#and nothing else for the rest of the night

[bloodnight-blaze]

“ who cares, baby? i think i wanna marry you. ”

ft. xavier, zayne, rafayel, and sylus w a gn!reader.

synopsis: you marry the love of your life.

notes: started off as silly thoughts for my friend and then turned into this so. take it. enjoy it.

warnings: not canon to the story of the game, self-indulgent, weddings, sickeningly sweet fluff, they all cry lol, it's short and it's sweet, reader does wear a dress so sorry if that's something that makes you uncomfortable, petnames used: starlight (x), sunshine (z), angel (r), princess (s).

XAVIER — certainly fantasized about getting married, but it was never something he actually expected to happen. Not until he met you. It wasn't love at first sight, but when you two entered a relationship, he could just see himself marrying you.

When he proposed, he had been so nervous that he barely slept the night before, which is saying something. But you accepted with a bright smile, and the man nearly smothered you to death with a hug. The mere thought of marrying you has him smiling, honestly.

He doesn't care how big or small the wedding is, though when it turns out to be a small wedding he finds he prefers it that way. There's an air of excitement at the wedding, most of the guests being your own friends and family since there wasn't anyone for him to invite.

Xavier knew he was going to cry. There's no denying it, he knew he'd cry at some point during the day because, I mean... he's marrying you. He's the luckiest man alive. He just thought he'd hold strong a little longer, but the tears were falling when you walked down the aisle in your breathtaking dress.

His gaze was drawn to you the entire time. Nothing else mattered but you. The way the fairy lights bathed you in this beautiful golden glow, the way you smiled at him with all the love in the world... it was like you contained galaxies in your eyes.

The vows were short and sweet, and when the officiant says you two can kiss, he was quick to gently cup your face in his hands. He could only hope the kiss he pressed against your lips conveyed the sheer and utter adoration he felt for you.

This was the beginning of a new chapter for the two of you, and while he's sure nothing will change, he can't help but being excited at the idea of being able to refer to you as his spouse.

ㅤ— “ I love you, my starlight. Until every last star dies, I love you. ”

ZAYNE — had always known that he would marry you one day. Ever since you two were kids, he had imagined it. You're the only person he's ever loved, so if he ever got married, it would be to you or no one at all. It was only a matter of time, really.

The actual proposal was nothing big. You two had dinner at his place and the box with the ring rested in the place he knew you'd be able to see it. He hadn't been nervous when he proposed, but he can't deny that his heart was racing when he popped the question.

He'll definitely want the wedding to be small, just a couple of friends and family on each side. His parents were overjoyed to learn about his engagement and made sure to clear their schedule for the day of the wedding, and he had invited a few friends from work as well.

Zayne hadn't really wanted to cry, especially not in front of so many people, but he couldn't stop the tears from blurring his gaze when he saw you walking down the aisle. How could he not cry, when he felt so overwhelmed by his love for you?

It was the first time he saw you in your wedding dress as well, since you had been so adamant at keeping to tradition. You weren't lying when you said you would match your dress to his suit.

The bouquet of flowers in your hands only added to the beauty of... everything about you. So he won't deny that he cried, his gaze never once breaking from you even when the officiant started to speak.

He was able to keep his tears in check for the rest of the ceremony, and once you two were home and no longer wearing your wedding clothes, he found it near impossible to stray from your side for you long. His hand was almost always interlocked with yours, his finger absently brushing against the wedding wing that bound the two of you together.

ㅤ— “ You've always been the love of my life, sunshine. You always will. ”

RAFAYEL — never thought about marriage. It's not something that ever entered his mind, and he avoided attending any weddings just to dodge the inevitable 'so when will we get an invite to your wedding' he'll no doubt be met with. It isn't until you entered his life that he started to give it some thought.

And when he did decide to propose to you, it had been spur of the moment. He bought the ring on a whim months ago, and he kept it in his pocket almost every time you two went out, waiting for the perfect moment. That perfect moment just so happens to be you spending the night at his place, laughing at his smears paint on your face. The question slipped out, and he seemed more shocked than you.

He was adamant on keeping the thing small, even though Thomas wanted to invite a bunch of people once the man found out about the engagement.

The only people Rafayel was willing to invite was Thomas and a couple of crabs he befriended. Sure, your family and friends questioned why they were being seated with crabs, but it's not their wedding, now is it?

Before the wedding starts, he had gone to the bathroom to give himself a lengthy pep talk about how he was not going to cry at all at any point during the wedding. And for a good portion of it, he didn't. When you walked down the aisle wearing a beautiful dress that reminded him of the ocean, he didn't cry. When you guys shared your vows, exchanged rings, and kissed, he didn't cry.

No, Rafayel only cried when the first dance started. When the lights dimmed and you took his hand and pulled him close, he could feel his heart stuttering. You looked at him as if he were the only person in the world, like you never wanted to look away. The feeling of your wedding ring was cool against his skin, and it was impossible to stop the tears at this point.

He spent the entirety of your first dance together with his head buried in your shoulder just so people couldn't see his tears. Only you got to see him like this, because there's no one else he'd rather be vulnerable with.

ㅤ— “ I'd marry you over and over again, angel, until you get sick of me. ”

SYLUS — certainly thought marriage was something he'd never experience, given his lifestyle. What person would be insane enough to marry the leader of Onychinus, let alone date the man? You, apparently, because you became a pivotal part of his life.

He won't propose until he's absolutely certain that marrying him is something you'd be willing to do. Marrying him means really accepting the darker parts that come with being in a relationship with him, and he didn't want to force you into such a commitment. And when he does propose, he can't help the relief he feels when you say yes.

While the wedding isn't necessarily big, a few of his most trusted associates are invited, alongside your family and friends should you invite them. It's a strange mix of people, and a few of your friends will probably pull you to the side after the ceremony to ask what exactly it is that your husband does for a living.

For the most part, Sylus won't cry during the ceremony. Though, once you two start to recite your vows to each other, he does choke up a bit. Any man would be a fool not to tear up at the sight of their spouse professing their love to them. And it doesn't help that you're looking at him with pure and utter devotion in your gaze.

You were okay with who he was. With what he does. You weren't scared off by the darker aspects of his life, and you were vowing to stick by his side through whatever the world threw at you two. Crying only seemed natural. Other than the vows, Sylus stayed composed. Softer, than usual, but overall he kept his usual demeanor.

Truly, he thinks he could die happy now that he's married to you. The ring on his finger was a comfortable weight, and he'd find himself looking at it way more than he'd care to admit.

He spoiled you rotten before you two were married, but trust it'll only get worse now that you're his spouse. Anything you want, he'll get it for you. You deserve the whole world for wanting to spend the rest of your life with him.

ㅤ— “ I'm staring? How can I not stare at the key to my heart, princess? ”

[oddproperty]

change of heart

masterlist here

✧ hi!! just a bit of writing for fun, enjoy :)

✧ word count: 2.3k

✧ pairing: lando norris x reader x (somewhat charles leclerc)

✧ 'suddenly unapproving of your interest in charles, lando reminds you whose guest you are.'

***This is a work of fiction. The story, names, characters and incidents either are product or the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.***

passing through the lobby of lando's apartment, you caught your reflection in a mirror, stopping to smooth the red silk dress against your body. having bought it only a few hours ago, you were pleased with how well it fit. the material of the dress fell over you just right, bringing attention to your curves. usually you don't wear red, but tonight it seemed appropriate.

-

"lando…this is so last minute," you sighed into the phone.

"it seriously should not take you that long to get ready…plus, charles will be here," he teased. this taunting behavior between you two was normal, having been friends for years.

"wow lando! that'll definitely make sure i have a dress for tonight!" you feigned excitement. “is he going to buy it for me too?”

"i'm sure he will in return for something else," lando joked slyly.

you were lando’s closest friend. when he made it into formula 1, it was common for you to be at his races and afterparties. you were able to meet all the racers and have good friendships. however, it was clear that charles enjoyed your presence in the paddock seemingly more than lando. never failing to talk to you after every race, holding your attention at the afterparties, and similar things were normal practice. lando noticed you showed interest back, and he never seemed too fond of this connection. you assumed it was because, at times, you and lando had been flirty with each other…although it never went further than sly comments and a light touch here and there on nights where you both had been drinking too much.

"you're sick…i'll be there."

-

arriving at his door, you heard the music already sounding. you got there early and were surprised that it sounded like the party already began.

your knocking on the hard door received no answer. after trying twice, you began fiddling through your purse to find the spare key he had given you in case of emergencies. slotting it into the door handle, you looked into his living room where a dj booth stood, but no lando.

"lando?" you called out over the music. no answer.

having been in his apartment probably more than your own, you made your way to the hallway with his bedroom. you hoped your heels clicking on the hardwood flooring would be loud enough to alert him. trying to call out his name once more, you received nothing back.

entering his bedroom, you caught the reflection of him dressing in the overly large mirror that always faced his bed. you never thought too deep into it being there, and frankly, you didn't want to. you remembered all the times lando made sly remarks of showing you why he had it there.

he wore an all-black suit with the first two shirt buttons undone. the shiny necklace he had worn for the majority of his life shining brightly through the gap. a glass of whiskey rested on the table nearby. of course you thought him attractive at least once in the duration of your friendship. his curly hair, hazel eyes, and of course the physique that formula 1 training had brought him. this outfit pointed all of his features out to you more than normal.

"pregaming?" you ask, pointing to his drink as you enter the room. he jumped at the intrusion, but relaxed when he sees that its you. you see a look of disappointment quickly show on his face as he leans against the table, grabbing his glass to take a sip. you watch as he takes the strong liquor with no reaction, making a quick glance at the half-rolled sleeve that displays his tanned, strong forearm.

"you know that papaya would have been a much better option. think it suits you waaay more," lando drug on, obviously displeased at the red dress.

you roll your eyes playfully, ignoring his sly comment, "where can i get one of those?" pointing to his glass.

he makes his way toward you. you carefully watch his strides as they close in on the doorframe you're standing in. his broad shoulders dwarf your own.

pointing at your dress and touching it lightly, you already feel overwhelmed by his small touch. "maybe charles can fix you one when he gets here,” he taunts you.

anytime lando could use your crush to embarrass you, he was on it. this playful banter was usual between you and him, though he currently seemed a bit more adamant.

"actually…i think this one is perfect," you say, taking the drink out of his hand. finishing it, you turn on your heels, making your way back to the living area. you hear lando trail behind, grumbling.

-

as the night continued on, you realized this party was a lot bigger than you had expected. the entirety of lando's living room, kitchen, and balcony were overcome with people. you were able to hear conversations coming from every angle, along with the semi-loud music that blasted through the speakers. you sipped from a complex and tasty drink he had made you earlier (after he got over himself) that made you quite tipsy. admiring the environment around you, you frequently saw lando djing his heart out. given your state, you began to notice just how nicely his defined arms flexed from under his black shirt. how his curly hair lightly fell over his forehead as he focused on the turntable in front of him. and the way the necklace he wore sat perfectly over his (admittedly very kissable) toned neck and chest. thoughts flit across your mind about how you should've taken him up on his offer to learn why his mirror is facing his bed.

breaking your one-sided staring contest - and to remove these thoughts about your best friend -  you shook your head slightly. when you glanced back up, you caught his eye, and noticed the look of slight concern on his face. he raised his eyebrows in a questioning expression, to which you smiled back at him languidly.

suddenly realizing just how much you liked the drink he made - and your sudden interest in being near him -  you made your way to lando to ask for another. brushing against everyone as you made your way through the crowd, you almost missed the large hand feather over your lower arm. when looking down, you noticed the signature richard mille timepiece.

turning around, you exclaimed, "charles!" while pulling him into a hug. his hands rested gently on your waist as yours laid across his neck. the scent of sandalwood and bergamot enveloped you, making you pull him impossibly close. the alcohol in your system was not working in your favor around him, but you were glad to center these thoughts on him and temporarily forget the ones of lando.

after a moment, you began to pull away. admiring him in the dim lighting, you noticed the black and white suit he wore, along with the thin red tie that almost matched your dress. it was more formal than what most were wearing, but he looked amazing. you slowly ran your free hand down the arm of his suit jacket, taking in the soft material. his hands remained on your waist as he watched you closely. you felt shy under his gaze.

removing a hand, he brought it up to caress the side of your face. he pulled you in, angling your ear to his mouth in order for you to hear him. you felt his slight stubble gently graze your cheek.

"you are so pretty," he expressed meaningfully, "red is gorgeous on you."

"i’d say it looks good on you as well," you responded, moving your hands to gently pull on his silk tie.

"wish i could see you in red all the time," he suggested, using the hand that was on your lower back to delicately bring your core flush to him. even in your inebriated state, you immediately knew what he was hinting at.

pulling away from his face slightly, you felt the warmth of his breath graze your cheek and could smell spiced rum from his lips. you could've melted into the strong hand on your lower back. you're not sure if it was the alcohol amplifying the sensations, or if the moment was truly that intoxicating, but you felt warm all over.

gaining awareness of the situation, you returned to the side of his head to whisper in his ear, "i'm not sure how much lando would like that," your lips brushed the top of his pronounced cheekbone.

charles quirked an eyebrow at you and responded, smirking, "why are we asking lando for permission?" the sweet, delicate demeanor he had when he approached you was fading, slowly replaced by a drive to assert his feelings for you with no regard to anything in his way. it was alluring to see him in this new light, so confident to show you what he's truly thinking. this possessive streak sparked a flaming heat in you that went straight to your core. using the hand that was already on his arm, you gripped it slightly tighter, steadying yourself to avoid becoming dizzy from the overstimulation of the moment.

having not heard a response from you, he pulled back from your ear slightly to analyze your face. it was clear he was looking for any signs of apprehension. there were none.

"hopefully i do not have to ask lando about the other things i want to do," he added, dangerously close to the shell of your ear. your skin erupted in goosebumps from his warm breath.

you paused to take in this moment. your slightly inebriated state allowed you to feel everything much more. you could tell his breathing had increased from your hand on his chest and your core, which was still pushed flush against his. you gazed up at him, noticing the slight lowness of his eyes. evidence that he was, as you were, in the 'drunk and interested' state.

between the alcohol having its effect on you, the heat of this moment, and most importantly, the man in front of you, you pull back slightly and shift your eyes away to lighten the intensity you were feeling. almost immediately, you make eye contact with lando. he is once again behind the dj booth, drink in hand and holding a suspicious look on his face. you notice his eyes glance down to your core, where charles is connecting the two of you. lifting both of his eyebrows slightly, you can almost sense a twinge of jealousy on his behalf. watching him, you see him take a sip of his drink before drifting out of your view.

your suggestive thoughts about lando from earlier in the night come rushing back to you.

"what are you thinking about?" charles asks lightly, bringing your attention back to him. you gaze into his blue eyes, feeling dizzy once more.

clearing all inappropriate thoughts of your best friend from your brain once more, you respond, not breaking eye contact, "was thinking about getting another drink."

"another one?" a throaty british accent spoke, almost as if on command. you glance over your shoulder, unmistakably recognizing the curly haired man beside you. "i knew you'd like that one," lando states, pointing at your empty glass proudly.

before you can fully acknowledge lando's presence, you were being guided away by him to the kitchen, his hand replacing charles' on your lower back. his, however, was a rougher and more urgent touch. as you brushed against everyone in the crowded room, you turned around to look at charles, shooting him a pained glance and an 'i'll be right back' look.

directing your attention back to lando, you stopped in your tracks. he looked down at you, pleasantly diluted and arrogantly smirking.

"are you seriously that dull?" you shout at him, ensuring he could hear you over the music. a couple glances were thrown your way, but it didn't phase you.

he watches you for a moment with the same languid expression, making you shift your weight between feet, slightly uncomfortable under his gaze. that is until he leans down, nearing the shell of your ear. you slightly shiver, both from his warm breath trailing down the side of your neck, and the idea of him being so close to you. your thoughts of him earlier resurfacing in your mind. suddenly you were very aware of how low his hand laid on your back. you clenched your legs slightly.

"if you knew who you belonged to, i wouldn't have to be dull," he teased lowly. "whose hands belong on you, hm?" you felt the hand on your lower back grip the fabric of your dress tighter.

goosebumps formed over your exposed skin at his vulgar words. this possessiveness was so completely different from charles' it made you squirm. feeling his smirk grow against the edge of your ear, you knew he noticed your change in behavior...and it was clear he liked it.

you were not at all pleased with him pulling you away from charles, but you were interested in seeing how far you could make him go. his words obviously showed his interest in blurring the lines of your friendship, so you decided to match his attitude. sure the drink you had was probably spurring this behavior on, but it wasn’t the first time you had thought about this.

looking up at him, you could see his blown pupils. the hat he had put on earlier was now turned backwards, pushing his curly hair down to his forehead, which glistened slightly. thoughts of charles slowly left your mind for the final time tonight. 

you moved closer to his tall frame, slightly pushing your chest against his, "can’t stand not getting what you want?” 

he shook his head left and right slightly with not a shred of shyness in his gaze, “can’t stand when someone touches what’s mine.”

[blondemrk]

hellooo could i request a 7dream reaction fic? how they would react if their partner was getting hit on - but before they can do anything, y/n's already fighting back at the creep LMAO

°˖ reaction to their partner being hit on ១

p nctdream × fem!reader w.c 4.6k t.w suggestive.

mark

mark had been keeping an eye on you from the start of the night. it wasn’t that he didn’t trust you—he did completely—but he knew how people could get, especially in a crowded place like this. while chatting with the others, he made sure to glance in your direction every now and then, his protective instincts always on alert.

it was during one of those quick glances that he noticed the guy approach you. leaning casually against the bar, the stranger’s smirk was all too familiar—the type of confidence that reeked of entitlement. mark’s grip tightened on his drink as he watched the interaction unfold.

"you are so gorgeous," the guy began, his tone dripping with rehearsed charm. "how about i buy you a drink?"

mark’s body stiffened. he sat forward, ready to intervene, but before he could even get up, he heard your voice cut through the air.

"wow, how original," you said dryly, not bothering to mask your sarcasm. "no thanks—i’m fine without the drink, and without you."

mark couldn’t help but smirk a little at your boldness. still, he stayed on high alert, watching the guy’s reaction.

the man chuckled nervously, trying to play it cool. "don’t be like that. i’m just trying to be nice."

you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms in front of you. "if you were being nice, you’d take the hint and walk away. but since you’re still here, let me make it even clearer: i’m not interested. go bother someone else who has the patience to deal with your nonsense."

mark stood up, his jaw tightening as he made his way toward you. the guy still hadn’t moved, clearly not taking your words seriously. by the time mark reached you, the tension was palpable. he stepped in without hesitation, placing a protective hand on your waist.

