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#i had thoughts! i needed to share the thoughts!
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Deathday Party
Part of this post series > link
Tim had no idea he was being courted by Danny and was making his way to an official engagement at this rate. What he did know was that Danny had invited him to an important party at the mansion of none other then Vlad Masters.
Danny had mentioned that his family and Masters had a rocky past but it had gotten better before he left for university. Tim wasn't convinced due to the stories Danny had offhandly mentioned. The guy had tried to out Danny to his parents and rallied the town against him. So excuse Tim for not wanting Danny to go back to a homophobic town like that and a bastard who did something so petty just because a kid's mom wouldn't sleep with you.
But Danny was his friend. The only normal friend he had who treated him like this. Sure he really likes giving gifts and has a fascination for flowers but that's all the more reason to look after him. It was pure luck that Tim befriended him before a cult did.
Tim was still going to supportive and still needed to make it up to Danny for not visiting Amity Park last time. So he packed and boarded the plane a few days before the party.
Danny began introducing Tim to everyone in his family. For the most part, it was a warm welcome. Danny's dad told him that they would have to sleep in separate rooms because "He knows how boys could be and there will be no funny business."
Tim was indignant but reminded himself to be polite. Danny's dad may not be the most accepting of LGBT people but this was his home.
Danny only blushed and brushed his dad off, after all, he and Tim hadn't even kissed yet.
Danny's friends were cool though. Sam was definitely the source of Danny's gothic tendencies. She and Danny discussed herbs, crystals, and graveyards together while Tim got to know Tucker.
The next day they went to the Masters' estate and Tim met Danny's other family. Dani or Elle was Danny's little sister or cousin or something. It was confusing but she immediately took a liking to Tim.
"Ooo, he's cute~ You dont mind sharing right Danny?" She teased linking arms with Tim.
"Knock it off Elle. He's too old for you anyway and if Vlad heard you he'd set Tim on fire." Danny admonished her pulling her off by the hoodie.
Tim didn't catch that Danny was being completely serious about the fire part.
Vlad Masters would be out of the house until the party that night but the mansion was being set up for the event. Apparently, the "Deathday" party was a bigger deal than Tim thought. The guest list was a mile long.
From what Tim gathered a death day was a celebration of life after a near-death experience. Like if someone flatlined during surgery and are brought back. Its actually a pretty smart way to deal with trauma by making the event a reason to celebrate.
Tim had heard from Danny of the day he was electrocuted and that it changed his life. He definitely had the scar to prove it. Danny had gotten a UV tattoo over it or something because it glowed faintly at night. It was pretty cool.
That evening Tim was handed his costume for the event. The party had a royal theme, something that didn't seem like Danny's idea. Still, Danny's silver and ivy green dublette looked...pretty good. Tim dressed in a similar red and gold suit.
"You look good." Danny pulled out an ornate emerald cravat pin and pinned it to Tim label.
"You too," Tim said without thinking but Danny smiled before going back to putting the finishing touches on their outfits.
It was...intimate to say the least as Danny pulled back Tim's hair. He fastened their capes and a (fake) dagger to his belt.
Danny put put on a subtle layer of makeup. Darkening his eyes, cheeks, and lips. It gave him a pale and deathly appearance.
"I have to look my best. I don't want anyone to think I'm just using you as arm candy." Danny laughed.
"That implies that you are using me as that already." Tim jested but stopped when Danny pointed to the makeup trey. "You're joking."
"Im not. It's an important event and this isn't Gotham. There are alot of people i want you to meet. Just play along." Danny begged.
Tim agreed letting Danny put on a bit of black and red makeup.
"Aww, Tim. You look absolutely ghastly. Your funeral ready." Danny gushed as he turned to grab the last things they needed. Two circlets with stars emblems embedded in them.
Tim laughed internally. Danny was always to positive Tim forgot just how goth he was. Tim knew he shouldn't be surpised.
Tim and Danny walked to the mansion's ballroom which was full of guests dressed similarly to them. The room glowed eerily under green-flamed torches. Very gothic. On second thought this suited Danny.
