiss with his tongue lapping over yours while you melted against him.
All sense of time seemed to blur, and before you knew it, he was pulling you from the booth. He led you with purpose, threading through the crowd until you reached the door to one of the bathrooms. With a swift motion, he pushed it open and pulled you inside, locking the door behind him.
The bathroom was small, the walls close to another but thankfully clean and free of any other visitors.
“Come ‘ere.” Mayday wasted no time, his hands gripping your hips as he backed you against the cool tile wall. His mouth found yours again, hungrier this time, his kiss demanding and consuming. You moaned his name into his mouth, the sound muffled by his lips as he pressed his body firmly against yours, the hard planes of his chest meeting your softer body.
He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes bright with adoration. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice rough as his hands roamed over your body. “I need you to know that.”
“Say that again,” you instantly purr, the praise practically making you come to life.
“Oh, you like that huh?” He pulls away from your lips, moving to assault your lips with incredible kisses and light nipping, “You like being praised?”
“Y-yeah,” you gasp, tilting your head to give him some more room. Your fingers tangled in his hair as you kissed him again once his line of kisses moved up your jaw and to your lips.
The Commander moved with purpose, spinning you around so you faced the mirror. As you met your own reflection, for a moment, you barely recognised the person staring back at—hair disheveled and skin flushed, lips swollen and eyes dark with arousal.
“Look at yourself,” Mayday ordered with a soft tone, his voice a rumble in your ear as he stood behind you. His hands slid under your attire, caressing your skin, and you shuddered at the sensation “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. His hands moved lower, sliding down your sides, and you felt a rush of heat form in your core as his touch set your skin alight. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”
His words sent a thrill through you, and you felt your knees weaken as his mouth continued its path along your neck. He met your eyes in the mirror, his gaze intense, before he slowly dropped to his knees behind you.
Your breath hitched as his hands slid up your thighs, parting your legs slightly after he exposed your lower half. Your gaze dropped to him in the mirror but he shook his head at you, almost disapprovingly. “Don’t look away,” he instructed, his voice dark and commanding. “I want you to watch yourself.”
Your pulse raced as his fingers hooked into the waistband of your pants, slowly pulling them down. The cool air of the refresher hit your exposed skin, sending a shiver up your spine, but it was nothing compared to the heat of his tongue on your sex.
There was not a willpower in your body that could stop the moan that slipped out your lips. The intensity of the sensation was overwhelming, every nerve ending alive with pleasure as he licked and sucked at your most sensitive spot.
“Keep watching,” he murmured against you, his voice vibrating through you as his hands tightened on your thighs, holding you in place. “I want you to see how beautiful you look when you come.”
His words, combined with the skill of his tongue that pushes between your folds, followed by the suction of his lips on your clit pushed you to the brink. “M-Mayday, please!”
Your hands gripped the edge of the sink as you watched yourself in the mirror, your body trembling with the force of your arousal. The sight of him between your legs, the feel of his mouth on you, the sound of his praises—all of it together to send you spiraling towards your climax.
When it finally hit, it was like nothing you had ever experienced. Your vision blurred as your body convulsed with pleasure, Mayday’s name escaping your lips in a breathless cry. Even as you came, he didn’t stop, continuing his relentless assault with his tongue until you were a trembling mess, barely able to stand.
Finally, he pulled back, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh before rising to his feet. His hands gently turned you around to face him, and he kissed you again, slow and tender, as if to remind you that this wasn’t just about lust.
As you stood there, breathing heavily, Mayday’s hands cupped your face, his thumbs gently brushing your cheeks. “Such a good girl. Did you see how beautiful you were?”
A lazy laugh escapes your throat and you lean against the sink to stop your knees from buckling beneath you. “I never thought this would happen.”.
“Enjoying it?”
“Loving it.” You confirm, moaning against his mouth as your now nude body is flushed to his, the worry of anyone even coming in leaving your mind.
As Mayday continued to kiss you softly, each kiss completely put you in a trance until you couldn’t hold back anymore. The ache between your thighs was back, unbearable, a pulse of desire that demanded more satisfaction.
“Please, Mayday,” you whispered, your voice trembling with desperation. “I need you to fuck me. I need you inside me.”
He froze for a moment, his eyes searching yours for confirmation. The hunger in his gaze intensified, his breath hitching as your words sank in. “Turn around then my beauty.” Doing as he asks, you spun around to face the mirror once again. He manhandles you in a way that has you moaning under each touch, tough but also tender as he positions you just as he wanted.