"she said she’s not interested," mark said firmly, his tone calm but carrying an unmistakable edge. "i think it’s time for you to leave."

the guy’s eyes flicked to mark, and for a moment, he looked like he wanted to argue. but one glance at mark’s unflinching expression and his broad frame was enough to change his mind. muttering something under his breath, the man finally turned and disappeared into the crowd.

mark’s gaze followed him until he was out of sight before he turned his attention back to you. his hand stayed on your waist as his eyes softened, his concern now fully focused on you. "are you okay?" he asked, his voice low but gentle.

you smirked, brushing it off like it was nothing. "he was annoying. i wasn’t going to let him ruin my night."

mark let out a soft laugh, shaking his head as he cupped your cheek with his free hand. his thumb brushed against your skin, his admiration for you clear in his eyes. "you handed that so well. i still don’t want anyone bothering my girl again tonight," he murmured, his voice dropping to a tender tone. "how about you stick with me for the rest of the night, hm?"

you smiled, leaning into his touch as the tension from the encounter melted away. "sounds like a good plan to me," you said softly, your confidence still shining through.

mark smiles, leaving a kiss on your forehead. "lets go. i'll buy you a drink instead beautiful"

renjun

renjun is the observant type, and tonight is no exception. while the others are engrossed in their conversations, he’s casually scanning the room, his sharp eyes picking up on the subtle shifts in the crowd. that’s when he notices him—the guy standing a little too close to you at the bar. renjun’s easy smile falters as he watches the man lean in, his body language screaming overconfidence.

"you look like someone who appreciates good company," the guy says, his tone dripping with smugness.

renjun sets down his drink, the tightening of his jaw the only indication of his irritation. he’s already preparing to intervene, his mind running through possible ways to defuse the situation, but then he hears your response—sharp and cutting, with no room for misunderstanding.

"good company?" you repeat, raising an eyebrow. "is that what you think you are? because all i see is someone who doesn’t know how to read the room."

the guy laughs nervously, clearly not expecting such a blunt rejection. he tries to play it cool, his smirk faltering but still present. "wow, okay. feisty. i like that."

you let out a dry laugh, your expression turning colder. "you liking something about me doesn’t mean i owe you my time. so why don’t you take that ‘good company’ somewhere else before you embarrass yourself further?"

renjun can’t hide the smirk that tugs at his lips as he watches the guy flounder. by now, renjun has made his way to your side, standing just behind the man with his arms crossed. the subtle shift in your expression when you notice him doesn’t go unnoticed by renjun, and he takes that as his cue to step in.

"is there a problem here?" renjun asks, his voice calm but carrying a quiet authority that instantly shifts the energy. the guy freezes, caught off guard by renjun’s sudden presence.

the creep mutters something unintelligible—an excuse, an apology, maybe both—before hastily backing off and disappearing into the crowd. renjun’s gaze lingers on him for a moment, ensuring he’s truly gone before he turns his attention back to you.

"you know," renjun begins, his tone light but tinged with amusement, "i was ready to step in, but you didn’t even give me a chance."

you shrug, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you pick up your drink. "he was annoying. i just wanted him gone. no need to waste time entertaining nonsense."

renjun chuckles softly, his eyes glinting with admiration. he places his hands on your waist, rubbing his thumb in circles on your skin. "remind me to never get on your bad side, y/n. you’re scary when you want to be."

you roll your eyes playfully, leaning back against the bar. "you? getting on my bad side? that would require you to actually be annoying, renjun. and you’re… well, tolerable."

renjun lets out a mock gasp, clutching his chest dramatically. "tolerable? i’ll take that as a compliment"

you laugh, the tension from the earlier interaction melting away as you fall into an easy rhythm with renjun. but while his expression is light, his actions are more telling. for the rest of the night, he stays close to you—not hovering, but always within reach.

every now and then, he throws a teasing comment your way, something to make you laugh and forget the earlier encounter. but he also keeps a sharp eye on your surroundings, his observant nature ensuring that no one else gets the bright idea to approach you uninvited.

at one point, when someone brushes past you a little too closely, renjun instinctively steps forward, his hand lightly grazing your back as he murmurs, "you okay?"

you nod, offering him a reassuring smile. "yeah im okay dont worry.."

he smirks, leaning just close enough for you to hear over the music. "i know. but it doesn’t hurt to me here does it?"

he smiles, pulling you towards him. "cant have anyone taking you away from me now can i?"

jeno

jeno notices the creep the moment they approach you. he’s been keeping an eye on you all night, watching from a short distance to make sure you’re comfortable and enjoying yourself. but the way this guy slides into your space, leaning in like he owns the world, sets off every protective instinct in jeno’s body.

the man’s body language screams entitlement, his smirk almost as irritating as his words. "come on, don’t play hard to get. you know you’re enjoying this," the guy says, his tone dripping with arrogance.

jeno’s fists clench at his sides, his jaw tightening as he begins to move toward you, but before he can reach you, he hears your sharp, unwavering voice cut through the noise.

"enjoying this? oh, absolutely," you say, spinning around to face the guy. your tone is laced with sarcasm, your expression unflinching. "who wouldn’t enjoy being harassed by someone who clearly can’t take a hint?"

the guy blinks, clearly caught off guard by your boldness. his confidence wavers for a moment before he tries to recover, plastering on a smug grin. "you don’t have to be so mean, sweetheart. i’m just saying you’re beautiful. no need to get so worked up."

your eyes narrow, the irritation in your gaze enough to make jeno pause in admiration. he loves seeing you stand your ground, but his protective instincts are still on overdrive. he continues toward you, his strides purposeful, but you’re not finished yet.

taking a deliberate step closer to the guy, you tilt your head slightly, your tone colder now. "and i’m just saying that your ‘compliments’ are unwelcome. so why don’t you do yourself a favor and walk away before i call someone to escort you out? or do you want everyone here to see just how pathetic you are?"

the guy’s smirk falters completely, his bravado slipping under your unwavering glare. he stammers, clearly unsure of how to respond. that’s when jeno finally steps in, his presence looming as he positions himself between you and the guy.

placing a firm hand on the guy’s back, jeno grabs a fistful of the man’s shirt, yanking him a step back from you. his voice is calm, but there’s no mistaking the steel in his tone. "you heard my girlfriend. leave. now."

the guy mutters something under his breath—an attempt at saving face—but jeno doesn’t care enough to listen. he gives him a little push toward the crowd, watching as the creep quickly disappears into the sea of people, his arrogance now replaced by embarrassment.

turning back to you, jeno’s expression softens immediately. his shoulders relax as he takes in the way you’re still standing tall, a slight smirk tugging at your lips. he lets out a low chuckle, the tension in his body easing now that the guy is gone. "hey, baby," he murmurs, stepping closer to you. "you okay?"

you smile, brushing a strand of hair out of your face as you meet his gaze. "of course. i wasn’t going to let him get away with that."

jeno grins, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you into his arms. he holds you tightly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head before leaning back just enough to meet your eyes. "you’re incredible, you know that? but next time, let me handle it, okay? i don’t want you stressing over anything. that’s my job."

you roll your eyes playfully, but your smile is warm as you rest your hands on his chest. "i wasn’t stressing. i’ve dealt with worse. but i’ll admit, watching you swoop in like that was kind of hot."

jeno laughs, the sound low and warm as he leans in closer, his forehead resting against yours. "oh, so you liked the whole knight-in-shining-armor thing? good to know. i’ll make sure to keep that energy up."

you laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck. "just don’t make a habit of fighting people for me. i can handle myself."

jeno nods, his grin softening into something more genuine. "i know you can. that’s one of the things i love about you. but still… i’ll always have your back, no matter what."

the rest of the night, jeno stays close, his protective streak on full display. whether it’s his hand resting on your lower back or his occasional glances around the room, it’s clear he’s not letting anyone else get the chance to bother you. but he also keeps the mood light, teasing you about your sharp comebacks and making you laugh with his playful antics.

and every time you catch him looking at you, his gaze is filled with pride and admiration, as though he’s constantly reminded of just how incredible you are.

haechan

haechan doesn’t need much time to notice the creep bothering you. his sharp ears pick up on the guy’s overly confident tone from across the room, and he immediately shifts his focus to you. without hesitation, he starts making his way over, his trademark smirk already in place and his sharp wit at the ready.

"you’ve got such an attitude, but i kind of like it," the guy says, his smirk radiating arrogance as he inches closer.

but before haechan can say anything, you’re already taking control of the situation. you cross your arms, your expression unamused, your words cutting like a knife. "an attitude? oh, you mean standards? yeah, i have those. clearly, you don’t meet them."

the guy’s smirk falters, his overconfidence wavering for a split second. he tries to recover, forcing a nervous laugh as he leans back slightly. "come on, i’m just joking around. don’t take it so seriously."

you tilt your head, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you respond. "oh, i’m sorry. was i supposed to laugh? next time, try saying something funny."

the guy’s face twists in frustration, clearly not expecting you to shut him down so effortlessly. by now, haechan is standing behind you, silently observing with an amused grin. he takes his time stepping into the conversation, waiting for just the right moment to make his presence known.

throwing an arm around your shoulders with practiced ease, haechan leans in slightly, his tone playful yet undeniably assertive. "my girlfriend is funny, isn’t she? honestly, you should’ve just taken notes and walked away before embarrassing yourself."

the guy glares at haechan, muttering something under his breath before finally turning on his heel and disappearing into the crowd, thoroughly defeated.

haechan watches him leave, his grin widening as he turns back to you. his eyes sparkle with amusement, his pride in you clear. "that was hilarious," he says, rubbing your shoulders lightly. "you didn’t even give him a chance to breathe."

you shrug, a small smile tugging at your lips. "he deserved it. the second he opened his mouth, i knew he wasn’t worth wasting any energy on."

haechan lets out a loud laugh, his hands slipping down to your sides as he rubs them in soothing circles. "next time, though," he teases, his tone shifting to something a little more serious, "let me handle it, okay? i don’t even want you to look at another man, much less waste your energy shutting him down."

you raise an eyebrow, giving him a playful nudge. "you think i need you to fight my battles for me?"

he shakes his head, leaning closer until your noses almost touch. his voice drops, his tone softer now. "nah, i know you’ve got it handled. but it’s my job to protect you, even if it’s just from some loser who doesn’t know how to mind his business."

you grin, wrapping your arms around his neck. "fine. next time, i’ll let you take the lead. but don’t expect me to hold back if he says something stupid."

haechan chuckles, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. "deal. you can handle the insults; i’ll handle making sure they never come back."

for the rest of the night, haechan sticks close to you, his arm either wrapped around your waist or slung over your shoulders. every now and then, he throws in a joke about the creep, making you laugh and keeping the mood light. but underneath it all, his protective streak is evident in the way his eyes occasionally scan the room, ensuring that no one else dares to approach you.

as the two of you head back to your group, haechan leans in close, his voice low in your ear. "god you look so good tonight"

you roll your eyes but can’t help the smile that spreads across your face.

haechans arm tightens around you as he pulls you closer. "i dont need anyone else trying to chat you up tonight. stay with me."

jaemin

jaemin isn’t one to lose his temper easily. he’s the type to approach situations with a calm and calculated demeanor, but when it comes to you, there are no limits to what he’ll do to protect you. that’s why, when he notices a guy getting too close to you and hears the arrogance in his tone, a dark cloud settles over his usually sunny expression.

"come on, sweeheart," the creep says, leaning into your space with an infuriating smirk. "you’ve been giving me looks all night. don’t pretend you’re not interested."

you step back, your arms crossing as you glare at him. "looks? the only look i’ve been giving you is the one that says, ‘leave me alone.’ do you not know how to read a room?"

the guy chuckles, brushing off your words as if they’re meaningless. "don’t be like that. you don’t have to play hard to get. i’m just trying to have a good time."

jaemin, who has been quietly observing from a few feet away, clenches his fists at the audacity of the creep. he strides over, his face cold and unyielding. by the time he reaches you, the guy still hasn’t gotten the hint.

"dude" jaemin says, his voice calm but carrying an unmistakable edge. "she told you to back off. you should listen."

the guy turns to jaemin, sizing him up with an amused smirk. "and who are you? her babysitter?"

you open your mouth to reply, but jaemin holds up a hand, silencing you gently as his focus sharpens on the guy. "i’m the person who’s about to break your fucking jaw if you don’t walk away right now."

instead of taking the warning, the creep decides to push his luck. "oh, relax. i wasn’t doing anything wrong. can’t blame a guy for trying. i mean look at her, shes asking for it."

that’s the last straw. in a flash, jaemin’s fist connects with the guy’s jaw, the force enough to send him stumbling backward into the nearby bar counter. gasps erupt from the crowd around you, and the guy groans, clutching his face as he glares at jaemin.

"are you insane?!" the guy sputters, his confidence now replaced with fear and anger.

jaemin steps closer, his expression icy as he towers over the guy. "if i see you near her again, it won’t just be your jaw hurting. now get lost."

the guy doesn’t wait for further instructions. he scrambles to his feet and disappears into the crowd, clearly eager to get away from jaemin.

turning back to you, jaemin’s expression softens immediately. he takes a step closer, reaching out to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek. "you okay, princess?" he asks, his voice warm and full of concern.

you nod, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the chaos. "yeah, i’m fine. you didn’t have to do that, you know."

jaemin sighs, pulling you into his arms and resting his chin on top of your head. "i know you can handle yourself, but i’m not going to stand by and let someone disrespect you. you’re too important to me."

you wrap your arms around his waist, leaning into his comforting embrace. "well, remind me to never get on your bad side. that punch was impressive."

jaemin chuckles, his breath warm against your hair. "only for you, baby. but next time, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. i’d rather keep my hands on you than waste them on creeps like him."

for the rest of the night, jaemin stays glued to your side, his protective instincts on high alert. every now and then, he glances around the room, his sharp eyes ensuring that no one else dares to bother you. but when he looks at you, his gaze softens, filled with the kind of love and devotion that makes you feel completely safe and cherished.

chenle

chenle isn’t the jealous type—or at least, that’s what he likes to tell himself. but when he sees some guy leaning in way too close to you, his smirk too smug and his intentions clear, something in him shifts. from across the room, he watches, his jaw tightening as the guy’s overconfident voice carries just enough for chenle to catch snippets.

"you’re way too beautiful to be standing here alone. how about i keep you company?"

you’re already rolling your eyes, visibly annoyed but keeping your cool. "i’m not alone, actually. my boyfriend’s here."

the guy doesn’t back off. instead, he lets out a mocking laugh, shrugging off your words. "boyfriend? i don’t see him. come on, you don’t have to make excuses. let me take care of you tonight."

chenle sets his drink down with a controlled precision, his eyes narrowing. he doesn’t do big scenes, but the guy’s blatant disrespect ignites something protective and possessive in him. without wasting another second, he strides across the room, his focus solely on you.

when he reaches you, he doesn’t acknowledge the guy. not a glance, not a word—nothing. his full attention is on you as he steps into your space, his fingers wrapping gently around your wrist.

"chenle—" you start, confused, but before you can get another word out, he tilts your chin up and kisses you.

and not just a quick kiss. this is something else entirely. his hand cups the side of your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as his lips claim yours with undeniable intensity. it’s a kiss that demands attention—a declaration to the entire room, but especially to the creep standing awkwardly to the side. his other hand slides to your waist, holding you firmly against him, and you feel the tension in his grip, the silent message in his touch.

the kiss leaves you breathless, your hands instinctively clutching at his shirt as you try to ground yourself. chenle’s lips move with deliberate, unhurried precision, and even though the guy is still hovering nearby, all you can focus on is him—his warmth, his confidence, his unyielding presence.

the creep clears his throat awkwardly, his bravado crumbling under the weight of chenle’s unspoken challenge. "uh… okay, i get it. geez." he mutters something under his breath and shuffles off, but chenle doesn’t stop.

only when he’s sure the guy is completely out of sight does chenle finally pull back, his eyes dark and smoldering as they meet yours. his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, a faint smirk tugging at his own. "that should make it clear to everyone."

you blink at him, still catching your breath, your cheeks flushed. "were you—were you jealous?" you manage, though your voice is still a little shaky from the kiss.

chenle raises an eyebrow, his smirk widening as he pretends to scoff. "me? jealous? please." he leans in closer, his lips ghosting over yours. "i just wanted to make sure that guy—and everyone else—knows who you belong to. that’s all."

you let out a laugh, shaking your head at his audacity. "you’re unbelievable, you know that?"

"i know," he replies smoothly, stealing another quick kiss. "and you love me for it."

you roll your eyes, but the warmth in your smile betrays you. "maybe i do."

for the rest of the night, chenle stays glued to your side, his arm either slung casually over your shoulders or his hand holding yours. he’s not one to hover, but tonight, his protective side is in full force. every now and then, he leans in to kiss you again—not because he’s jealous anymore, but because he simply can’t resist.

and every time he does, it’s like the rest of the world disappears, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble.

jisung

jisung isn’t the type to make a scene. he’s quiet and reserved most of the time, but when it comes to you, he’s fiercely protective. that’s why, when he notices the guy at the bar getting way too close to you, his hands gesturing as if he has any right to invade your space, jisung feels his blood start to boil.

the guy leans in, smirking like he owns the world. "you’re way too pretty to be sitting here alone. why don’t i keep you company?"

you shift back slightly, your irritation clear. "i’m not alone. my boyfriend’s here."

the creep doesn’t back off, laughing as if you’ve just told a joke. "oh, yeah? i don’t see him. sounds like you’re just saying that to get rid of me."

jisung watches from the other side of the room, his jaw tightening as he sets his drink down. he’s not one for confrontation, but seeing the guy blatantly disrespect you pushes him over the edge. he strides over, his tall frame imposing as he steps in between you and the creep.

"she’s not alone," jisung says, his voice low and firm, carrying an intensity that even surprises you. "i’m her boyfriend, and i think you need to walk away before this gets worse for you."

the guy looks jisung up and down, clearly assessing whether it’s worth pushing further. after a tense moment, he throws up his hands in mock surrender. "alright, alright. chill, man. i was just talking."

the guy slinks off into the crowd, and jisung exhales sharply, turning to you. his dark eyes meet yours, and there’s a fire in them that you don’t see often. "let’s go," he says, his voice leaving no room for argument.

you blink, slightly startled by his tone but also intrigued by the edge in his demeanor. "go? but—"

"now, y/n," he interrupts, grabbing your hand and leading you out of the bar without waiting for further protest.

the car ride is silent at first, tension crackling in the air. jisung’s knuckles are tight around the steering wheel, his jaw clenched as he focuses on the road. you steal a glance at him, the way his sharp profile looks under the glow of the streetlights, and it sends a thrill through you.