A staff member er...servant announced their arrival.
"His Highness the High Prince of the realm of infinite space and his guest."
None other than Vlad Masters approached. He had thrown this party for his godson and wanted everything perfect. He eyed Tim critically before speaking to Danny.
"Daniel I heard about your...friend from Elle. Its that what he is?" Masters studied.
"He's my-"
"Boyfriend! I'm his boyfriend." Tim interrupted. He was not going to let this homophonic piece of shit undermine Danny's sexuality again and try to embarrass him. Especially on such an I'm day. " Tim Drake, son of Bruce Wayne and head of Wayne Industries. I've heard a LOT about you Mr.Masters."
After a moment Vlad nodded and smiled.
"You've chosen well. He's quite the catch my boy. Happy Death Day." Vlad patted Danny on the back before going to mingle with Danny's parents who where tearing up the cheese platter.
Danny blinked owlishly at Tim. Tim had never used that word yet, Danny thought they were not at that stage yet.
"Sorry Danny, i got caught up." Tim sighed.
"You know he's going to tell everyone right?" Danny laughed "I hope you're ready."
Danny dragged Tim to meet his ghost friends for the rest of the evening between dancing and eating.
Tim had fun meeting Danny's fellow goth friends who complimented him a lot. They were definitely strange but they really loved Danny. The whole party was like a Renaissance festival meets one of those novels that Jason loved. Actually, Jason would be so jealous of him right now. Tim made sure to take pictures. Some of them came out fuzzy but it was enough to make Jason mad.
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verstappenverse · 2 days
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Revved Up
Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader
Summary: Max grows jealous after your Instagram post attracts unwanted attention, including from an ex.
Authors Note: Do I actually believe Max posts on his own instagram these days... let alone would post with a 'scandalous' caption...no? but this is fiction so it's all good 😂
1.4k words / Masterlist
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Max was sitting on the plush leather couch in your shared Monaco apartment, flipping through TV channels with all the enthusiasm of a man waiting for a commercial break. He glanced at the large floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the stunning Mediterranean view, but even that wasn’t enough to distract him. It wasn’t the usual race strategy or upcoming practice sessions that had him restless—it was something far more personal.
You.
More specifically the photo you had posted on Instagram earlier that day, a simple mirror selfie, a little scandalous but nothing crazy. You looked radiant, sure, but that was normal for you. You were always beautiful to him. What had caught his eye was the flood of comments, the notifications popping up every few seconds as he scrolled through your post.
As he scrolled eyes narrowing as the likes kept ticking upwards. Then he saw it.
Your ex.
The guy who clearly hadn’t gotten the memo that you were Max Verstappen’s girlfriend, because clearly he didn't see an issue with leaving a flirty comment that set Max’s nerves on edge.
'Looking gorgeous as always' it read, with an obnoxious little winking emoji at the end.
Max’s fingers tightened around the remote as the thought of some guy—especially your ex—thinking he had any right to compliment you in that way made his blood boil. You were his. The world knew it, but apparently some people needed reminding.
He didn’t say anything when you had walked into the living room earlier, cheerfully oblivious to his growing annoyance. Instead he had kept quiet, but now it was simmering just under the surface. Jealousy wasn’t a feeling Max was used to; on the track he was calm, confident, but when it came to you, his cool, collected exterior faltered. Especially when some idiot tried to act like he still had a chance.
You entered the room now wearing a loose sweatshirt and leggings, a casual look that contrasted with the glamorous image you had posted earlier. Max glanced at you his jaw tightening, you could sense something was off.
“Max, is everything okay?” you asked, tilting your head as you grabbed your phone from the counter. You didn’t even have to unlock it before he spoke.
“That picture,” he said abruptly, his Dutch accent thicker than usual, which tend to only happened when his emotions were running high. His fingers tapped on the arm of the couch in an impatient rhythm.
You furrowed your brow. “What about it?”
He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest and you could see the tension in his posture. “Your ex commented on it.”
“Oh,” you said, blinking in surprise. You hadn’t noticed.“I didn’t even see that.”