Pressing your hands against the mirror for support, your breath fogs the glass as you lean forward, offering yourself to him. You felt him behind you, his hands running down your body in a teasing manner before gripping your hips with a possessive force that made you gasp, followed by a smirk.
“I’m going to make you feel so good.” A low hum escaped his throat as he aligned himself with you, the head of his cock pressing against your soaked and throbbing entrance. He paused for a moment, his tip brushing over your slick folds, teasing you just a little longer. “Is this what you want?” he asked, his voice possessive and full of command.
“Yes,” you breathed, your voice barely audible as you pressed back against him, needing to feel him inside you. “I need you, Mayday.”
And that was all the encouragement he needed. With a slow thrust, he buried himself inside you, stretching and filling you completely. “O-Oh, that’s..”
“Good, baby? Does my cock feel good inside you? Fuck, I’ve been imagining how you feel for so long; my beautiful medic.” The sensation of him so deep, so overwhelming, left you breathless and unable to answer. Your fingers ache as you dig into the mirror as you try to steady yourself but your body shudders with intensity.
Mayday set a gentle pace from the start, his hips a mesmerising roll as he moves into you before his pace starts to quicken. The sound of skin against skin filled the small bathroom, mingling with your moans and his guttural groans. Satisfied with the pace he had set, you begin to feel his hand slide up your back, until he reaches around to your chest.
You bite onto your lip, a moaning mess as both of his hands immediately move to cup them, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh as he continues to pound into you. “Yes, yes! Don’t stop, don’t stop!” You cry, the sensation of his hands on your tits and large cock pulsing in and out of you indescribable. Thankfully for the music of the club, you didn’t have to worry about anyone hearing you because you were on the edge of screaming his name.
You meet your reflection, something out of a fantasy—your breasts bouncing with each thrust, your flushed face contorted in pleasure, your mouth open as you gasped for breaths. Mayday’s eyes were locked on the image, his gaze dark with lust as he watched you come undone.
“You look so fucking hot like this,” he growled, his fingers pinching your nipples, rolling them between his fingers as he thrust harder, deeper. The sensation sent jolts of pleasure straight to your core, each one pushing you closer to the edge. “You look like you’d beg me to spank you.”
“Do it.” You beg in an instant, the continuous praise making your blood burn. You fingers come between your legs, playing with your clit desperate as your need to cum starts to build.
Mayday groans in satisfaction, striking a hand down against your bare arse making you yelp out in a pleasurable pain and ask for him to do it again. And he does. Again, and again.
You found it hard to keep yourself up, the ecstasy almost too much to bear. Mayday’s hands moved back to your hips, gripping them tight before he spins you to face him, sitting you on top of the sink before he continues rutting into you, his pace relentless, merciless.
His beard scratches against your face as his tongue dives straight into your mouth, swallowing your moans as the pressure builds inside you, coiling tighter and tighter until it’s ready to snap. “Come for me,” his voice rough with need. “I want to feel you come on my cock like the good girl you are.”
His words were your undoing. The coil inside you snapped, and you cried his name as you let go, your pussy convulsing all over his cock. “S-shit, oh fuck.” The orgasm ripped through you with a force that left you trembling, breathing ragged as your body dripped in sweat.
And Mayday wasn’t far behind.
With a final, deep thrust, he groaned your name low in his throat, his grip on your hips tightening as he buried himself inside you, his release hot as he spilled into you. His hips jutted as he rode out his own high, his breath heavy against your ear.
For a moment, neither of you moved, the only sound was the uneven breaths filling the small space. Mayday’s hands slowly released their grip on you, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “You okay?”
You sigh softly, completely spent and exhausted but nod your head lazily. “Fine, great even.” You muse, an almost drunk smile on your lips as your high slowly starts to fade.
Mayday goes ahead and grabs your clothes for you, dusting them off and also grabbing some tissue for you to use. He lets you clean yourself up, offering a helping hand where needed. When you’re both decent, the air is a little thick as you turn to look at each other.
“So,” you start, hands tucked behind your back as you play with your fingers, “what does this mean, exactly?”
“It means,” he says as he approaches you, taking your hands into his own, “you come spend the night with me. And the following night…. And the one after that too.”