"you’re mad," you say softly, breaking the silence.

he scoffs, his eyes flicking to you briefly before returning to the road. "of course i’m mad. that guy wouldn’t leave you alone. he didn’t respect you—or us. i should’ve—" he cuts himself off, shaking his head as if trying to calm down.

you reach out, placing a hand on his thigh, your touch grounding him. "you don’t have to explain. i get it. and honestly? seeing you like this is… kind of hot."

his eyes widen for a second, the tension in his shoulders shifting into something else entirely. he pulls into an empty parking lot, shutting off the car and turning to face you. his gaze is dark now, the fire from earlier still burning but in a completely different way.

"you think this is hot?" he asks, his voice low, almost a growl.

you bite your lip, leaning closer. "i think you being so protective is incredibly hot."

that’s all it takes for him to snap. he surges forward, his lips crashing into yours with a hunger that leaves you breathless. his hand tangles in your hair as he pulls you closer, the other gripping your waist as if he can’t bear to let you go.

the confined space of the car only adds to the intensity, your bodies pressed together as the windows begin to fog. his kisses trail down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to make you gasp.

"you’re mine," he murmurs against your skin, his voice rough and full of conviction. "no one else gets to look at you like that, talk to you like that."

"i’m yours," you whisper back, your fingers threading through his hair as you pull him even closer. "only yours."

the night might have started with frustration, but it’s clear that jisung is determined to make you forget every second of it, right there in the car with nothing but the two of you and the heated passion that takes over.

masterlist

hey guys!! sorry for not updating in a while.. i was out of the country!

also im making a permanent tag list so lmk if u wanna be on it!

[woncon]

[09:10 pm] ♡ poly!minsung

gn!reader | fluff | goodnight kisses | made with @honeytwo's help <3

‣ helloo, dears! 💓this is mainly what I wrote this january, in tiny doses. i couldn't afford anything else, I didn't have the energy. but now that i've got the exams out of the way? oh boy.

‣ stray kids masterlist :: ✉️₍₁₎

you listen to the sounds that filter through the blankets: the barefoot footsteps on the parquet floor, the innocent, soft whisper, the creaking door, the soft scuffle of falling clothes, the sound of water coming out of the shower, and the soft, steamy laughter.

the bed buries you, and your boyfriends forget your goodnight kiss. you curl up with a sigh, then close your eyes. your heart heavy with fatigue.

but you can’t sleep. just wait.

when the covers are lifted from your form, you open your eyes again. jisung smiles sweetly at you as if he's done nothing wrong. you would remind him of his omission in a grumpy tone, but he's kissing you, so you have to deal with that instead of talking.

“you thought i forgot?”

“yeah.” you thoroughly inhale his scent, an unmistakable blend of shower gel, pajamas and home. “a little.”

“don't worry! it's the highlight of my evening.” he gives you another kiss on the lips, a real smooch. “i know you can't sleep without a goodnight kiss. it's a real honour, jagi, to kiss you to sleep.”

you laugh at this, and are pleased to see your boyfriend lift the covers and snuggle in next to you. if he really considers it an honour, you have no reason to be angry with him. he hugs you tightly, tilting his head into your neck. you tuck your hand under his shirt and stroke the tattoo running down his side, slowly caressing his skin.

“how warm your hands are!” jisung is amazed.

“yeah, i've been warming up here for a while.”

"my little fireplace," says the boy, kissing your neck. "really, your whole body is warm. hmm, very warm��”

and jisung is all over you, longing for your warmth. “night!" he murmurs with a contented sigh.

your hand stops caressing his side. he looks at you again and you raise an eyebrow in question.

“oh, of course, sorry,” he giggles awkwardly. “your other goodnight kiss dealer is still brushing his teeth. should i wait with you?”

“you don’t need to. sleep tight, hanie.”

jisung relaxes beside you. you listen to his heartbeat, his breathing, enjoy the calm he exudes. without his presence, you'd be more impatient with minho.

when you finally hear the sound of the tap water running instead of scrubbing sounds coming from the bathroom, sleep becomes an attainable prospect. soon your boyfriend turns off the tap and the bathroom door opens again. this time minho leaves, also in his pyjamas. you immediately turn your head towards him to make sure he knows you're still very much awake. it wouldn't be the first time he's pretended to think you're asleep just to tease you. he's dragged out his bathroom time long enough, you've had enough already, and you want to follow jisung into the realm of long rem phases.

minho pauses and looks towards you. “oh? still awake?”

he knows you need your goodnight kisses to sleep. he makes no secret of it now, his sly smile and the way his eyes twinkle with enjoyment are quite obvious. but you don't want to beg. if he doesn't want to kiss you, you'll get your revenge: you'll steal his soft, warm blanket at night and jisung tomorrow. and you'll look at him just as deviously for the rest of the da–

before you can finish your train of thought, minho takes your chin and leans in for a kiss. but it's not just a quick kiss. minho gives it his all, and you can taste the menthol on his tongue as he makes up for every minute you spent waiting for his kiss, well, worth it.

“don't make out without me..." mutters jisung in his sleep.

“sounds like a nightmare, doesn't it, jagi?" chuckles minho.

“hmm…” replies the other, pouting. his face is chubby as he presses against your shoulder, his features relaxed and downright adorable.

minho looks lovingly at the sleeping jisung, then looks at you the same way.

he doesn't say he loves you too often, but he doesn't have to. there's no need for softly whispered words when all he's done is howl his feelings with his acts. yes, even with the ones he uses to play with you. it's well known that cats love their toys. and it's also well known that the longer people are awake, the stranger their thoughts become. 

you smile contentedly at minho now that your last wish of the day has come true. "good night," you whisper.

he nods, then crawls behind jisung. he gets under the blanket and slings an arm around the younger man's waist.

you close your eyes, feeling your eyelashes heavy and the sleep you long for not far away. then you open them again. you reach out grumpily and cover minho's eyes.

“you've had your goodnight kiss, haven't you?" he asks playfully.

"i can't sleep with you staring at me."

minho grins at that. he takes your wrist. he removes your hand from his eye, then kisses your palm. finally, he lays it under his cheek like a pillow.

"okay, jagi. i closed it. happy now?"

"perfectly," you sigh in relief. everything is fine now, you can sleep well. 

before you can fall completely asleep, you feel minho adjusting the blanket on you and jisung. he pulls it up to your shoulders and tucks it under your body so it won't slide down.

you fall asleep with a smile on your lips.

stay taglist :: @thebonsaibadass 💕@lemonn015

if you liked this story and don't want to miss out on the latest updates, I recommend you to check out my taglist options! <3 and thank you for being here!!

[echo-riot]

✞⛧ Abby with an always sleepy Girlfriend ✞⛧

• Abby finds your constant drowsiness both endearing and concerning. She keeps a mental checklist to make sure you’re getting enough food, hydration, and rest.

• The first time you fell asleep on her shoulder, she didn’t move a muscle for hours, terrified of waking you. Now, it’s her favorite position to hold you.

• She teases you endlessly about how quickly you can fall asleep anywhere. “You could nap on a bed of nails, huh, sweetheart?” she jokes while brushing your hair out of your face.

• Abby has become an expert at carrying you to bed. Whether you’ve dozed off on the couch, at the table, or even mid-conversation, she effortlessly scoops you up and tucks you in.

• She secretly loves how clingy you get when you’re sleepy. When you curl up against her chest or tug her closer, she melts every time.

• Abby keeps extra blankets and pillows around the house for your impromptu naps. She’s learned your preferences and ensures they’re always within reach.

• If you fall asleep in public, Abby becomes hyper-protective, standing guard to make sure no one disturbs you. “Go ahead, try to wake her. I dare you,” she warns playfully.

• Sometimes, when you’re too tired to finish a sentence, she’ll finish it for you—or just kiss your forehead and tell you it can wait until you’re awake.

• She’s incredibly patient with your sleepy habits. If you doze off during a date or movie night, she simply shifts gears and enjoys the moment with you peacefully snoozing beside her.

• Abby takes note of when you seem sleepier than usual and quietly adjusts her plans to accommodate you. She’d never make you feel bad for needing more rest.

• She has a habit of gently tracing the lines of your face while you sleep, marveling at how soft and peaceful you look.

• Abby’s mornings often start with you groaning and mumbling protests against waking up. She’ll nudge you gently, grinning. “Come on, princess, you gotta get up. Or are we napping through breakfast again?”

• When you fall asleep in her arms, she whispers sweet nothings in your ear, even if you can’t hear them. It’s her way of expressing how much she adores you.

• Abby doesn’t let anyone else tease you about your sleepiness. She’s quick to shut it down with a sharp glance or a dry remark. “She’s perfect just the way she is. You got a problem with that?”

• She’ll often adjust her pace to match your energy. If you’re too tired for a big outing, she’s just as happy to spend the day cuddling with you on the couch.

• Abby has learned to recognize your sleepy quirks—like how your voice gets softer and your movements slower when you’re about to drift off. She finds it adorable.

• She loves how naturally you nestle into her when you’re drowsy, like her body is your favorite pillow.

• On especially tough days, she’ll coax you to take a nap with her, knowing that resting together is the best way to unwind.

• Abby has developed a ritual of tucking you in, even if you fall asleep in the middle of the day. She always kisses your forehead and murmurs, “Sweet dreams, doll.”

• She laughs softly whenever you insist you’re “not tired” and then fall asleep five minutes later. “Yeah, sure, babe,” she mutters while covering you with a blanket.

• Abby secretly loves when you sleep in her shirts, especially when you curl up in them and bury your face in the fabric.

• If you try to stay awake for her sake, she’ll gently scold you. “Baby, it’s okay to rest. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

• On mornings when you’re extra groggy, Abby makes it her mission to coax you out of bed with the smell of coffee or breakfast.

• If you fall asleep during her workouts, she chuckles and keeps glancing over at you with a fond smile, feeling a strange sense of peace just knowing you’re nearby.

• Abby’s favorite sound in the world is the soft, sleepy sighs you make when you’re half-asleep and snuggling into her.

• She loves sneaking into bed and wrapping you in her arms when you’re already asleep, whispering, “I’ve got you, sweetheart.”

• Abby often jokes about how you have the stamina of a cat. “What’s it like living the dream, huh? Naps whenever you want?”

• Despite her teasing, Abby is endlessly attentive to your needs. If you’re too tired to explain why you’re sleepy, she’ll simply hold you and let you rest.

• She secretly loves how your sleepiness gives her an excuse to pamper you more. Carrying you, tucking you in, and making sure you’re comfortable are her favorite ways to show her love.

[heartmix]

girl you're taking home - CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.5k+

Warning: angst!, cheating, affair, unnamed girlfriend

A/N: someone get me away from these country songs!

F1 Masterlist / Masterlist

He didn't mean for it to go this far. It was meant to be a one-time moment after getting a little too drunk at the Ferrari Gala. He didn't mean to get so attached, so infatuated. She was his race engineer, for god's sake. They worked for the same company. It shouldn't work, it couldn't work. But here they were. 

One drunk mistake led to another drunk mistake which led to sober mistakes. It happened anytime he needed company, or anytime he felt frustrated. Anytime he just needed someone you were that person. You were the only person who could get him back to being in a good mood. No one batted an eye. If you could calm Charles down who were they to question? 

No one thought anything beyond it because of Charles's very public relationship. Often, the two of them would be in headlines and gossip blogs—the picture-perfect couple, gaining more likes on Ferrari's Instagram than anything else. 

Even with his picture-perfect life, it wasn't enough for Charles. He loved his girlfriend, and she was a great girl, but she wasn't the one he thought about every second of every day. When he found out any news, she wasn't the one he wanted to share with. That person was you, the one person he looked forward to seeing every race week. 

You weren't dumb; you knew it was wrong. There was nothing anyone could say to condone the affair. The selfish part of you continued it. Each time you thought of ending it, he would whisper sweet nothings into your ear, reassuring you that you were his girl, the one he wanted, and he loved you and only you. And every single time, you believed him. 

A part of you should have known how much of an emotional heartbreak it would be to be in this "relationship". The way you couldn't go out to do normal date activities, no longing smiles or someone would catch on, no introducing you as his girlfriend and taking you home to his family. All that there was were late-night calls asking to come over and a few minutes at the paddock before either of you were needed.  

Monza was the breaking point for you. It was a great day for Charles, for Ferrari, it should be good for you. Watching Charles, the Prince of Ferrari cross the finish line and take the win home was a momentous occasion. He did it. Ferrari did it. 

"YOU DID IT CHARLES!" your joyous voice came on the radio. He replied with as much emotion as he did in Monaco. Hearing that was worth all the stress you both endured this season. 

When he got out of the car he ran straight to the Ferrari crew, with you right in the center. His eyes locked onto you and soon a smile spread on his lips bringing you in for a bone-crushing hug. "We did it mon cherie." His voice was soft, not noticeable to anyone around you. But you heard him loud and clear. 

"You did it, Prince of Ferrari." You pulled back with a big smile on your face. How you wanted to keep him there longer and kiss him, but you couldn't you weren't his. 

After a moment he moved on to other members hugging and shaking their hands before he was needed in the cool down room. When he was on top of that podium it was like nothing else mattered. The loud cheering from the Tifosi crowd, the red smoke, the Ferrari flags, all of that was blind to you. The only thing you could think of was dousing him in champagne after the team picture. 

Making your way to the garage it was then that everything hit you. Charles was kissing his girlfriend with their dog in her arms while every camera seemed to be shoved in their face. A perfect couple, a perfect family. Something you will never get to have with him. No matter how many times he told you so in secret, it was never going to happen. 

The rest of the day, although filled with cheers and celebrations left and right was a day you wanted to be over. The only thing you wanted to do was to go back to the hotel and sleep. No more racing, no more celebrating, no more thinking. If only it were that easy. Being a vital part of today's win, you were forced to go out and celebrate with the team, with Charles. Fred wouldn't take no for an answer and the publicist would think it was a bad idea if the race-winning engineer was not celebrating with the team, in Ferrari's home nonetheless. 

That's how you found yourself at dinner, sitting right across from Charles and his girlfriend. You were lucky to have Carlos next to you. Someone who could distract you from the day. All night you talked with everyone else on the table but Charles. He could tell something was up. He tried to get your attention whether it was nudging your leg under the table or staring right at you. It wasn't till he got you alone in the VIP section of the club that you were dragged to by Carlos. 

"What's wrong?" His voice was soft, a tone he normally used with you. The VIP section was thankfully dark enough to hide how close he was to you. 

"Crazy day, just tired." You wanted him to get the hint to leave you alone. The talk about fully ending this was not something you wanted to do in a random club celebrating one of Ferrari's greatest days. 

"Wanna head out?" There it was, the voice that would get you in trouble. The tone that made you say yes every time, but not tonight, not ever again. 

"We can't."

"And why is that?" He teased. Of course, he thought you were playing around or maybe he had a bit too much to drink and wasn't thinking straight. That had to be the reason he was being so bold with his girlfriend in the same building. 

"You're girlfriend is here." You watched his smirk turn downward into a frown. He forgot she was here. His focus has been on you since dinner and he forgot he had company this week. 

Charles knew he was pushing his luck and being risky, he couldn't blame it on the alcohol because he was well aware of his surroundings to be intoxicated, "Later tonight?"

"No Charles, not ever. We can't do this anymore."

"You don't really mean that do you mon cherie?" His sweet voice ran down your spine as he ran his hands on your exposed tighs. I guess it was now or never, you didn't want to do it in a club, but this needed to end, for the sake of your mental. 

"I do. Charles, I love you, I do. And this is fun, but you have someone you get to go home to while you leave my bed at some random hour of the morning making me wake up next to no one. You get to flaunt and take her home while I'm sitting here stupidly thinking that would be me someday. I can't keep being the one you call when you need help or are feeling alone. You have that person already and, no matter how much I want it to be me it's not and it's never going to be. This is where I cut off every connection to you." You tried to be as sincere as possible, but the more you let out the more the words sounded like venom.

He was not hearing any of it—not right now. You were just emotional about the day or maybe had too much to drink; that was the only logical reason. "What the hell are you talking about? How are you cutting me off?"

"Lewis asked if I could be his engineer next year. I said yes a while ago." The mention of his new teammate hit him like a truck. You were being serious. Why else would you bring up Lewis? There was no way you were breaking things off with him personally and professionally. He was losing you either way.

"You're leaving me?! Leaving us?" His voice rose with each comment. Thankfully, the music was blasting, and all the chatter didn't alert anyone else. 

"There should have never been us. I'm your race engineer, not your girlfriend. I was just a person who was there for you whenever someone wasn't around. It was wrong of me to do and continue to after that night."

"No, tell me you don't mean that. I need you. You're the one that's always on my mind, I can't get you out of it like that."The look on his face would have made you take back your words any other time. He looked so defeated, voice pleading with you to change your mind. 

"I'm sorry."

"So that's it?"

"I'm sorry." You gave one last smile before walking out of the club. You didn't look back because you knew you would fall back into his trance if you did. 

[quokkaholic]

Teenage Heaven h.j

Warnings: MDNI, fluffy smut with some plot, alcohol consumption, kissin and touchin, f nipple play, dry humping, cussing duh. Lightly edited

Synopsis: (NOT about teens)Y/n and Han are in the early stages of their relationship and are meeting up in NYC for the first time since you met initially while he is there for work. Despite being long distance, neither of you want to rush into sleeping together, but that doesn’t mean you guys can’t do other stuff to satisfy your cravings.

Song recommendation: Teenage Heaven by Be Your Own Pet

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Han was anxious to tell you that, as much as he wanted to greet you at the baggage claim, it just wasn’t possible, no matter how much he begged staff to allow it. Despite that, he assured you he’s tracking your flight and will be in a car there waiting for you. When the plane lands in NYC, you turn off airplane mode to send a message to Han only to be inundated by messages from him.

“I cant believe i get to see you in a few hours”

“Im scared”

“And excited”

“Mostly excited”

“I can’t think about anything else. Why aren’t you here already?”

“It’s only been like half an hour”

“Im going to squeeze the life out of you”

“You should be scared too”

“I’m getting no work done”

“This is dumb asf”

“I should’ve been camping at your gate since last night”

“Should’ve never left the airport, and just waited there for you”

“You should be landing in an hour and 47 minutes”

“I keep trying to get them to take me to the airport already. They brush me off like im crazy”

“not crazy”

“Maybe for you tho 😉”

“Headed your way! Yuuh!”

“We’re parked outside”

“You landed 2 minutes ago…WHERE ARE YOU?”

“I tried to make a break for it, but staff knows me too well. child lock is on”

You are grinning at the phone screen as you read them, not only because of how adorable it is, but because you feel similarly. You tried to take a little nap on the flight, but your nerves and anticipation kept you wide awake. You let Han know that your plane hasn’t even taxied into the gate yet, but you'll be with him as fast as your legs can carry you.

“What does your bag look like? I could send someone to go get it for you, so you can just come straight to me. I'm already doing it. What color is it? Does it have a tag or anything?” He’s doing everything in his power to get you into his arms as soon as possible.

“I didn’t check a bag, Sungie. I just have my carryon and a backpack, so I can come straight to you ☺️” 

“Perfect. Better run babe”

Typically when you fly, you are one of the last ones to exit the plane, waiting for everyone else to grab their stuff from the overhead bins and trudge through the crowded aisle, but today you were the first one standing. You think people could sense your urgency; no one even tried to hop out in front as you slipped between the seats. Following the signs, you speed walk to the pick up area that Han is parked at. Your eyes are immediately drawn to a blacked out luxury hatchback with a tint as dark as us legally allowed; there's a man standing at the back resting on the bumper, and he waves you over. As you approach you see an almost unrecognizable figure wearing sunglasses, a mask, and beanie with his face smushed up against the dark glass. When you reach the car, the staff member waiting for you opens the trunk, and you go to pick up your luggage to load it, but are thrown off by a shout from the backseat of the vehicle.

“Y/nnah! Get in the damn car!”

You stayed up late last night stressing about this very moment. How would it feel to see him again? What if the connection isn’t there like it was last time? Would it be awkward? Would you two just end up sitting in silence? As you enter the car, you realize your hours of anxiety ridden overthinking were all for nothing. He immediately clings to you pulling you in for a soul warming embrace. You somehow manage to end up simultaneously both be in each other's laps becoming a roiling lump of limbs and love, unable to tear your hands off him. Memorizing how he feels, for those nights where you question if he is even real or just a self indulgent illusion. There are a few shared kisses, but you are holding yourselves back for the sake of the driver and security in the front seat.

Seeing him in person is a bit like seeing a ghost, and it has you and Han both in a state of awe. There is, in fact, a period of dreaded quiet between you and Han, but it's not awkward. It’s one you two share intentionally to bask in your togetherness. You are both but caught up in the moment, unable to believe this truly happened and worked out. Smiling at eachother with rosy cheeks and racing hearts, you train all of your senses on him, barely even noticing the soft sound of the radio in the background. 

You go over what the next few days of your vacation have in store with Han. When planning, initially he pitched going on a date tonight, but after some discussion, you both decided it would be better to have a hotel room date and just order food, so you cans have uninterrupted couple time for the first time.

The hotel is stunning, way fancier than you've ever stayed at. You enter through a back entrance that is arguably more grandiose than the main lobby as it's only used for high profile guests. Han shows you to your suite; his room is only a little down the hall. Opposed to your typical single rooms with a bathroom and a kitchenette, this place is like a luxury apartment: bedroom, living room, dining area, massive bathroom with a bathtub and shower, and a separate toilet room all designed and littered in the most up to date, trendy decor.

“Ji, you didn’t have to do all this. A normal room would have been more than acceptable!”

“Y/nn I know I didn’t have to. I do this because I want to. Plus, I kind of intend to be over here a lot, so I didn’t want it to be too cramped. I also wanted there to be a place we could sit together that wasn't the bed to be… respectful I guess” He can’t hold your gaze as the last part passes his lips. 

“You're so sweet, Jisung” You say as you walk over to him after you dropped your bags. He's cheeks hot and avoiding your eyes; you are drawn to him, possessed to hug and squeeze and never let go. The snuggle pulls Han out of his shyness caused by your compliment.

“That was the first time I’ve heard you say my name in person” He says nuzzling his face into your neck. He snakes his hands around your waist and delivers his promise from earlier; Han squeezes you so hard, like an python, he manages to squeeze tighter and tighter while attacking your neck with quick tight lipped pecks until your back cracks. It startles him a bit, gasping and releasing his hold to grab your shoulders with a look of horror on his face. If you weren’t immediately cackling about it, he would have been worried he hurt you. 

Han was considerate enough to think ahead, and the food was to be delivered soon after you guys arrived at the hotel for an early dinner so you guys could spend the evening together. For now there is nothing to do but enjoy being in each other’s company, and it feels so right. It's tender beyond comprehension, but not overly explicit: gentle kisses and even gentler hands traveling up ticklish sides or through lush hair.  Running your hands up and down his toned arms, you can't help but grab them briefly, feeling his muscles flex under your touch; they have definitely grown since the last time you saw him. You guys slowly start to get more and more comfortable and bold. The soft grazes transition to firm pets, but there is soon a knock on the door. He took your suggestion, and ordered from your favorite restaurant from the last time you were here as well as a bottle of your favorite wine which he must’ve committed to memory from a long passed conversation, as you don't even remember sharing that info. 

Dinner is a dream. The table is by the massive glass sliding doors that lead out to the balcony allowing the city lights to stream in. It goes without saying that the chat is immaculate, but the energy is so familiar and fun. You aren’t worried about eating too much in front of him or talking with your mouth full. Jisung just makes you feel comfortable and admired, like you can just be yourself and he’ll savor every moment. Once dinner is over and the bottle of wine is empty, you two make your way to the couch under the guise of wanting to show you some new music he has been working on, but the intense stares and frequent brushing hands had the tension quite high. He simply turns on some tunes to not be in silence, before your lips find each other. 

The intimacy from early returns tenfold with newly injected sensuality. The firm grips progress to needy grasping, with daring finger dipping under the hems of your shirts, and you find yourselves in a passionate makeout. Although the kiss is hot and lustful, his tongue is timid in its exploration, so soft and gentle as it glides through your mouth, careful to tame his raging desire and not to use too much force. It becomes the sloppy and impassioned kind of kiss you can lose hours to. Your session goes till your lips are swollen and your hair is a mess. You would say the light lip product you had on was gone, but you know exactly where it is, it’s smeared out all over and around your mouths only adding to the kissed raw look. Han’s messy love drunk expression spurs you on, and while traveling your kisses down to his neck, his hands grip your hips to lift and guide you to straddle him. You don’t hesitate to follow his lead.

Settling yourself down onto him, you both let out a small gasp, and you have to fight your instinct to seek friction, but your restraint is short lived. After Ji undoes your bra and helps you remove it from under your shirt, his hands are glued to your breasts gently kneading while intermittently rubbing his thumbs over your nipples drawing soft moans from your lips and little circles of your hips.

You keep trying to give him attention by kissing his shoulders or nibbling on his ear, but he will only let you do it for a moment before he switches his affections back to you. Once you notice the pattern, you pull away for a second, also partially to catch your breath. You ask through pants,

“Am I doing okay? You keep cutting me short,” staring down into his eyes you see no sign of discontent. In fact, at your words his full cheeks tense into a big smile before going back to attacking your neck and mumbling against your skin like he can’t look at you when he admits,

“You just sound too good, Yn. I can’t get enough.”

His words alone make you whimper into his ear causing him to shiver. He begins to move lower, lingering on your collar bones. Licking and nipping. He lightly presses together and lifts your tits to his mouth to kiss them through your shirt. Kissing all over but planting light kisses to your hard bud before switching to the other. He reaches for the bottom hem of your top and looks up to check in before he proceeds.

“This okay?” You struggle to find your words and just nod down to him with your lips pressed together, but he asks again wanting a verbal confirmation from you as he begins to raise your top.

“Feels good baby?”

It would be much easier to respond if he wasn’t giving feather light kissing to your sensitive nipples.

“Yes, Ji. I… I really like it” you say, gasping as he pinches your bud between his top teeth and tongue. Screwing your eyes shut as seeing him look up through his tousled hair with his adoring gaze, mouth connected to your chest, makes you feel like you’re going to melt. You can no longer restrain the involuntary rutting of your hip and decide to just commit. One of Han's hands shoots down to grip your hip tight enough to leave fingerprints and presses you down to grind into him. His previously low and soft moans are rising in volume and frequency being dampened by your skin. Your linen pants are cute and were so comfortable for the flight, but they do little in the way of concealing what you are grinding against. They are so thin that you can target your clit onto the zipper fold of his jeans over the shaft of his hard cock.

With all the work Han has put in with his mouth, it doesn’t take many circles of your hips to get the heat and pressure in your lower stomach to rise. You grab either side of Han's face and remove his mouth as the pleasure was starting to become too much and smash your lips down on his and moan into the kiss. Keeping your pressure firm and rhythm consistent, Han’s breath is trembling, whimpering and whispering your name. His sounds, his words, his touch, it all works together in symphony, and you contract forward to rest your head on his shoulder and groan as the you reach the tipping point and you orgasm radiates through you. As you hold onto him and attempt to ride out your pleasure, the sensation of Han now gripping you with both hands pushing you down on his lap, aiding in your grinding as he fucks up against you have another high crashing over you. His voice is shaky when he finds the ability to speak,

“Fuck. Feels so… I’m gonna…Oh my god”

His rolling of his hips has turned to erratic bucking as he cums hard shuddering, wrapping his arms around you and squeezing like earlier.

“Holy shit. I haven’t jizzed my pants since I was a teen” Han giddily admits with just a twinge of embarrassment, still clinging to you trying to catch his breath.

“This is a first for me! Didn’t know it could even happen” you confess still winded from the pleasure, causing you both to let out weak laughter, neither of you daring to move for a few minutes, just lounging in the afterglow. You guys decide that Han will stay to watch some stuff and if he just so happens to fall asleep here, oh well, right? Getting two rooms was out of respect and consideration, but you both knew you’d end up sleeping in the same bed. He lets you freshen up in the bathroom first, and once you exit, he has a fresh set of clothes in his arms. He must’ve called one of the guys to bring them. 

The rest of the night is filled with endless snuggles and random movies you can find on the hotel channels; the Harry Potter movies always seem to be on TV, so you end up watching two random ones of the series out of order. Han offers to go get his laptop to hook up to the tv, but neither of you care enough to walk the 40 feet down to his room and back. This night isn't about the movies, it's about taking in every moment of being in the same room. You guys end up staying up late flicking through channels, becoming amateur film critics. It's a bit past 1am when Han has the brilliant idea for you guys to go to a convenience store nearby and pick up some ice cream. You are in the city that never sleeps, and you will never turn down an adventure or a sweet treat. He sends a text to Minho claiming he can’t get ice cream without at least offering to get one for his best friend.

“Going to get ice cream. Meet in lobby in 10”

You and Han put on your shoes and coats and share a few more smooches before you can’t for 20 minutes.

“Did Minho respond?”

“No but he read it”

“So..?”

“He’s probably already down there waiting for us”

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A.n- I initially wrote this for a Han fic I was making before I realized that writing long form fanfic was not for me, so there's a bit more plot in this one. Thanks for reading.

-mo 💕

Mastserlist

[diorcities]

heaven

── you don't need to imagine. you know it's true. they say all good boys go to heaven but bad boys bring heaven to you. haechan x afab!reader genre smut, tooth-rotting fluff mature content smut ver of this, domestic love, oral sex, riding, multiple orgasm, overstim, clit stimulation, nipple/cum play, unprotected sex, creampie, small convo during sex, love making, slight rough sex, petname (darling, baby), switch!hyuck, sweet aftercare wc 3k

author's suggestion for next reading: stargazing.

that was the night that it all began.

he crosses his arms as he leans against the wall, chatting with some guy just as handsome as him. dancing his eyebrows and looking so effortlessly alluring. he catches your eye. “who's he?”

“haechan.” among the bodies, he embodies sunlight. colored lights cascade down his face when he holds your gaze. you find out breathless.

“funny...” you hear yourself say.

haechan. you heard it before, in a dream.

the rise and fall of his chest under your cheek accompanied by the gentle beating of his heart made the same sedative effect of melatonin; hushed breathing and feather-light touches at midnight.

you could watch him sleep for eternity.

battling the sleep that closes your eyes and numbs your muscles —your fingers, drawing lines that connect his moles.

his lips in a pout are slowly kissed. imprinting the love and fond you feel, too heavy to carry on your own. his full cheeks. his jaw. the visible extension of his neck. everything is touched by you. only you. like cardinal points that you know by heart, by inertia.

“can't sleep?” his voice sounds distorted by sleep.

you hum in denial. “no.” you can't. not when you're full of love.

his lips display a soft and tired smile, “what were you doing?”

“nothing. were you dreaming?”

he opens one eye, curling his plump lips, “dreaming?” he mocks.

“you said my name.”

he smiles mischievously. “maybe i was, then. i was dreaming of you.”

you let the warmth envelop your body; you're made of liquid tenderness and longing. melted in the tangle of emotions that are still felt around, in the messy sheets, in the ghost of a body imprinted on the mattress, in the still disoriented parts of your mind. in your head, lost in outer space.

you feel your cheeks burning before he leans closer to kiss you. love-filled kisses each deeper and burdened. “keep doing it.”

“what thing?” you whisper quietly.

you feel his fingers stroking your hair, “nothing.” and an hourglass later. “i'm all yours.”

oh.

despite the space between your bodies. despite still feeling his lips in areas where only he has reached. to hear his favorite songs, to be able to recite them from memory now. staying up until the wee hours; you've never felt this close to someone.

haechan is bad. you say to yourself. your friends know it. your parents don't like him... but, but you know him. you know him thoroughly. deeply. and when the two of you are like this, so close, he looks just as an angel even though he's far from good.

you've always known the good guys go to heaven, but the bad boys bring heaven to you.

“what do you want?” he usually asks, with one of those sharp and alluring smiles; the charm of any gemini boy.

and the answer always remains the same. “your heart.”

and now your whole body is burning from the eternal craving.

“go ahead,” he whispers against your lips, “make me proud.”

you caress his stomach, and the breath he was holding up until that moment doesn't go unnoticed. he's so much of an expert. from the way he knows how to touch you, and how to make you see starts.

you want to be so tender. softer. you don't want to be like the other girls. you want him to remember you when he's with someone else. when he gets bored of your prudishness as everyone expects him to. if he does, you want him to imagine you when someone else touches him.

that's the promise you make to him. the curse you put on him.

you know where all his moles are, and when your mouth rests on one that you're sure he doesn't remember is there, a deep sound vibrates in his stomach and one of his hands brush the side of your face with affection. your cheeks light up from his sudden gesture, and coaxs you to repeat it, lower this time.

haechan swallows hard. face burning and tickling. opening his mouth when he feels you and everything explodes, and he can't control his face contracting into a eased grimace or his pulse pounding behind his ears when your wet mouth closes and takes him in it; he feels all the thick blood flowing down, and a hoarse, strangled groan reaches your ears.

it's soft. thick. you want to be sweet. his circumference doesn't stop you from treating it gently as it's so delicate; your mouth water at the feeling of tasting him. he's so sensitive even after you've done it a couple times before. you suck on his limb member, bobbing your head up and down, feeling the silky skin of his tip on your pouting lips. feeling it grow in your hand, where your palm stimulates his length while you lick the sensitive area of his cock.

he hiss affected by that, and moans loudly.

his cock is fully erect. bigger and pinker. with a coarse vein running the length of his penis, firm and heavy. your mouth starts salivating, you feel a hole open up in your belly before you take him again. the pit grows wider when it almost doesn't go into your mouth like before; it feels full. and you feel it pulse. your lips close around the base where haechan bristles. “just like that,” he coaxes, “that's my girl.”

your hand stays at the base as you turn the motion of your head against his cock. tongue stimulating his girth, passing it up and down, making circles on his hard length. breathing becoming deeper, his voice raspier. the sounds that fog up your ears exquisitely more audible. the way your mouth sits around him makes his thoughts become an incoherent jumble, where he can't talk you through properly anymore, “a-ah, darling. fuck—” incoherent sounds and elongated vocals that you steal every time you apply pressure where he likes. your pretty mouth on his cock, your cheeks puffing up every time you suck him, your lips on the tip of his penis when you pull him out and start stimulating him with your hands after leaving him glistening and sensitive.

you bite your lip as you see his slit fill with creamy liquid. you feel your body burn and your gaze become heavy as you stare at the clear fluid that comes out of it. mouth watering before you lean again and have a taste. “f-uck,” he breathes as he crumples the sheets into fists, buckling his hips into your mouth. his dick shoves all the way to the back of your throat and he whimpers breathlessly, “... baby.” suddenly with urgency. mouth half open while breathing sharply, he strokes your hair with care, and you pay back by exerting force against his length with your tongue.

“o-oh god—” his whole body shudders beneath you, “fuck, yn!” he jerks, his muscles tensing tightly before he explodes in your mouth. warm, thick cum pours out of his cock in pronounced pulsations. your mouth softens around him and receives his seed as your hand massages the soft skin of his shaft. tongue softly milking his tip until the last drop.

his cock falls heavy and languid on his stomach, gleamy and coated in saliva and cum. your mouth feels full of him, drooling from the corners of your mouth while you try not to spill anything, savoring it before haechan sees you slide it thickly down your throat. you see him catch his lower lip between his teeth, rosy cheeks leaving his beauty marks to stand out on his bewildered face.

his wild eyes see you waiting, the heavy air left by your forced breathing, sharpening as he sits up in bed and his fingers grab your waist. “good job, baby,” he congratulates you before his mouth attacks yours in a warm, debauchery kiss. both humming when his tongue steal the taste of his remains in yours, “my good girl, i'm so proud of you, baby. you want your reward?”

you find yourself being dragged into his lap as you feel enraptured by the friction that is generated when you sit on top of him. there's nothing in between when you sit on him and you can feel with every fiber his figure beneath you. legs positioning on each side of his body, a tremor whips over you as his fingers playfully brush against your thighs. all the build up of the night heating you up with barely nothing. “needy, baby?” he whispers, digits going dangerously to your core, “want me to take care of you?” your breath freezes when you feel him inserting his index fingers into you, a vast pit erupting inside you.

haechan twirls his digit before adding a second one.

your head starts spinning as you feel him sit them comfortably against your sensitive walls. “all wet and ready for me?” he coos, “by sucking me off?” his thumb taps gently your swollen clit and sends shivers down your stomach. something slips down before a throb assaults his fingers wrapped around you. “you make me hard again,” he breathes, rubbing your folds in circles while he rocks his fingers, delighted by your features contracting with each stroke. his free arm drags you closer, and you almost cry when his mouth takes one of your breasts and sucks your erect nipple. fingers removed from you so he can guide his tip to your needy entrance.

walls contracting when he slides with ease his dick so you could enhance the feeling of him burying in you. both breathing out at the overwhelming sensation, a moan escaping your lips by the way he fits inside, arms wrapping him as you take him all. your hips buckle forward to feel him in every nerve ending inside, mouth parting open when he uses his tongue around your aureole, flicking your tits.

haechan rubs your stomach, easing the tangling feeling that releases waves of pleasure through your bloodstream. “let's see how long it takes you to cum if i do this,” he says, using both hands to start rocking your hips back and forth, and while doing this, he kisses you softly. his mouth doesn't leave your lips as you immerse yourself in a desire so raw and intense that your body becomes liquid and your mind clouds over. your body is filled with a soft and fuzzy feeling, and you find yourself wishing you had something to soothe your soul.