Tumblr media
Tags: @lulalovez @photogirl894 @clonethirstingisreal @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @yunggoblin @imalovernotahater @sithstrings @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi
@greaser-wolf @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420
@ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @littlefeatherr r @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @lamiliani
151 notes · View notes
gguk-n · 1 year ago
Text
Falling for you again (Lewis Hamilton x Reader)
Summary- Getting the happily ever-after the two of them deserved.
There's a lot of domestic couple shit. Sorry, took me a while. Kinda long. Hope you enjoy this. This took longer than I hoped.
Part 1
Il mio dolce fratello maggiore- my sweet older brother
Sorellina- baby sister
Tumblr media
Continued from where we left off
[Reader's POV]
Lewis closed the gap between us, our lips met softly but with an intensity of the yearning we felt for each other. It felt familiar yet tinged with the feeling of something new. His hands cupped my cheeks while mine grasped his shirt, pulling him closer. He smiled into the kiss at the close proximity. We were forced to pull away due to the lack of oxygen. He rest his forehead against mine, trying to catch his breath. "Even after so many years, you do not fail to take my breath away" he breathed out, barely above a whisper but I heard it. A crimson hue bloomed across my neck and cheeks; moving away from Lewis, only to be pulled back into a kiss with a slight force. "I have plans for dinner, Lew" the old nickname back, as I tried to free myself from his grasp. "How do you expect me to stop after getting you back after so many years?" he mumbled against my lips, pulling me in by my waist for another kiss. I smiled, "You haven't gotten me back yet" I teased. "I'll spend the rest of eternity trying" he whispered; squeezing my waist as he kissed me harder. I was able to finally pull away; "Ok, Lew, I have dinner plans with Marco and Kimi" I stated. "I could join you" he suggested. "Marco will probably have your head on a stick" I replied casually. "Why?" he quizzed. "Well, I did cry to him after we broke up and he was very angry at you. You know how girls are after a break up" I teased. I saw his adam's apple bob as he gulped in fear. "Play your cards right and maybe this time, you'll get to meet my family" I commented. "Let me know what everyone likes, I might have to start buying their affection" he thought out. "Can I have your number?" I asked shyly, I felt like a teenager, back at Silverstone 18 years ago. I left after we exchanged numbers.
I got dressed up for dinner and met the two of them in the hotel lobby. The restaurant was a 10 minute walk from the hotel, so we decided to enjoy the Monaco evening breeze. At the restaurant, we were seated after a bit of wait but the food was served promptly. I took a sip of my chardonnay when Kimi spoke up, "You and Lewis should date, or you'll end up alone with only me and my sister as your only visitors in your old age home." Marco dropped his cutlery with a clang. I almost spat my wine out; wiping my lips, "What makes you say that?" I questioned. "Both of you are single, and that would mean you would be there at more races" he continued. "I knew there was an ulterior motive" I laughed. Marco also having gained his composure back. We finished up with dinner and on the walk back I spoke to Marco, "Il mio dulce fratello maggiore" "What do you want?' Marco asked annoyed. "What can't I be nice?" I feigned innocence. "I've known you since you were born. Spill it" he replied. "Well" I paused, "I may or may not have agreed to a date with someone" I continued cautiously. "That's good news. Who's the lucky guy?" he asked excitedly. "Lewis" I pursed my lips. He looked at me in disbelief, "Sorellina" he spoke, "You remember how distraught you were" he smiled sorrowfully; "I just worry about you" he finished speaking. "I know, but I was 21. I'm older and wiser. I won't be reckless. I just, he's always been the one that got away. I just....this feels like a second chance." I said. He hummed in response, "If you're happy then I'm happy. But this time, if he makes you cry, I'm breaking his bones" he commented seriously. "Marco, don't scare him off just yet" I whined. "I'm looking out for you" he said, shaking his head. "What are you guys talking about with out me?" Kimi asked running back to us to stand in between.
After reaching the hotel, I went to sleep. I woke up to a text from Lewis asking what hotel I was in. I ended up texting him back only to be told to pack my bag because he was checking me out so that I could stay with him. Reasoning with him was useless; he can be relentless. I packed my stuff, got dressed and waited for Lewis in the lobby. He drove up to the entrance in his blue Ferrari. He took my stuff and put it in his car. He held the door for me and even buckled my seatbelt. The ride back was quick. We got out of the car and Lewis carried my stuff in. We spent the next couple of days walking around Monaco avoiding any paparazzi and spending as much of our time as possible wrapped up in each others embrace. "Can I be your boyfriend?" Lewis asked while we were laid in bed. "Didn't I tell you?" I giggled. "What?" Lewis whispered. "I accepted you as my boyfriend the time we kissed on the paddock." I whispered back. The smile on Lewis's lips could give any man a run for his money. He started peppering my face with kisses and thank yous in between.