“i love you, darling.” something like that.

your chest tightens and presses against the furious flutter that cuts off your airflow and suddenly you find yourself gasping as haechan rocks you on his growing erection and you feel stingers poking at your legs wildly, numbing the muscles around your femininity. “does it feels good?” he asks gently and you're too carried away of the pain that forms on your belly to answer immediately. your mouth only opens to let out a strangled whine. “o-oh, yes—” hands squeezing his flexed forearms, moving you in and out of his length.

haechan grows inside you and a spasm pulls your head back. his dick squeezes against your walls and fills you with exhilarating pleasure. he keeps moving your hips as you find yourself mesmerized by the way he buries himself in you. bigger. thicker. harder. haechan won't leave your waist while he tortures you grinding you against him with a steady touch, and suddenly it's too much; his kisses are too much, the way he grasps you, the way he whispers praises, the way his eyes don't leave your features, exploding until you feel light and numb, feeling your pussy burn when you start to pulse, stroking his cock rhythmically.

“done so quick, doll?” he asks mockingly, rubbing your thighs. a cocky grin blooms on his lips and you hit him lightly.

your hips inadvertently wiggle from side to side on his cock, a smile comes to your lips at the tingling followed by a jerking, awakening your senses. “...d'you feel the same way i feel this?” you wonder between gasps.

he's enraptured in the sensations that overwhelm him, “i do... you're doing so nice, hmm...” haechan lies back on the bed and pulls you with him, you find yourself straddling him, legs spread on each side of his hips, as you comfortably accommodate in the best position so his cock presses deliciously against your swollen, needy spot before you start rocking your hips picking up the pace. wet and lascivious sounds coming out of the motion of his cock sliding in and out of you, covered in your silky lubrication. pleased by the dainty moans that start to fill the room at the beat of your pounding. at the beat of your heartbeats.

you're already on the verge for nothing. carried away by the sensation of his thickness only. the way he stretches you out sends a pleasing feeling on your nerves and you accentuate your thrusts sharply and fast. haechan's hands shoot up and grip your waist, and the simple gesture sends the purest pleasure shooting through your system, blurring your vision, and filling your mind with dense, white noise. lewd sounds rhythmically synching with your hoarse moans, hands landing on his stomach for more balance as his head lolls back and his jaw clenches for the new angle.

you are completely possessed by the sweetness that spreads through your body. for the sedative sensation that fills your mind and blurs your gaze. “feels so good—” you breathe riding him with eagerness, with his cock wreaking havoc on you, making you unbridled like a madwoman and uncovering primal desire. your hands grip him when a sharp twinge shakes you and pleasure spills into your belly.

your lips squeeze together as the crushing orgasm leaves you gasping for air and agitated, shaking your body in waves of pleasant content as haechan holds you on top of him, taking every twitch of your pussy around his cock. his girth drives you to the brim as you ride your orgasm.

haechan opens his eyes in awe when you soon resume the motion on him. your body has become a bundle of spasms and tremors, unable to give you a break from the big pit in your stomach that threatens to shatter you. uncontrollable moans come from his lips in utter desperation, using his strength to mark the rhythm of your pelvis moving over him, cock lubricated by your arousal causing squelching sounds that join his whines. narrowed eyes in an anguished grimace that fades with one last thrust before a spasm assails him and he begins to slow down, moves becoming sloppier as he reach his high.

your body rises on his stomach, feeling his soft cock slide out of you, the sensation of something coming down before his belly is covered in tiny beads of cum. your sensitive walls are still widened by his girth, you feel your body tremble at not having him inside you.

haechan blinks slowly, trying to shake the lethargy out of his body. his hands gently caress your sides as he moves slightly beneath you in an involuntary stimulus. his tired eyes watch you staring at him intensely.

“more?” he wonders, chuckling, lolling his head back onto the pillow. one of his hands leaves your waist to take his cock and guide it towards your entrance. “are you sure?” you tap him gently in his stomach, feeling him stuff you again. your arousal slipping out of you, soaking your thighs and the extension of his crotch and stomach makes it easy for him to slide in. “mhm... just be gentle,” he whispers, before closing his eyes at the sensitiveness.

it takes you a while to get moving again. feeling haechan back inside of you. a comfortable sensation glides down his length, fills your swollen walls with warmth. stretching over his cozy body as you feel your muscles relax and tingle when you feel him hit that sweet spot inside. a sound comes from his lips and your legs tremble. it feels so good. “you feel amazing,” he coos, “so good, and perfectly tight.”

you begin to rock your hips back and forth. your body feels light as you move over hin, letting out breathy sounds of how good it feels. fire spreading down your legs as you perceive the sweet burning in your intimate area. feeling his fingers burn as he massages the swollen, tender lump on your clit, releasing waves of pleasure that shake your body and delight haechan's eyes. totally possessed by the sharp pain that plagues you, moving so painfully slowly over him, inducing the purest desire. “f-uck” you whine, fingers poking at your sensitive nipples sending electricity down your belly. your pussy pulse sharply.

haechan twitches under you, and the movement causes it to bury his dick deeper.

you hear him hissing, “shit,” he whispers with labored breathing before you can feel the bulge inside you grow and become stiffer. your breath gets stuck in your throat at all the sensations that come your way. his hands now control your waist and you let him change the speed of the thrusts. all your senses squeal and become cluttered by the sensation that begins to grow in your lower belly.

haechan growls and his eyes darken, filling your body, seeing you on top of him, possessed by the way he's fucking you. his cock starts tickling when your stomach contracts, your body goes numb and feels heavier and heavier. a hole opens in the mouth of your belly, and you feel it painfully descend to your intimate area until it explodes and leaves you shattered.

your body is strongly moved by him when he shifts you under him. hands grabbed by the wrists above your head feeling him bury every inch of his cock inside you, before he starts thrusting you with quick and merciless movements. your legs stretch and spill out on the bed as your mind shuts down from the devastating sensations that take over you. “hae... ngn.” you can't stop whining as your whole insides collapse and suffer an unbearable feeling that haechan provoked by his thrusts. raw emotions that explode when his lips adjust to yours and he kisses you, feeling your whole body burn and buzz before a white noise takes possession of your senses.

an awl freezes you before letting you writhe on his cock erratically, feeling the tremors take your breath away as you feel him jerks, covering himself in spasms that fill your abused cunt with his hot seed, as he whines loudly. eyes closed tightly at the white noise that fills his mind, as the scorching orgasm leaves you moaning with joy. a stroke of bliss embalms you and you find yourself smiling at the crushing pleasure that comes in waves as you sense his cum sliding down your clenching walls.

haechan lets out one last guttural sound before going still as his cock pulsates less and less along your cunt. his fingers massage your clit some more until the pleasure completely undoes you and you become a hissing mess.

you feel his kisses on the crown of your head as your heart begins to beat slower, beating along with his. so out of breath, and tired. his body is loaded with sleep and love, and when you look at him with your little eyes shining, he can't help but smile. your lips affectionately touch his before you pull away to clean your mess, but halfway through he stops you to come back to him and kiss him deeper, “let me have a taste” he says. eyes gleaming “i bet you taste as sweet as you look.”

[orangerafe]

reader giving innocent!nerdy!rafe a blow job for the first time

cw; smut, blow job, nothing else I don’t think

School usually wasn’t a problem for you. You soared through middle school and high school with flying colours, getting A’s and B’s in every class. You thought collage would be easy, and it was at the start. But now you were on your second year, and it was getting harder each time you went to your classes. So after some hassling the teachers and begging for some guidance, they thought it would be a good idea to pair you up with Rafe Cameron

He was the schools golden boy, the one who passed every class with no problems and whose father funded the school to no end, favourited by everyone except most students. You didn’t mind him, he was a sweet boy and you found working with him fun. He explained things well, helping you understand the work better than most teachers did. Everything was going swimmingly, you two would meet up every Thursday and study for a few hours, sometimes getting dinner together

It was harmless, just casual studying after hours. That was until one night you just couldn’t help yourself. Your ovaries were on fire, making your hormones and horniness go through the roof. Poor rafe just wanted to help, and that’s how he found himself laying down on the bed, letting you take off his trunks

“Fuck, you’ve been hiding all this the whole time?” You almost moaned, taking his half hard cock out of his briefs and admiring the piece of flesh. He was big, thick and veiny. Absolutely made to satisfy your needs. He looked down, adjusting his glasses with his finger. “I-I yeah I guess so…” he mumbled, cheeks flushed a light pink. It was adorable really

You glanced up at him, a smirk playing at your lips as you poked your tongue out of your mouth, licking a strip from the base of rafes cock right up to his roaring red tip. Rafes mouth fell open, a low groan escaping his parted lips. He was now harder than ever, the feeling of his muscles spasming in your palm making you giggle. “You like it?” You asked him, watching his cheeks grow redder

Your tongue started to swirl around his tip, teasing the sensitive end. Rafes eyes rolled back, his head leaning back to the pillows as he let out moans of his own, even soft whimpers. You stared up at him, watching his every reaction as you started to throat his length, hallowing your cheeks and flattening your tongue to accommodate his largeness. He was hitting the back of your throat, and you hadn’t even taken him fully into your mouth yet

His hands moved down to thread through your hair, holding it into a makeshift ponytail. “Fuck, your so good at this” he breathed out, hips bucking into your mouth unintentionally. The way he pushed his his made you moan around his dick, the vibrations making him let out a slight whimper

The sound of his whimper made your stomach whirl, butterflies shooting through your body at the sound. You moved your hand to rest around his base, rubbing the rest of what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. Rafe was loving it, head lolled back and eyes shut in pleasure. He knew he wouldn’t last long, but he at least wanted to try last a little longer

Your tongue swirled along the underside of his length, the taste of his cock lingering on your tongue. “Your so good at this — I’m not gonna last” he hissed out, gently tugging on the coloured locks of your hair. You picked up the pace, wanting him to have a good orgasm, a good first experience with oral

His moans became louder, throatier as he came closer and closer to his climax. He was teetering on the edge of whimpering, sounds growing more stretched out and needy. You took him deeper into your mouth, determined to make him cum better than ever before. He whimpered, hands clutching onto your hair. “I’m — fuck I’m about to cum” he nearly whined, sounding desperate for this orgasm

It only took another bob of your head, another rub of your palm and swirl of your tongue for him to be cumming deep in your mouth, warm salty liquid spurting down into your throat. You pulled away, swallowing his load with no problems, minus the little bit that was dribbling down your chin. Rafes body was weak after cuming so hard, looking at you with dazed eyes that had you smiling

“You did good rafe, really good” you praised, rubbing his bicep as you grabbed his boxers and the tracksuit bottoms he was lazily wearing. Rafes cheeks flushed a little, still feeling a little overwhelmed. “Thanks” he replied, voice a little strained. Both of you then laid back on his bed, relaxing and enjoying each others company after something quite intimate

[shy-writer-999]

How many dreams to say "I love you?" (ii)

Summary: Zoro can’t stop dreaming about you, his best friend and crewmate. When his dreams start to wander from themes of romance and tenderness, he finds himself splitting at the seams. How long can he keep up this balance of night and day before he starts to go crazy?

Part 2 of 3 (or 4). ~5k words. CW: Mostly smut / PWP! Afab reader w/gendered language (she/her pronouns). Poor, pervy Zoro. Non-consensual voyeurism, masturbation, toys, kissing. NSFW content - minors stay away!

Part 2: A double life is unsustainable.

As much as Zoro told himself that he learned his lesson—don’t eavesdrop on conversations that are clearly not meant for your ears—the dreams about you didn’t stop.

Days went by and he could find no reprieve from the phantom version of you at night. Torture wasn’t the word for it. Agony, more like. He was in agony. Every night.

While the swordsman affirmed to himself that the dreams were a non-issue, and that they’d inevitably stop soon, you were rapidly starting to infect every single facet of his life.

This duality was maddening—at night, he’d answer to a fantasy world with you, where you treated him like some precious thing, called him ‘baby’ or ‘honey,’ and kissed him. But during the day you were his crewmate, friend, and nothing else. He’d smile at you like usual, sit by you at dinner, and tell himself that nothing changed.

This was a half-truth. The only thing that had changed was Zoro. You were behaving typically, maybe a bit quieter than usual, but he told himself that he was overthinking it.

The issue was that you wouldn’t leave him alone at night, and each of your sickeningly heart-melting smiles during the day was making his heart do that twisting thing. He couldn’t stand it.

Zoro didn’t know why his brain wouldn’t abandon this fixation with you—it had almost been a week; how much longer would this keep up? How many more tender moments would he share with you at night before he went insane during the day? If he got to a breaking point, what would fix it?

The dreams were festering inside of him. Confounding this effect was that the quality of sleep he was getting was atrocious. It’s like he wasn’t able to rest properly at night because the dreams were so concerningly lucid—he felt like he almost wasn’t dreaming at all, just living in an alternate reality, a reality turned upside down, where you loved him and smothered him in affection. A reality where he liked that.

Zoro had no one to confide in about his troubles—you were the person who he was the most emotionally close to. If he could have told you, he would have. But he was worried that it would change something. What would blurting out his dreams and baring these hidden thoughts accomplish, other than make you uncomfortable?

If he did that, you may get the wrong idea. He wasn’t trying to come onto you, he wasn’t in love with you, didn’t have feelings for you, etc. Zoro didn’t think he was capable of romantic love, it just wasn’t in the picture for him and never would be. But that wasn’t the issue here, he told himself. In Zoro’s mind, the problem was that he was being tormented by you at night and couldn’t help it. He was at a loss for what to do.

You were one of the highlights of his days, even before the dreams started. Now he could feel himself, more than ever, looking forward to those moments and latching onto them during the day. He harbored the suspicion that his brain would memorize your face more each time. The dream version of you kept getting more lifelike, more brilliant, more real. It was uncanny.

After the first three nights, Zoro started to brace himself. He knew what was coming when he fell asleep. He knew you’d be there waiting for him in some new scenario.

DREAMS 5, 6, & 7: “You’ve been a bit spacey recently.”

The fifth dream Zoro had about you was one where you held his hand (literally, just you holding his hand, nothing else). Your hand was warm and soft—it felt like it was made for him, like you were made for him. You ran your thumb across his skin and squeezed his hand through your intertwined fingers.

It was a short dream. When he woke up, he could still feel your hand on his. If he kept his eyes closed, if he stayed still, he could feel your fingers, your weight, maybe even your breath against his neck…

When he woke up, he was befuddled. Seeing you on deck the following morning, he glanced down at your hands. Would they feel the same as they did in his dream?

The next night, in the sixth dream, you studied his face quizzically.

“What’s wrong babe? You’ve been a bit spacey recently.” Your eyes explored his face imploringly.

He said something in response. He couldn’t remember what it was, and it was of no consequence. After you studied his face more, you remarked, “Zoro, you have the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen.” He flushed even in his sleep and woke up moments later to a quicker heartbeat than was normal. This was seriously starting to concern him. As mundane as these sequences were, they were abnormal and confusing.

Were these dreams some subconscious manifestation of a nascent health problem? Or was he not training hard enough? Perhaps this was some form of self-performed punishment for being so distracted by your presence? Maybe he needed to double down on the stoicism and the ascetism.

The seventh dream was also mundane. You were wearing one of his hoodies and a pair of his sweatpants; you kissed him and told him he smelled good. He had seen you wear his hoodies before, in real life. You always had an excuse (“mine are all in the washing machine, can I wear some of yours?) and he always looked at you more than normal.

There was something about you in his clothes that stirred him inside. He didn’t know what was up with that. Something squeezed inside of him at the sight of your face peeking out of his hoodies, your limbs filling up his shirts and sweats; he couldn’t put his finger on it.

The morning after the hoodie and sweatpants dream, Zoro woke up perplexed. His dreams, in the wake of the conversation he overheard, stayed relatively romantic. They weren’t straying from themes of tenderness and endearment (well, except that first dream, the shower sex one).

The romance is what baffled him the most—he had never looked at anyone with romantic intentions before, so why was his brain throwing it at him? Why you, in particular? It was mystifying, suffocating, and excruciating.

There were floodgates inside of him, pooled up dams of emotion, burgeoning romance, desires and fears, and your conversation with Nami sent a shockwave through those walls. They began to crumble, and new cracks showed every night.

Zoro tried not to worry, but he had an understanding that this odd trend of (what was it at this point?) six nights consumed by you was only sustainable so far as the dreams stayed this way—tender and, above everything, mundane.

He was a regimented man. He stuck to a clear and concise schedule, as far as waking up, feeding himself, working out, etc. But the dreams threw a wrench in his daily routine. The negligent quality of sleep he was getting, even after only six days, was starting to have quite the effect on him.

He was barely keeping it together by the six-day mark, dark circles deepening into sunken rings under his eyes. He concluded that he couldn’t handle anything farther than these dreams of kisses and cuddles. If the dreams changed—if they got explicit, he told himself—then he’d start to really lose it.

Emotional turmoil be damned, he could retain a sense of normalcy as long as his waking hours went on as usual and nothing else changed. He may be exhausted, but he could cope. He hoped the dreams would fade into absurdity, cease, and leave him the hell alone.

This was a self-deluding hope.

DREAM 8: Breaking point

The next night, Zoro dreamed that he was walking around the ship aimlessly. He did a lap around the deck, meandered lazily through the galley, and checked the crow’s nest. It seemed like the whole thing was empty. Where was everyone?

He sauntered to check out the sleeping quarters. All the doors were open, the lights were off, and the cabins were empty, except yours. Your door was ajar and the light was on—he felt an overwhelming sense of curiosity. As Zoro walked towards your door, time seemed to alter. He moved in slow motion, laser-focused on your cabin, approaching slowly with bated breath.

As he got closer, he started to hear something.

It was a mix of sounds. There was a wet sort of clacking sound, first, and when he got closer to your door, he also heard faint gasps and gentle moans. His heart beat faster. He reached the door—it was only a couple inches open. He knew way lay ahead.

The sounds were getting louder. He leaned in, staring through the miniscule gap between the door and doorframe, to see what was happening. His hand was poised on the doorknob, ready to push it open.

When Zoro saw what was happening inside, he froze.

You were lying on your bed naked, thighs spread, propped up on your pillows. Your face was contorted into an expression of bliss, mouth agape just slightly, brows pinched together, eyes closed. His gaze travelled down to fix on your breasts, a perfect pair in his opinion. But your arms looked like they were moving, so his gaze trailed down farther. He saw clearly now that you were touching yourself.

You were moving one finger very slowly in and out of yourself; your sensitive spots were red and inflamed, juices seeping out and covering your thighs and hand. He listened to your labored breathing and heard the messy sounds echo through the room.

When you stuffed another finger in yourself, he heard you murmur something, but he couldn’t quite make out what you said. He leaned closer, his proximity to the door threatened to push it open.

You let the sound out again. He heard it this time.

“Zoro.”

Your moan was quiet and needy. He was mesmerized—you moaned his name again and moved your fingers faster. Your pitch increased, your body tensed up, you were so wet that arousal was pooling beneath you, saturating and staining the sheets.

He thought you were about to orgasm when you stopped suddenly, drawing your fingers out of yourself with a gasp.

Reaching to the side, you picked something up. Zoro’s brain registered it with a considerable lag—that was a vibrator. That was your vibrator. He saw it once on accident, when he offered to grab some of your laundry and put it in with his load.

That must have been months ago. When he walked into your room and looked for your hamper, the vibrator caught his eye, sitting on your bed as plain as day. You had forgotten that it was there. He found himself blushing and pretended like he hadn’t seen it. But now it made an appearance in his dream—how sick and twisted.

You pressed the toy into your entrance, pressing it inside yourself with it for a few moments before you pulled it out again. Every thrust of your wrist was coupled with a keen of his name.

The vibrator was dripping wet. A string of your arousal connected the tip of the vibrator to your core and his eyes followed as you brought the toy to your clit. Pressing a button, the vibrator sprung to life, filling the room with a low whirring and pulsing sound. You whined his name again and pushed the vibrator back and forth on your sensitive nub, toes curling in pleasure. Your other hand crept down and snuck a finger back into yourself.

Zoro was hypnotized by the sight of you getting off with both your vibrator and fingers, evidently touching yourself to the thought of him. Your moans got louder again, along with the obscene sounds emanating from down there. He could feel his erection. He was painfully hard.

You started to writhe and squirm.

“Zoro, fuck,” you mewled, tone pathetic and desperate. “Fuuuucccck me, Zoro, fuck, fuck, fuck.” Your thighs started to shake.

It seemed like you were about to cum. He wanted you to cum, wanted to see you cum from fucking yourself with your fingers and toy to the thought of him—but right when you started moaning the loudest, right when you were one good pulse away from screaming his name, Zoro woke up. Of course.

Upon opening his eyes, he was immeasurably frustrated. Any time that these dreams, sexual or not, seemed like they were coming to a climax, he’d always wake up. It was like his brain was telling him to go fuck himself. And he was about to.

He couldn’t take it anymore, it was like his mind was playing games, like it was edging him or trying to piss him off. He was rock hard, about to cry from frustration, wishing more than anything that he could just have you, but knowing that would and should never happen.

Zoro had been telling himself that the dreams were just an aberration, a mistake, that he could forget about them during the day because they only were a nuisance at night, and nothing really happened in them that would impact his day in any meaningful way. But the narrative of the dreams not impacting his day didn’t hold up when he started to fist his cock while thinking about you.

He was forced to face the facts—the dreams were getting worse to the point where they started to bleed into his waking hours.

The morning after Zoro dreamed about you masturbating, he had to step away. Seeing you walk around the deck, interacting with you and watching you walk away… it was too much.

He went to the bathroom, locked the door, and palmed his growing erection until he couldn’t hold back anymore. Unzipping his pants and sneaking a hand into his underwear, he started to touch himself.

Maybe it had just been too long since he orgasmed (or even touched a woman). Sure, that’s what all of this was. His brain was grasping for straws because he was too repressed, right? You were there in front of him every day, so his brain had to make do—this was just a matter of proximity, nothing more. This is what Zoro coddled himself with, soothing his worries for a few moments. It had just been too long.

While he squeezed and stroked his aching length, he could barely keep in the feral grunts and groans threatening to leave his mouth. He bit his lip. Every time his fist grazed his angry, leaking tip, his cock twitched. It felt so good, but it would feel even better, if only…

At first, he tried to not think about you while doing it. He felt guilty enough as it was, having explicit dreams about his closest friend. But when his hand was wrapped around his shaft and precum trickled down his fingers in clear rivulets, the image of you touching yourself seared in his brain, unrelenting and arousing.

“Zoro.”

His name had sounded otherworldly when it parted your lips, coated in tones of lust and desperation. Just like the dreamscape he entered every night, composed of only thoughts, his thoughts in this moment could stay internalized too, couldn’t they? Kept private? This could be a one-time thing, hell, maybe it would make the dreams and nagging thoughts go away altogether. It had been too long, after all. Against his better judgment, the swordsman indulged. Just this once.

Scattered scenes flashed through Zoro’s mind the instant he decided to let his thoughts wander. All of it thundered at once like a maelstrom.

First, the look of your eyes, glossy, rolling back in your head in ecstasy. Then, the image of him shoving his cock in your wet mouth and watching you choke on it. The feeling of scissoring his fingers inside of you, of pulling your hair, of listening to your whimpers while he wrenched orgasms from you, pushing his fingers into your mouth while you sucked on them and made eye contact with him, watching your body writhe and writhe and writhe… every morsel and droplet of your envisioned pleasure fueled the force that was Zoro’s fist on his cock.

It would be hot and sloppy. Filthy.

You’d tell him to “keep going,” you’d dig your fingernails into his biceps, drool from how good it felt, swallow up his inches like nothing—he revered you, craved you, and worshipped you. He needed all of you. Wanted to smell you, taste you, hear you, and have you. He was getting carried away.

What if you walked into the bathroom right now? The door was locked, obviously, but the mental image of you stumbling across him like this gave him some sort of nasty thrill. If only you approached him, sunk to your knees and opened your mouth, petted him and praised him—

When the swordsman came all over his hands, he felt vile. He felt like a hypocrite.

He always called Sanji a pervert and derided him for his lack of control around women, and now here Zoro was, getting off on a dream he had about his own friend and crewmate. And what’s worse is that he didn’t look away in the dream when he saw you touching yourself. He didn’t even try. (To be fair, it’s not like he had control over what he dreamed about, nor could he control what he did in them, but that was a nonfactor to him.)

Zoro felt like shit.

The next time you talked to him, he turned crimson. He seemed distracted. He had been working out more than usual, so you told yourself it was the post-workout glow. You’d never seen him blush a day in your life, but sure enough, it was creeping up his neck and slowly starting to take over his cheeks.

He tried to forget his trip to the bathroom, but your pretty face made his heart thump and his stomach turn. He tried to forget the mental images his brain conjured up in his rabid state of desire. It was futile. He felt like he was going to be sick.

In your brief conversation after dinner the same day, you asked Zoro if he’d grab a drink with you. “It’s been a while,” you smiled at him, same as ever. “Let’s catch up in the next couple days over some sake. Deal?”

He hesitantly agreed. He missed you—the real you, not the dream version of you. When he said yes, you beamed at him, and his mouth went dry. He needed to get a grip and figure out what the fuck his problem was.

Zoro gave up on talking to you about the conversation he eavesdropped on over a week ago. He felt like he missed his opportunity (which is arguable) and, more than that, he felt like he wouldn’t know how to approach that conversation. What would he say at this point? “Hey, I’ve been having vivid dreams about you and I’m going fucking crazy?”

No. So, he kept it inside. He figured that he’d cross that bridge when he got to it. Would he ever admit that he heard the conversation? He wondered about this. Maybe he’d never fess up to it. Maybe he’d keep it to himself, internalize once again. But he was quickly learning that when he tried to stuff these huge emotions back inside of him, they got bigger, louder, more unruly. It was like psychological warfare, except the assailant was his brain.

At this point, the dreams felt all-consuming. He’d get so wrapped up in them at night that he felt like he was in a daze during the day. Perhaps he was being dramatic, or perhaps his brain was desperately struggling to regulate a whopping load of emotions he had never encountered before, or rather, that he had never let himself acknowledge before.

He worried that you could tell something was off with him. You could.

Later, you asked, “Hey Zoro, you doing ok?”

He stuttered out a response, flustered by your presence, falling apart in seconds. It was very unlike him. “Wha—? H-hey, uh, yeah, I’m fine. What’s up?”

“Nothing, just checking on you. You’ve been a bit spacey recently.” Your expression was one of concern. He seemed off, not to mention those dark circles of his. Was he getting sick? Was the insomnia coming back?

Upon hearing your words, it was like a lightning bolt hit Zoro. “You’ve been a bit spacey recently.”

What an insane coincidence. You said those very words to him in a dream a few nights ago, after which you complimented his eyes. He froze for a second, then tried to play off his shock with a yawn.

“I feel fine.” He shrugged. It wasn’t convincing in the slightest. “Just haven’t been sleeping the best.”

The paranoia was coming—did you know that he was dreaming about you? Had he been acting weird? Could you tell that he was thinking about you every moment of the day? God forbid, were you starting to form the misconception that he liked you in some romantic or erotic way? Fuck. This was getting ridiculous. Get a grip, man, he told himself.

You tried to ignore how odd he was acting. If he said he was fine, then he was fine.

He tried to convince himself that he was fine. He tried to wait it out and see that his attempt at convincing himself was effective.

It was not.

DREAM 9: A shocking revelation

Zoro’s dream the following night was delightful and concerning.

He was sitting on the edge of his bed, fiddling with something. Maybe he was sharpening a sword, refitting a sheath, polishing his boots… something like that. That part was foggy. Behind him, Zoro felt a weight on the bed. He knew it was you.

You scooted close to him from where you were sitting and reached your hands under the hem of his shirt. Your fingers ran over his bare skin, relishing the feeling of his abs and happy trail, every inch of his taut, tanned skin. You reached around his front and wrapped your arms around him. Your palms were warm, and you moved closer, body flush on his from behind. It was not lost on him that he could feel your breasts pressing on his back.

“Zoroooo,” you cooed right in his ear. Goosebumps. “You’re no fun. Pay attention to me. I’m bored.” You were whining.

You tickled him, poked him, kissed his back through the fabric of his shirt. You were all over him and it felt like your hands were everywhere. You were begging him to put down what he was doing and give you his undivided attention.

“Fine,” he responded in mock annoyance, rolling his eyes and putting his things away. He turned, maneuvering his body so he was facing you. “What do you want me to do?”

You pouted. “I don’t know. I’m bored. Let’s lay down and cuddle. Please?”

The scene shifted. You two were lying in bed, facing each other. You were eye to eye, arms thrown over each other. Zoro tucked your hair behind your ear, breathless. He was enamored, entranced by your beauty and admiration. Your hand was placed under his shirt, resting on his side. The skin contact felt electric. You leaned in and started to pepper his face with kisses—a recurring theme in these dreams. He must have really wanted that.

He closed his eyes.

You first brushed your lips lightly over his, and then you moved to kiss all over one of his cheeks, all over his forehead, his other cheek, his chin, his nose, his eyes, his jawline, ending at his lips again. You nuzzled his nose, ran your fingers through his hair—it was like you couldn’t get enough of him. Your lips were soft, meeting his delicately. When you pulled away from him. You held eye contact, an affectionate smile playing across your lips. He smelled you, felt you, and felt enveloped by you.

Zoro leaned in and kissed your forehead. You giggled and pulled him closer.

He could feel himself starting to say something in the dream, working up the nerve to say something that made his heart feel like it would stop. The words were getting caught in his mouth, they felt like they were taking forever to form…

They were words he almost said to you once before in a dream. He forced them out through his cotton mouth and hesitation.

“I love you.”

When the words left his lips, that twisting feeling happened inside of him so intensely that it must have detonated something. Each piece of shrapnel sent bolts of lightning through his body; he felt like he was vibrating, euphoric, every nerve on fire. He couldn’t breathe.

The dream version of you looked into his eyes and nodded. “I know you do, Zoro. I see you.”

Buzzing, Zoro felt like he wanted to rip his heart out of his chest and give it to you. He wanted you to see him, to see every part of him, to bare his soul to you and say ‘look, here is everything in me, here is every part of me.’

You were about to pull him into another kiss before he awoke up with a start, sweating and practically shaking.

Zoro’s heart was beating out of his chest. He sat up. Immediately, his first instinct was to check whether or not you were really in his bed. You weren’t—to both his relief and disappointment. He checked the time—3:36AM. Far too early. But he couldn’t fall back asleep now, not when his heart was pounding like this.

Why did he tell you he loved you?

It would be an understatement to say that Zoro’s mind was racing. He recalled that in one of his first dreams he wondered if you would still feel lonely if he embraced you. But if he did more than embrace you, if he gave all of himself to you, what then? What would you feel if he did that?

Would you stop feeling lonely and sad if he gave everything to you, even his heart? Would you give him yours, in return?

He ruminated on the concept of giving all of himself to you. What did that mean, and why did the thought pass through his mind when he was dreaming?

To give you all of him, for you to see every part of him�� was that love? Is this what it meant to love? If giving you every part of himself meant spending every moment with you that he could, kissing and caressing you, making you feel better, listening to every word you stored up inside, sharing every word he stored up inside… The realization hit him like a train.

He wanted that. He ardently wanted to fill in the hole that loneliness had carved out of your life. And he realized that there was one in his life, as well. A lacuna of would-be companionship that he had forever thought was out of reach.

Could he give you what you needed? Is that what love is? To share yourself with someone else, to want them, to cherish them, care for them, see them for who they are?

He wanted to give you all of him. He didn’t want you to feel lonely, sad, or distressed ever again. He wanted to always be there, he wanted you to know you could tell him anything, wanted to know you like the back of his hand, and he wanted you to know him like that, too.

Zoro understood now what that twisting, thumping feeling inside of him was. No, it wasn’t arrythmia, or indigestion, or anything of the sort—it had been lying low for months, boiling under the surface. It all clicked into place.

That stirring and twisting feeling? It was the feeling of that lock inside of him breaking into a million pieces. The lock around his heart that prevented him from wanting to love and from knowing how to… it was gone now, obliterated.

That impenetrable lock, the lead chains, the crushing weight of it…  He used to think that the key to that lock didn’t exist. But now that you were here, Zoro realized that you were the missing key. You were the one capable of ripping open that relentless opacity, that stoicism, that brick of pain that he tried to ignore and train away. You had ripped it to shreds, like it was nothing. You did it over the course of many months, many days, and even in his sleep.

Zoro realized that he was in love with you.

He wanted to recognize you completely and absolutely, and for you to do the same to him.

Zoro wanted to take showers with you and take turns shampooing each other’s hair. He wanted to hold your hand in public, feeling and seeing nothing else but you. He wanted to come home after a long day and hold you tight, kiss you and call you sweet names. He wanted to nuzzle your nose every day and drink up every smile like he was starving for it.

To think that you were so sad and lonely you cried? That shattered him. Hearing you be so vocal about it, seeing a different side of you that he never knew before—maybe he never felt this emotion until he met you for a reason. Now that the pieces were falling into place, he saw that it was you. It was always you. It was only you. It would only be you forever.

He did not have another dream about you for three nights.

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taglist: @riftmage27 @eggrollforyou @imhwajaez @wiyenspanel @xxmysticxxx @moonmaiden1996

a/n: thanks so much for reading! part 3 is going to be a minute - lmk if you want to be on the taglist! i have yet to write (most of) it.

[aventurineswife]

Reader has been away visiting their family members who happen to live in a different country (Modern au?). The visit was quite long, lasting for almost a month. They obviously kept in touch with their partner, sending them messages daily. Calling daily, and even fave timing and showing them what they were doing. But that didn't make the distance any harder. They missed their partners terribly and couldn't wait to be back with them. So imagine the surprise of their partner when the reader finally came back and earlier than the time they gave. That deserves a special kind of celebration, no? (Suggestive?) (Dang heng since you went crazy for him yesterday, Aventurine, Veritas, and Kaveh together, and you pick the last character!)

“Though Miles Apart, Our Hearts Were Always One”

Tags: Dan Heng x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Kaveh x Reader x Ratio, Modern AU, Fluff, Romance, Reunion, Long-Distance Relationship, Suggestive Content, Emotional Intimacy, Established Relationship, Surprise Visit, Mild Angst (Missing Each Other), Humor (Light-Hearted Moments).

Warnings: Suggestive Themes (nothing explicit, but implied intimacy), Mild Emotional Angst (due to separation/missing their partner), Mention of alcohol (for Aventurine), Brief Depiction of Personal Insecurities(?).

A/N: SHHHH!! 🤭 I wish I could write smut...🧍‍♀️😪 Oh well

The night was quiet, save for the rhythmic hum of rain against the windowpanes of Dan Heng's apartment. He sat in his room, surrounded by the comforting stillness he often sought after long days. His phone rested on the desk beside him, displaying your last message: "I’ll be home in a few days. Can’t wait to see you again, my love."

He sighed, brushing a hand through his hair. Even though you had kept in touch with daily calls and messages, the physical absence weighed heavily on him. He missed your presence—the way you brought warmth and light into his world. He didn’t like to admit how often he lingered on your texts, scrolling through your photos, cherishing the sound of your voice in his memory.

The front door creaked open. Dan Heng froze. No one else had a key to his apartment. His heart quickened as footsteps echoed in the hallway.

And then he saw you, standing there, soaked from the rain but glowing with excitement. “I’m home,” you said softly.

Dan Heng stood abruptly, his usual composed demeanor slipping as he strode toward you. He stopped just short of touching you, as if afraid this was a dream.

“You’re early,” he murmured, his voice low.

“I couldn’t wait any longer,” you admitted, stepping closer.

That was all it took. Dan Heng pulled you into his arms, his spear-like restraint shattered. He buried his face in your shoulder, his grip firm but tender.

“You should’ve called,” he said softly, his breath warm against your skin.

“Wouldn’t have been a surprise then, would it?” you teased.

Dan Heng chuckled lightly—a sound you’d missed more than you realized. His hands slipped to your waist, his touch growing bolder as his lips found yours in a kiss that was all-consuming, filled with the longing of weeks apart.

The night stretched on as he showed you just how much he’d missed you, his usually reserved nature giving way to passion and tenderness in equal measure.