Time flew by really quickly and it was finally time for me to return back to Italy. As I zipped up my suitcase, "Darling, I own a private jet, I'll fly you out" Lewis spoke. "Babe, you have a race next week. You should focus on that." I said. "Darling, I can't bear to be away from you" he said while wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing my shoulder, slowly tracing his arms lower. His lips moved up to suck on my neck. I extended my neck to give him more access. His hands cupped my ass pulling me closer to grind against him. I wrapped my arms around his neck and brought his lips against mine. "When is your flight again?" he asked in between desperate sloppy kisses. "2 hours" I hummed against him finally pushing him away, "I'm gonna miss my flight" I went back making sure I had finish packing everything up.
Lewis reluctantly dropped me off at the airport. The flight back was bittersweet. We weren't able to see each other for almost a month until, Silverstone. Lewis had literally begged me to come since it was his home race. I was a little apprehensive and only after a lot of begging did I agree to go. When Kimi found out I was going to be coming, he was so ecstatic. He had planned out a weekend with me. How was I gonna escape him? was the only thought on my mind.
Kimi flew in with Marco and I came in a day later due to work. Lewis had come to pick me up at the airport even though I had asked him not to. The British media was in a frenzy and I had no plans of having my privacy violated as soon as I set foot on British soil. Also, I hadn't told any one about Lewis yet except Marco and Manuela. I felt like Lewis was a spy in another life because we evaded the British media with more ease than I expected. Lewis lead me up to his hotel suite which had a great view of the city. We stood facing the window with his arms wrapped around my torso and his chin buried in my neck. "How do you look this pretty even after a flight?" he mumbled. I couldn't help but laugh, "Amore it was 2 hours long" "Still" he hummed pecking my shoulder. "You should freshen up, we gotta leave for media day" he said, trailing kisses up my shoulder to the back of my ear. "I'm meeting up with Kimi, it's his sprint qualifying today" I said meeting his eyes. It seems to me that Lewis had plans I had just throttled. He immediately stepped back. "You know, he's like my own son. I can't miss his race when I'm here" I continued. "No, you should go. It would mean a lot to him" he said, sounding a bit deflated.
The qualifying finished without a hitch, Kimi just happy to have me around. Me and Marco hung out together till it was time to head back. There was this feeling of unease since the morning since I couldn't go with Lewis. The next day was Kimi's sprint race and I went to the circuit with him. The race was quite exciting since Kimi won his maiden race. Toto was over the moon and was running towards Kimi faster then Marco. I was so proud of Kimi who was so happy that me and his parents were there to be able to witness his maiden win. We spent the evening together and I even made plans for a huge celebrations once we were home.
On Sunday, I woke up later then Lewis, who had kissed my forehead good bye as he left for the paddock. I got dressed and went there adorned in my Lewis Hamilton merch. Kimi and Marco would were celebrating F2 race weekend which I had politely declined saying that I was exhausted. I knew that if I missed the race, Lewis would probably kill me. I immediately found the Mercedes hospitality where Toto greeted me and couldn't stop talking about Kimi's win and George's pole. I scanned the area for Lewis hoping to be saved from Toto's droning. Thankfully I was saved by Roscoe who had escaped his father's grasp and run full speed towards me. I bent down to pet him when Lewis came running to us with a smile, "He know's who is mummy is. Good boy" Lewis said while scratching his ear. Toto's jaw was on the floor. "He better" I giggled taking his leash in my hand. "You are very irresponsible Amore" I laughed. "Well, I can't do much when my son's a mumma's boy" he smirked. I felt a blush make it's way towards my cheeks. George had also joined in on the conversation when he heard mom. Lewis took my other hand in his and introduced me to the team as the love of his life. The blush only turned a shade deeper as everyone gathered around to greet and congratulate us. I got to finally meet his parents too, who looked so happy.
There wasn't a boring moment during the race. Everything was so thrilling. I found myself talking to his parents and then consoling George towards the later half of the race watching Lewis cross the chequered flag, winning his 9th home race. I found tears falling from my eyes while I hugged his mum. I ended up following the Mercedes crew to Lewis. He got out of the car and hugged his parents. While I watched the happy moment play out, next thing I know my lips are on Lewis after he had come running towards me with his helmet in his hand. The camera flashes went crazy as Lewis pulled away. "I'm so happy I get to share this with you" he whispered. "I'm happy I get to share this with you too" I whispered back.