Aventurine lounged in his private suite, a glass of fine whiskey in one hand, his other idly twirling a poker chip. The city skyline stretched out before him, glittering like a sea of stars. His mind, however, wasn’t on his game or his drink—it was on you.

He sighed dramatically, tossing the poker chip onto the table. “What’s the point of winning if I can’t share it with my favorite lucky charm?” he muttered. Your daily calls had kept him sane during your trip, but they weren’t enough. He craved your presence, your laughter, the way you teased him for his flamboyance.

A knock on the door broke his reverie. Aventurine frowned. He wasn’t expecting anyone. Rising with a lazy grace, he crossed the room and opened the door.

There you were, grinning like a gambler who’d just hit the jackpot.

“Surprise!” you said, throwing your arms around him.

Aventurine laughed, the sound rich and genuine. “Darling, you nearly gave me a heart attack,” he teased, pulling you inside. “Do you know how dull life has been without you? My games have been off, my drinks less sweet. But now…”

He spun you around, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Now, I think it’s time we celebrated properly.”

Before you could reply, he swept you into his arms, carrying you toward the plush couch. His kisses were slow and deliberate, each one more intoxicating than the last.

“You’re not leaving me again anytime soon, are you?” he murmured against your lips.

“Not a chance,” you promised, tangling your fingers in his hair.

The shared apartment was unusually quiet. Ratio sat in the library, a book in hand, while Kaveh paced the living room, grumbling about a design flaw in one of his projects. Despite their contrasting personalities, they had settled into a comfortable rhythm during your absence. Still, both men missed you dearly, their days feeling incomplete without your presence.

Kaveh sighed, flopping onto the couch. “Do you think they’ll call tonight?”

“They always do,” Ratio replied without looking up from his book.

But tonight, your call never came. Instead, the door creaked open.

Kaveh was the first to notice, his eyes widening in surprise. “Wait… is that—”

“Miss me?” you asked, stepping into the room with a grin.

Ratio’s book snapped shut as he stood, his eyes sharp with disbelief. “You’re early,” he said, his tone calm but his expression betraying his excitement.

Kaveh was less composed, rushing forward to sweep you into a tight hug. “You have no idea how much we missed you!”

Ratio joined a moment later, his touch more reserved but no less meaningful. “You should’ve informed us. We would’ve prepared something special.”

“This is better,” you said, pulling them both close.

Kaveh chuckled. “Guess we’ll have to improvise.”

The night that followed was a mix of laughter, teasing, and tender moments. Kaveh’s kisses were fervent and emotional, while Ratio’s were measured and intense, each touch and glance revealing how much they had missed you. Together, they made sure you felt the depth of their love, the three of you reunited in a harmony that needed no words.

[wondergirlsthings]

Late Nights and Lingering Stares

Lando Norris x Reader

The hum of the city at night was soothing, a stark contrast to the roaring engines and chaotic paddocks you had grown used to in the world of Formula 1. Lando had convinced you to join him in Monaco for a few days, promising you a break from the usual madness. Tonight, he had planned a casual dinner with a small group of friends at his favorite rooftop restaurant.

You slipped into a sleek black dress, the satin fabric hugging your figure and flowing elegantly as you moved. It was simple but undeniably striking, and you couldn’t help but feel confident as you adjusted your earrings in the mirror.

“Wow.”

You turned to see Lando standing in the doorway, his eyes wide and a slightly stunned expression on his face. He was dressed in a tailored navy suit, his hair slightly tousled in that effortlessly charming way he always managed to pull off.

“You clean up well, Norris,” you teased, walking toward him.

“And you…” He let out a low whistle, his gaze trailing over you appreciatively. “You’re going to be the talk of the night.”

You laughed, brushing past him to grab your clutch. “Hardly. You’re the star here, remember? I’m just the plus one.”

He frowned, stepping closer and gently taking your hand. “Don’t say that. You’re more than that, Y/N. Trust me, no one’s going to be looking at me tonight.”

His words sent a warm flush to your cheeks, and you smiled up at him. “Ready to go?”

He nodded, still looking at you like he couldn’t believe his luck.

————————————————————

The restaurant was everything Lando had promised—intimate, luxurious, and offering a breathtaking view of Monaco’s glittering skyline. The group settled in quickly, laughter and conversation flowing easily. But Lando, you noticed, was quieter than usual.

At first, you thought it was the long season catching up to him. Then you caught the way his eyes flickered to a guy across the table—a friend of a friend—who had been talking to you a little too enthusiastically.

You leaned in closer to Lando, brushing your hand against his under the table. “You okay?” you whispered.

He nodded, but his jaw was tight. “I’m fine.”

“Lando…” you pressed, giving him a knowing look.

He sighed, leaning in to whisper back. “It’s nothing. I just don’t like the way he’s looking at you.”

You glanced at the guy, who was now laughing at something someone else had said, and then back at Lando. “You’re jealous,” you teased, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“I’m not jealous,” he protested, though the pink in his cheeks betrayed him. “I just… don’t like it. That’s all.”

You squeezed his hand, your smile softening. “Lando, I’m here with you. No one else matters. You don’t need to worry.”

He relaxed slightly, his shoulders losing some of their tension. “I know. I just can’t help it sometimes. You’re… you.”

“And I’m yours,” you reminded him gently, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

The rest of the night passed more smoothly, with Lando staying close to your side, his arm draped protectively around your chair. As you left the restaurant, he laced his fingers with yours, pulling you closer as the cool night air surrounded you.

“Thanks for putting up with me,” he said, his tone light but sincere.

“Always,” you replied, smiling up at him. “But you should know by now—you don’t have anything to worry about. I’m all yours, Lando.”

He grinned, his eyes twinkling under the streetlights. “Good. Because I’m not letting you go.”

[loveandleases]

Here's G version, of this ask.

Shit, you're nervous. Each second that G remains quiet, each passing glance pulling another thread of your resolve.

Their fingers glide along the curve of your spine, brushing against the delicate fabric that kisses your skin. You wanted to look good – irresistible even. To see their composure crack, feel that glimmer of heat in their touch and lips that finds you late at night.

You’ve craved to feel their breath fanning your thighs again, and your fingers pulling at their hair like it did in Em’s kitchen. When G looked up at you, lips – swollen, slick. A perfect example of aroused and enamored.

They pull you against their chest, their warm breath against the shell of your ear. “Why did you choose this outfit?” Their fingers brush against the corseted ties holding your pants together, a single tug away from being undone.

Your breath hitches as you feel their fingers along the sliver of skin left uncovered. “Do you not like it?” you say far more breathless than you intended.

God, this is cruel. The way you can see the corners of their eyes lift with their smile as they press their cheek against yours. Tilting your head to the side with their other hand.

G shakes their head and for a moment, your heart drops. You don’t want to admit you care that they dislike your outfit. But you did pick it out in hopes it would stir something up within them. G can be so hot and cold; that it drives you crazy. Their touch, the way they lower their voice so that it affects you more, yet their words are the opposite.

Sometimes you wondered if it was their way of toying with you, wanting you to argue to make the air around you tense and heated. Only to have the two of you crash into one another later.

“I hate it.” They whisper, their lips brushing your skin but not giving way to a kiss.

There’s no hiding your disappointment, your voice practically drips of it. “Why?”

G’s fingers ghost against the ties, taunting. Always taunting. Each brush ignites a battle of push and pull, of temptation and restraint. Their fingers shift, and for a moment you think they’ll undo them. Leave you bare.

But the more you’ve come to know G. The more you’ve learned how hard they deny themselves what they want. Be that you, or anything else. Always putting themselves last. So, maybe just this once, you’ll remove that struggle of indecision. Refuse to let them straddle the line. Your hands cover theirs, refusing to let them move from the ties.

“Tell me,” you press, voice steady despite the pounding in your chest. “Why do you hate it.”

“Because…” Their pulse races beneath your touch. “Because it’s making it hard to think. You make it hard to think.

It’s a good reason, knowing how much G likes to be in control of themselves. Everything was thought out and easily predicted. Nothing to get in their way, or their plans. Well, their parents’ plans.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It is.”

“Why?”

“Because it scares me.” They whisper, voice raw. “Wanting you, letting you in. It all scares me, thinking I have a choice.”

“You do.”

“Not for most things.” They admit, as their sturdy walls crumble. “My father made sure of that. Go to school, and become a surgeon. Follow in his footsteps. Follow his plan. Always his plan.”

“And me?”

G’s breath catches, “I couldn’t have planned for you in my wildest dreams. And now… now I’m looking at my future, and the only thing I’m sure of is that I want you in it. I don’t care about the rest, and it terrifies me.”

“I want you there too. In my future.” And you couldn’t mean it more, not when you turn to look in their eyes. Eyes that were once full of suspicion, and cold. Now so trusting, and warm. And only looking at you, always at you.

“You really mean that?”

There’s no hesitation in your nod. No hesitation when your lips meet and G sinks into them. Relaxing against the heat of your body and the taste of your kiss.

That tension from earlier returns, with each flick of a tongue and each pass of G’s hand along the ties of your pants. G’s fingers brush along your thighs, growing braver. As you pull away, to catch your breath, you see the question in their eyes. And watch as it vanishes when your hands cover theirs, tugging lightly at the ties. Encouraging them to make their choice.

And they do, boldy. Despite the tremor in their fingers, despite the fear of what comes next. One pull is all it takes for them to put themselves, what they want, who they want. First.

[peachdues]

euology

The wake begins with a clink of your wine glass against his.

By all accounts, the two of you are enjoying a romantic meal at one of this town’s finest restaurants. Tengen Uzui and extravagance go hand-in-hand, and this restaurant is certainly that. Extravagant; all starched linens and rich mahogany, the polished silverware suffused by candlelight. The intimate ambience is highlighted by the soft, melodic harmony from the restaurant’s pianist, and though the tables are filled, no one dares raise their voice above a low murmur.

Tengen looks as beautiful as he always does, dressed in a deep shade of plum that matches his eyes. This suit is a favorite of yours, one you’d picked out for him to wear to a wedding one or two summers back. You hadn’t noticed it back then, but the rich purple brings out the most subtle tints of blue in his hair, making him more impossibly attractive than he already is.

Then again, you suppose it’s easier to pick up on these small details, here at the end of all things. You’ve only got so long left to drink them in.

But no one else would suspect the truth you both know. No, you can’t imagine anyone would look at the two of you — you, leaned forward, fingers curled around the delicate stem of your wine glass; Tengen, leaned back in his upholstered chair, his elbow perched on its back and his ankle resting on his opposite knee — and not think you were a beautiful couple in a room full of other beautiful couples, enjoying a luxurious night out.

You’ve dressed up too, even going so far as to carefully apply concealer to the dark circles that have imprinted themselves beneath your eyes over the last few days. You came here in the same car, for old time’s sake. Tengen opened doors for you at all the right times, and even pulled out the chair for you, like the perfect gentleman he is.

But the moment the check is signed and the bill is paid, the moment you step foot outside this last sanctuary and into the new world, Tengen will hail you a cab. Once he’s ensured you’re safely tucked into the backseat and your driver has the right address, he will close the door and send you off. He will take a different cab.

And then, you will go your separate ways.

Tengen, to the hotel he’s been living out of for the last few days, his new lease not due to kick in until next week.

And you? You will return to the apartment you once shared together, and you will try not to linger too long on the pile of boxes by the front door. The ones all marked with his scraggly handwriting — clothes, books, jewelry.

But right now, the two of you are here; now, dressed in your nightly best and sharing a bottle of wine. It’s no wonder your waitress cheerfully asks what special occasion you happen to be celebrating. Maybe her face falls when neither of you bother to answer, instead sharing only a single, glance as comforting as it is wistful, but you make an effort not to notice. Because this dinner has nothing to do with celebration.

It seems only fitting that this be the place to eulogize the love that bloomed over cheaper wine and appetizer plates ordered in lieu of entrees; to mark the end of that wonderful beginning.

A last rite.

You focus on your half-filled wine glass; pretend that your attention is drawn only to the swirl of maroon liquid and not the persistent burn in your eyes.

The merlot sliding down your throat is dry enough to make you wince, but that’s exactly why you like it. Its sharpness keeps you alert just as much as it prevents you from plowing through it too quickly. The easier wine goes down means the easier it is for you to get drunk, and now is not the time. You’ll save that for later, when it’s just you in the apartment and the low sound of the television you’ll leave on just to keep your loneliness at bay.

Tengen had tried to order you a bottle of red moscato when you arrived, the very wine you’d ordered that first date. It was a nice gesture; proof that he’d known you, at least, once upon a time.

But, as you’d gently corrected him before the unwitting server, you drink Merlot, now.

He hadn’t been mad; he’d only offered you a wistful smile, his eyes crinkling with knowledge of the unspoken weight your words carried.

Your tastes have changed since then; both of yours have.

Nothing to be done about it, of course. It’s the risk every couple who decides to fall in love must take, and there are only two outcomes. It just so happens your luck of the draw is the one that doesn’t involve aisle trips and flowers and I dos. Instead, it comes to a close with a funeral for the love the two of you undoubtedly share, but is no longer enough to keep your unit alive.

There’s still a great deal of love between you, of course, and in an ideal world, that would be enough. If love truly conquered all, then this rift between you would have never morphed into the mortal wound that’s brought you both to death’s door. There never would have been a rift, to begin with. Love would have healed all the things that made it grow — like your impatience with his overly guarded nature, or his frustration over your inability to understand there were just some things he couldn’t share with you. Couldn’t share with anyone.

If love had been enough to heal those scabs, then they never would have blistered in the first place. Better to celebrate the natural end of things instead of waiting until it festers into resentment. You couldn’t bear his hatred anymore than he could yours.

You think back to the night it all ended; he’d been the one to reach for you after your tearful admission that this wasn’t working anymore, and it hadn’t for a long time. He hadn’t tried to change your mind, and you hadn’t tried to convince him to; instead, Tengen only held you close, his tears dampening your hairline while yours soaked his shirt.

Does he dread the end of dinner as much as you do? He must, if he’s wearing that suit while looking at you the way he is: with a gentle, closed lip smile and eyes hungrily searching every detail of your face, committing you to memory along with every other facet of your relationship. After all, you’re doing the same thing to him, just over the rim of your glass.

It is one thing to know, deep in your heart, that this step is the right one, but it is quite another to take it. Disentangling your roots from the person you’ve spent the last few years building your life around suddenly seems all the more difficult.

And yet, his boxes are packed. You’ve already moved your pillows to the center of the bed, filled the empty space in your closet with sweaters you used to fold.

Letting go isn’t the hard part; you’d accepted that was necessary a long time ago. It’s knowing you now have to figure out how to live without that piece of you, that has your chest splintering.

Tengen’s gaze tightens as he notes the ways your eyes glisten not from the soft candlelight, but from the tears you no longer can hold back.

“It’ll be all right,” he murmurs in that wonderfully reassuring way that only makes the lump in your throat grow larger. “No more crying, beautiful.”

He lays his arm atop the white tablecloth and turns his palm up. His fingers are loose, but they’re curled toward you, beckoning for you to indulge him, one last time.

Your eyes dart between his hand and his apologetic smile. How he thinks he has anything to apologize is beyond you; neither of you are responsible for this death. It just simply is.

Still, his touch and all its comfort will only be familiar a little while longer. You might as well savor it before he becomes a stranger again.

So, with a watery smile, you set your wine glass down.

And you place your hand in his.

[ialreadymadeyouapromise]

𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐃, 𝐘𝐎𝐔.

PAIRING: abby anderson x fem!reader WARNINGS: trauma, no use of y/n GENRE: angst, fluff SONG INSPIRATION: do i wanna know? - arctic monkey (hozier cover) WORD COUNT: 3.8k

navigation | inbox | abby anderson masterlist

the crackle of dry leaves beneath your boots was the only sound that accompanied you as you stumbled through the forest, every step heavier than the last. hunger clawed at your stomach, and your limbs ached with exhaustion. 

the air was thick with tension, the kind that pressed against your chest and made it hard to breathe. you knew you were walking straight into danger, but you didn’t care anymore. anything was better than the nothing you’d been left with.

an outpost tower came into view, and you stopped, heart pounding. armed figures patrolled the perimeter. tall, broad, alert. even from this distance, you could tell they were disciplined, a group that didn’t tolerate weakness. your throat tightened.

you clutched the strap of your backpack, a pitiful collection of scraps you’d managed to scavenge. 

you had no plan, no real hope, but you had a voice.

with trembling hands, you stepped out of the tree line.

“wait!”

a warning shout rang out before you could take another step. the guards raised their weapons, aiming at you. panic surged in your chest, but you forced yourself to keep your hands up, your voice steady.

“don’t shoot! i’m not armed!” you dropped to your knees, your legs too weak to hold you up anymore. “i’m–please, i need help. i can’t do this anymore. i can’t–” your voice cracked, breaking into a sob.

a figure emerged from the group, her silhouette cutting through the harsh light of the setting sun. tall, muscular, she held a rifle with a practiced ease. her face was shadowed, but you caught the glint of sharp eyes watching you, assessing every move you made.

“who’s with you?” she asked, her voice calm but firm.

“just–it’s just me,” you managed, barely above a whisper. “i don’t have anyone left. i swear. no weapons, no traps. i just–i can’t keep doing this alone. please.”

her gaze lingered on you, cautious. another guard, a man with a gruff voice, spoke up. “could be a setup. we’ve seen this before.”

“it’s not,” you croaked, shaking your head. “i’m not lying. i don’t care what you do to me–lock me up, whatever. just please don’t send me back out there.”

the woman stepped closer, her boots crunching against the gravel. you flinched when she crouched in front of you, her rifle resting across her knees.

finally, the fading sunlight illuminated her features. blonde hair tied back in a braid, sharp jawline, a scar running just below her cheekbone. her expression was unreadable, but there was something in her eyes that wasn’t outright hostility.

“what’s your name?” she asked.

you blinked, taken aback by the softness of the question. you gave her it.

she repeated it. then, after a beat, she sighed and straightened up, motioning to the others. “bring her in. she looks like she’s about to keel over.”

“what?” one of the guards protested. “abby, this could–”

“she’s not a threat,” abby said firmly, cutting him off. “if she is, we’ll deal with it. but look at her.” she gestured to your gaunt frame, the hollow look in your eyes. “she’s not making it another night out there.”

strong arms hauled you to your feet, and you didn’t resist, too drained to even register fear. abby stayed close, her eyes on you, and you couldn’t tell if it was caution or something else.

“thank you,” you whispered, but she didn’t respond.

“let’s go,” she said, her tone brisk.

as they guided you toward their camp, your legs trembling with each step, you couldn’t shake the feeling of her eyes lingering on you. stern yet measured, like she was already trying to figure you out.

the first week at the base felt like you were living on borrowed time. the walls, though sturdy and fortified, didn’t feel like protection. they felt like a trap. you were constantly on edge, your heart racing at every loud noise, every glance from the group.

you kept expecting them to change their minds, to decide you weren’t worth the food you ate or the cot that you slept on. so, you planned ahead in the only way you knew how. 

at every meal, you shoved wrapped up scraps of food into your pockets when you thought no one was looking, a slice of bread here, a handful of dried fruit there. it was never much, just enough to keep you going if they threw you out. you couldn’t stop yourself, the instinct to prepare for the worst deeply ingrained after months of going hungry.

the first time you were caught, you froze, heart pounding in your chest. it was abby who noticed. she’d walked into the mess hall and found you slipping a biscuit into your jacket.

“what are you doing?” she asked, her voice calm but stern enough to cut through your panic.

you stammered out a weak excuse, your words fumbling over themselves. “i–i just… i didn’t know how much there was to go around. i didn’t want to take too much.”

she tilted her head, studying you. for a moment, you were sure she’d yell, that this was the mistake that would get you sent packing. but she didn’t.

“you don’t have to do that here,” she said finally, her tone softer. “we have enough. you don’t have to take more than you need.”

you nodded, but you didn’t stop, not completely. the fear of scarcity, of rejection, was too deeply rooted. you thought she didn’t notice, but she did. she always did.

despite your skittishness, the group treated you kindly. stern, cautious, but kind. they didn’t push you to talk about what you’d been through, didn’t press when you flinched at sudden movements or avoided certain people. they gave you space to adjust, to heal, in a way you hadn’t expected.

abby, though, was different. she didn’t hover, didn’t fuss. but you caught her watching sometimes, a quiet presence in the background. 

at first, you thought she might be the one most likely to push you out, but as the weeks turned into months, you realised how wrong you were.

it started with little things. how she’d speak up when others questioned your value to the group. “she’s been pulling her weight,” she’d say, her tone leaving no room for argument. 

when one of the guys made a crude comment, abby shut him down with a glare.

the first time you saw her step between you and someone else, your chest tightened with something unfamiliar, safety.

you started to gravitate toward her without meaning to. 

at first, you’d linger nearby when she was working, just close enough to hear her voice but not close enough to draw attention. there was something about her that pulled you in. the way she carried herself, strong and sure, like nothing could knock her.

you didn’t know if it was admiration, curiosity, or something more, but you couldn’t stay away.

it took weeks for her to notice. abby was busy. always moving, always working. but one day, as she stacked crates near the supply shed, she paused and looked up.

“you following me, or is this a coincidence?” she asked, her voice light.

you froze, your face heating up as you fumbled for a response. “i–uh, no. i mean, i’m just… around.”

she raised an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “uh-huh. just around, huh?”

you shrugged, trying to play it off, but your breathing gave it away.

“well,” she said, turning back to the crates, “you’re welcome to stick around. just don’t let anyone rope you into lifting these. they’re heavier than they look.”

her words were casual, but they sent a warmth through you that you couldn’t quite explain. 

from that moment on, you let yourself drift closer. and abby, whether she realised it or not, let you.

the first few months at the base were a slow unraveling of your fears, but some nights, the nightmares still dragged you under. they’d pull you awake, your chest heaving, your shirt damp with cold sweat. 

those were the hours you felt most alone, even surrounded by people. the hours when the silence pressed too heavily on you to go back to sleep.

that was how you first found the gym.

you’d stumbled across it during one of those restless nights, your boots padding softly on the worn floors as you wandered. it wasn’t a big space, but it was well equipped. treadmills, exercise bikes, free weights, and racks of neatly organized dumbbells. 

it was always bustling during the day, filled with grunts, and the rhythmic clang of weights being racked. but in the early hours, it was silent. empty. peaceful.

so, you started going. 

at first, you stuck to the treadmill or the exercise bikes, not really sure what else to do. you liked the way your body felt when you moved, how the motion shook off the residual fear from your dreams. but your eyes always wandered to the weights.

to the heavy iron plates and bars, to the pull-up rigs and kettlebells. you weren’t brave enough to touch them yet, but something about them called to you.

you wanted to be strong. strong enough to stop flinching at shadows, to stop hiding food in your pockets. strong enough to believe that you could survive, not just scrape by, but live.

what you didn’t know was that the gym was also abby’s refuge, too. she didn’t need much sleep, not after years of soldiering through grueling training and missions. when the weight of the world felt like too much, she turned to the weights, pushing herself until her muscles screamed, until she couldn’t think about anything but the next rep.

she’d taken to going in the early mornings, long before anyone else woke up. it was her time, her sanctuary, and she liked having it to herself. so the first time she stepped into the gym and saw you there, it startled her.

you were on the treadmill, your pace steady, your focus intense. abby paused in the doorway, her brow furrowing. she hadn’t expected anyone else to be awake, let alone here. for a moment, she debated leaving. this was your space now, she figured. but something made her stay, leaning against the wall as she watched you for a second.

“you’re up early,” she said finally, her voice breaking the quiet.

you jumped, nearly stumbling on the treadmill. your head whipped around, eyes wide, but when you saw it was her, the tension in your shoulders eased. “so are you,” you said, a little breathless.

abby stepped closer, her lips quirking in a faint smirk. “yeah, well, old habits die hard. could say the same about you.”

you looked away, wiping the sweat from your brow. “couldn’t sleep,” you admitted.

she nodded, understanding flickering in her gaze. “yeah. i get that.”

there was a beat of silence before she asked, “you been coming here long?”

“couple weeks,” you said. “figured… might as well try something new. clear my head, you know?”

abby smiled at that, small but genuine. “good idea. you’re doing good. just don’t overdo it.” she gestured toward the weights. “you thinking about trying those out?”

you hesitated, glancing toward the dumbbells like they were some forbidden fruit. “maybe. don’t really know what i’m doing, though.”

she chuckled softly, stepping toward the rack. “no one does when they start. but if you want some pointers… i could show you.”

your chest fluttered at the offer. you nodded before you could talk yourself out of it. “yeah. that’d be good.”

and that was how it started.

the weeks that followed brought you and abby even closer. it wasn’t something you could pinpoint to a specific moment, but you felt it growing. an almost tangible pull between the two of you. it was in the way she lingered just a little longer after your workouts, offering to walk you back to your room even though you knew she didn’t need to. 

it was in the way she always placed herself between you and any danger, big or small.

and it was in you, too. you couldn’t deny the way your chest eased when you saw her, especially before supply runs. those always left you anxious. the idea of venturing out into the world again, even with backup, made your stomach twist. but whenever abby’s name was on the list alongside yours, you felt a sense of calm settle over you. her presence made you feel safer than you ever thought possible.

there were smaller moments too. moments you held close. like when she handed you her canteen on a long hike back to camp, even though you knew she must have been thirsty too. or the way her voice softened when she asked if you’d eaten, making sure you took care of yourself in ways you’d long forgotten how to.

and then there was the way she smiled. abby didn’t smile often, not fully, but when she did,.it had a way of catching you off guard, as if the room shifted slightly, pulling you into her orbit. you didn’t even realise you’d been watching for those rare smiles until you caught yourself staring one day.

but as much as abby’s presence brought you comfort, it also brought fear. fear of losing her. that fear came to life one night in the form of a nightmare.

it wasn’t like the dreams you used to have, the ones of the people you’d lost and the horrors you’d seen. this one was different. it was worse.

you dreamed of abby lying in your arms, her body broken and bloody, her breaths shallow and wet. you were screaming her name, begging her to hold on, but her eyes were glazing over, her strength slipping away with every passing second.

her lips moved, but you couldn’t hear her over the pounding in your ears, the desperate, ragged sobs ripping from your throat. you held her tighter, trying to keep her there, trying to will her to stay alive, but she slipped away from you.

the sound of her final breath shattered something inside you, and you woke up gasping, tears streaming down your face as your chest heaved with panic.

you ripped the covers off, your hands trembling as you sat up. it wasn’t real. it wasn’t real–but the weight of it clung to you, suffocating. the thought of losing her, of not being able to protect her, broke something in you.

you needed to see her. you needed to know she was okay.

you barely slid on your shoes as you stumbled out of your room, your breaths coming fast and uneven. the camp was quiet at this hour, the only sound was the faint rustle of the wind outside. you tried to keep your footsteps soft, not wanting to wake anyone, but your urgency made it hard to slow down.

when you reached abby’s door, you hesitated for a moment, your knuckles hovering above the wood. what if she was asleep? what if she thought you were being ridiculous? but the memory of her lifeless body in your arms sent a fresh wave of panic crashing over you, and you couldn’t stop yourself.

you knocked, soft but insistent, your other hand gripping the door frame as you fought to steady your breathing.

it took a moment, but then you heard movement inside, the sound of her footsteps on the floor. the door creaked open, and there she was, blinking at you with groggy confusion. her hair was loose and mussed from sleep, her expression soft but tinged with concern.

she whispered your name, her voice low and raspy from sleep. “what’s wrong? are you okay?”

the sight of her standing there, alive and whole, was enough to send fresh tears streaming down your cheeks. you let out a shaky breath, your hand flying up to cover your mouth as you tried to compose yourself.

her eyes widened, and she stepped closer, her hand resting gently on your shoulder. “hey, hey,” she said, her voice softening. “what happened? talk to me.”

“i–i just…” you shook your head, struggling to find the words as your chest heaved. “i had a dream. about you. and it–god, it felt so real, abby.”

her brow furrowed, and she guided you into her room, closing the door behind you. “what kind of dream?” she asked, her voice calm but laced with concern.

you sat down on the edge of her bed, your hands trembling in your lap as you tried to steady yourself. “you were hurt. dying. and i couldn’t… i couldn’t save you.” your voice broke, and you squeezed your eyes shut, willing the memory away.

abby knelt in front of you, her hands resting on your knees. “hey,” she said softly, her eyes locking onto yours. “i’m right here. i’m okay. i promise.”

her reassurance was steady, grounding, and you let out a shuddering breath, nodding as you met her gaze. “i know,” you whispered. “i know it wasn’t real, but it felt so… god, i’ve never been that scared in my life.”

abby’s expression softened even more, and she gave your knees a gentle squeeze. “i’m not going anywhere,” she said firmly, her voice steady as a rock. “i’ve made it through worse than whatever’s out there. you don’t have to worry about me.”

you nodded again, the weight in your chest easing just a little at her words. “i just… i couldn’t stay in my room. i had to see you.”

her lips twitched into a faint, tired smile. “i’m glad you did.”

for a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet settling around you. then, without thinking, you reached out and wrapped your arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug.

abby stiffened for a second, clearly surprised, but then she melted into your embrace, her arms wrapping around you just as tightly. she was warm. 

“thank you,” you whispered against her shoulder, your voice muffled.

“for what?”

“for being here,” you said simply.

abby pulled back just enough to meet your focus. “always,” she whispered back.

and in that moment, you knew you meant it when you said you’d do anything to keep her safe. 

anything.

abby noticed the tension in your shoulders, the way you flinched slightly. the way your breath still caught every so often, as if you were afraid to let go of the nightmare that had gripped you only moments ago. it didn’t sit right with her to let you leave like this, not when you were clearly shaken.

“stay,” she said gently, her voice steady, her concern evident as she gave your arm a gentle squeeze. “stay here tonight. i don’t want you to go back to your room like this.”

you hesitated, still feeling a little too vulnerable, but the warmth of her presence, the genuine concern in her voice, made it hard to resist. your heart was still racing, but she was right. you didn’t want to be alone. you needed her comfort, even if it was just in silence.

“okay,” you whispered, your voice shaky as you glanced at her.

without a word, abby moved toward the bed, getting in, pulling the covers back and patting the space next to her. “come on,” she said softly, the invitation clear in her eyes.

you climbed into the bed, your body still trembling slightly, but it was different now. the tension had started to ease the moment you were near her again. abby settled beside you, the weight of her body next to yours offering a sense of calm. the covers were pulled up to your chests.

for a few moments, neither of you spoke, just the sound of your breathing filling the quiet of the room. you tried to close your eyes, but the unease still lingered. the memory of the nightmare was too fresh, it’s image too vivid. it had shaken you in a way that made sleep seem dangerous.

abby must have noticed the slight frown on your face, the way your lips were almost pouting in a way that made her heart ache. she watched you for a moment, deciding.

she reached out with a careful hand, her fingers brushing against your temple in a slow, gentle touch. you didn’t pull away. you let her fingers trace down the side of your face, over your cheek, and down to your jawline. the softness of the gesture was something you hadn’t expected, and yet, it was exactly what you needed.

the warmth of her touch seemed to melt the knot in your chest. it felt like she was grounding you, like she was telling you without words that you were safe. as she continued the motion, you felt your lips slowly pull into a small, relaxed smile.

her touch had always been gentle, but now it carried a quiet kind of affection that made a warmth spread through your chest, not out of fear, but something else.

when your eyes flickered open, you saw her face just inches from yours. her lips were parted slightly in a smile.

“better?” she asked.

you nodded, the tension in your body melting further as your eyes drooped with exhaustion. “yeah. much better.”

abby smiled back, a hint of relief as she adjusted the covers around you both, pulling them up higher as she nestled in closer. her arm was now around your waist, pulling you into her a little more, the heat from her body comforting you.

you felt her sigh softly against your neck, the rhythm of her breathing slow and even. it was easy to let go then, to let the warmth of her presence lull you into a sense of safety.

“sleep,” she murmured, her voice reassuring. “i’ve got you.”

you smiled again, your body relaxing into hers as you allowed your eyes to finally close. abby’s hand stayed on your face for a moment longer, as if she needed to make sure you were truly okay, before it moved to rest it back on your hip.

in the comfort of her embrace, the darkness no longer felt so overwhelming. the tension in your chest loosened, your mind slowly drifting as the exhaustion took over. and for the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself drift into sleep, the nightmare of her slipping away now replaced by a new feeling, one of peace.

abby stayed awake a little longer, watching you with quiet care. she could feel your body settle into the rhythm of sleep, the way your breath evened out. there was something deeper, something that had been growing between the two of you for a while now.

but for now, she didn’t think about it too much. she simply let you sleep, keeping you close, 

keeping you safe.

reblogs and comments are appreciated ᯓ★

© ialreadymadeyouapromise 2025.

[sturniqloo]

° FRIENDSHIP WAS NEVER FRIENDSHIP °

pairing: Chris Sturniolo & fem!reader (friends to lovers)

in which: you felt a spark,but you thought it was just in your head.

~ warnings:not much honestly,fluff,kissing,makeout,not much details,English is not my first language! ~

You and Chris had been best friends for as long as you could remember.

From childhood pranks to late-night deep talks, you had experienced just about everything together. There was an undeniable chemistry between you two, something that felt different but natural,as if the universe had always meant for the two of you to be in each other’s lives.

For years, you’d always maintained that boundary—best friends,nothing more,nothing less. But as time went on, the line between friendship and something else blurred,and you couldn’t help but wonder if he felt it too. Chris had always been so easygoing, so playful, and at times a little bit reserved when it came to his emotions.

But something was different recently.

It all started a couple of months ago when you both started hanging out more often. Just the two of you, watching movies, grabbing coffee, and talking about things that you didn’t even share with anyone else.

It was one of those nights that changed everything.

It was late, and you were both at Chris’s place. You’d just finished watching a movie, and now you were sprawled on the couch,casually scrolling through your phone while Chris was lying beside you,his head resting on your shoulder.

“I’m kinda bored” Chris said with a soft chuckle.

You could feel the weight of his body against yours, the subtle warmth of his skin a reminder of how close you two had grown.

“You’re always bored” you teased, nudging him lightly with your elbow. He laughed,and you could feel his fingers brush against yours,almost like he was testing the waters.

“I don’t know… I just feel different lately” Chris murmured, his voice softer than usual.

You glanced over at him. “What do you mean?"

He hesitated for a moment, then sat up slightly, turning his head toward you.

“I don’t know… It’s just… when I’m around you, I feel like I’m not pretending. Like I can just be myself, you know?”

You nodded, trying to keep things casual.

“You’ve always been yourself around me, Chris.” Your voice slightly unsure for a reason you didn't know,but it held that little reassurance that made him feel better.

“I know” he said,his voice dropping lower.

“But lately…it’s different. Like,when I’m around you,I feel…safe. And sometimes,I just want to…let go, y’know?”

His words hung in the air for a moment,and for the first time,you felt an undercurrent of something more between the two of you. Something that had been building for a while but hadn’t been said out loud until now.

'let go...' - words that made your heart clench in a weird way,it was like a trigger.

You stayed quiet,unsure of how to respond. The room felt charged with a new energy, and you couldn’t ignore the way your heart beat just a little faster.

You noticed little things that Chris did in the past few days- no..weeks.—small gestures, moments where he seemed to seek you out more than usual, or when his touch lingered just a little too long. It was like he was testing the boundaries, pushing to see if you’d notice.

There was a long pause, and then Chris did something you didn’t expect. He looked up at you, his eyes wide and vulnerable, and for the first time, you saw a different side of him—one that wasn’t the usual playful, confident Chris, but something deeper. Something quieter.

Chris leaned in, his face close to yours, and his breath hitched slightly.

“I don’t know how to…how to make this right” he murmured. “But I want to. I really do. With you."

You took a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. You hadn’t expected this to be where things went, but now that it was here, you couldn’t ignore how you felt. You cared about Chris—deeply—and you knew that whatever this was, you were willing to explore it.

The atmosphere in the room shifted, and you both understood what was happening. There was no pressure, no expectations—just an unspoken agreement that whatever you two explored, it would be on your terms. And that made everything feel safe.

You leaned in, your lips brushing against his,the sudden touch so light but so..electric,it was like it was pulling you both against each other. Like a force. Soon enough it was more,you both fight for dominance in a heated makeout session,Chris's hands roaming all over you,touching...exploring.

The night ended like that. With you two laying cuddled up on the same couch it started...the same one where it was just playful flirting as a joke,now it was real. It was like a dream came true,for both you and Chris.

This was today,and no one could expect it would end like this,confessing and being real to each other,the friendship was never only friendship,it was always something more..but in secrets. Who knows what tomorrow can bring?

That felt like the beginning of something new. Something intimate, something tender.

author's note: this was little quick fluffy fic i had in my mind for some time! sorry of its not the best guys,but lmk what you think! and give me some ideas for more lmao. ♡

° Lili's corner °

no pressure tags: @chrislilcumslvt @adoreechxmpion @strnilolover @luvleyangeldust @luvrbrii @sturniioloslut @chrislova @cockettechris @pr3ttylittleslutt