The media was in a frenzy, not only did Lewis break his own record of most race wins at a circuit but he also just announced his relationship. My phone was blowing up from friends and family alike. We spent the night together. I would deal with everyone else another time. A 9 time Silverstone race winner needed my attention right now.
I invited Lewis to come back home with me since my parents were way to excited to meet Lewis. There was a feast when we got there and Kimi was sulking in the corner by the time I got to him after talking with everyone and introducing Lewis to them. "Hey, dolce bambino. What's up?" I asked tapping on Kimi's shoulder. "You could've told me before you know" he mumbled. "It hasn't been long since we started dating." I replied. "Well, you could kiss him on national television but not tell your god son" he grumbled. "Aww, I'm sorry sweetheart." I cooed pinching his cheeks. He moved his face away from me shaking his head. "I'm happy you got to be with the guy you never forgot" he said cheekily. "What?" I asked in shock. "He's the one you always talked about to mum after all of your breaks up, isn't he?" he smirked. "You're too smart for your own good. Let's go meet your Zio Lewis." I said while leading him to Lewis. My grandmother had loaded Lewis's plate with all her favourites. I was thankfully able to get my boyfriend back from her clutches.
Lewis got along well with my family, I thought as I watched him play with my nieces and nephews and help my dad around. At the end of the day, we were sat on my childhood bed while I showed him all of my albums and the trinkets I had collected over the years. A small smile played across his lips as he watched me pull album after album. "I hope our daughters are are cute and pretty as you" he said while holding an album. I turned around with a shocked expression on my face, "I hope our sons are as handsome and talented as you" I remarked. "I was gonna wait, maybe make it a little more special but I just can't wait, not when you are sat in front of me talking about our children." Lewis said, sliding down from my bed to get on one knee. Now I was extremely shocked with my hands over my mouth and my eyes filled with tears. "I showed this to your dad and he agreed that it was totally your style." he said while pulling out a black velvet box with a ring inside. "yes" I crocked out. "No, wait" Lewis cut me off. "I wrote this whole thing, and you're gonna listen to me." he said, making me giggle. I smiled watching him continue, "Y/N Y/L/N you were my first adult relationship and you taught me so much. The day I walked away from you was the day I left a part of me with you. Right now, I kneel in front of you to ask you to keep me forever with you. I hope that you will let this stupid man wrong his rights and let him love you for the rest of his life. I hope we get to grow old and wrinkly and watch our grandchildren on the porch or the paddock. I hope you will have me as I wish to have you." he finished speaking waiting for me to speak. But I was blown away. I was ugly crying with make up streaking my face; all I could do was nod. Lewis slipped the ring onto my left ring finger while I moved down to the floor in front of him. "I love you Lewis Hamilton. Thank you for coming back to me. I'll cherish you for the rest of my life." I said while wiping away the snot. Lewis wrapped his arms around me, bringing me in a tight embrace.
We got married in a private ceremony in Sicily where Lewis had initially planned to propose to me. It was as intimate and private as it gets when your friends and family are Italian. We got married in the summer break after Lewis's first year in Ferrari. The ceremony was wonderful and scenic as we vowed to be there for each other in sickness and health, in wealth and prosperity and for better or for worse. I had lost the love of my life once and I wasn't about to make the same mistake twice.
Only a little while later, our prayers were answered when I got pregnant with our first child. I knew Lewis would be a great dad, he was already planning out the kart he would gift his child the moment they were born. There were fights among the drivers on who would be the god father but we had decided that it would be Nico, who Lewis had reconciled with.
Watching Lewis interact with our children as I brought out the freshly baked muffins out to the patio. "Mamma, look at dad and Antonio." my daughter, Claudia called out. I walked out to find both my husband and son running around. I placed the muffins on the outdoor table and called them out to eat; all of them dug in. "I love it mamma" Antonio mumbled while chowing down on the muffins. Lewis wrapped his arms around my waist smiling at the scene in front of us. "I love you babe" Lewis said while pressing a kiss on my lips. "I love you too, Amore" I whispered back before I heard my kids making gaging noise making us laugh.
I was happy and getting back with Lewis was the best decision in my life.
Hope you like it
Tag list- @c23oj @unknownmystery22 @lh44girl
249 notes · View notes