Max didn’t like the idea of you looking at that idiot’s comment again, but you opened the app and scrolled down anyway finding the offending message almost immediately.
You rolled your eyes and let out a light laugh. “Seriously? He’s such a loser. I haven’t talked to him in forever.”
Max didn’t seem to find it as amusing as you did. His frown deepened. “Yeah, well, he still thinks he can leave comments like that. Like I’m not here.”
You couldn’t help but smirk at his grumpy tone. “What, are you jealous?”
His reaction was immediate. “Jealous? Me? No...” He paused. “I mean... you know how many people liked that picture?”
You raised an eyebrow, amused by how serious he looked. “Max, it’s just Instagram I think the point is to like pictures," you laughed but his expression didn't change ,"Max come on it’s not a big deal.”
“Not a big deal?” he repeated, his voice rising slightly, though he still sounded more irritated than actually angry. “Everyone’s drooling over you in the comments. And then there’s him.”
You couldn't help chuckling again and slid onto the couch next to him, pressing your hand against his knee. “Are you worried someone’s going to steal me away?”
He gave you a look, his lips twitching upwards at the edges, betraying the smallest hint of a smile. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re being ridiculous.” You leaned closer, brushing your lips against his cheek.
Max sighed dramatically throwing his head back against the cushions. “Maybe I should just post a picture with you, remind people who you belong to.”
“Oh, who I belong to?” you teased, poking him playfully in the ribs. “That sounds a little possessive.”
There was a teasing glint in his eye now, but you could still feel the underlying jealousy. “Can you blame me?”
You bit your lip to keep from laughing, enjoying how worked up he was getting over something so trivial. Seeing him this riled up over some stupid comment was kind of… adorable. You kind of loved when he got all possessive, even if he wouldn’t admit it outright.
“No, I guess I can’t blame you,” you admitted, leaning your head on his shoulder. “But you know I don’t care about those comments, right? Especially not from my ex. I didn’t even notice it.”
“Maybe you should block him,” Max muttered back to sounding grumpy.
You laughed again, unable to stop yourself. “Max, it’s fine, if it’ll make you feel better of course I’ll block him. But I need you to know I never think about him.”
He softened a little at that, his arm instinctively wrapping around your shoulders. “You better not.”
You smiled, nuzzling into him the warmth of his body calming. “Besides, none of those guys commenting are Max Verstappen now are they?”
“Exactly,” Max said, and there was that cocky smile you loved so much. The mood lightened as his fingers brushed through your hair. “None of them stand a chance.”
You grinned up at him. “And neither does my ex, so you can relax.”
He seemed to settle after that, his hand lazily stroking your arm as the tension eased out of his shoulders. “Good. But still…”
“Still what?”
“I think I should post a picture with you. Just to make sure everyone knows.”
You snorted. “You just want an excuse to show off.”
“Can you blame me?” he repeated, his eyes glinting with mischief as he reached for his phone. “Come on, one picture. Let me remind everyone you’re mine.”
You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. “Fine. Just one.”
Max scrolled through his phone finding the perfect shot of you two together arms wrapped around each other, he quickly typed out a caption and hit ‘post.’ Not long after, your phone buzzed with notifications. His fans were quick, already liking and commenting on the post.
You glanced at it over his shoulder, chuckling at the caption: Just a reminder—she’s mine.
“Oh my God Max,” you groaned playfully. “You’re ridiculous.”
He shrugged, completely unbothered. “What? It’s true.”
You laughed and shook your head, leaning into him once more. “You really are something.”
“I know,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “And don’t forget it.”
The rest of the evening passed in a much lighter mood. The TV hummed in the background, but neither of you paid much attention to it. Instead, you spent the time teasing Max about his jealous streak, much to his dismay.
“You know, I never thought I’d see the day when Max Verstappen got jealous over a social media comment,” you teased, curling up beside him on the couch.
He rolled his eyes, a playful smirk on his lips. “I’m not jealous. I’m just… protective.”
“Sure, that’s what we’ll call it.”
“Okay, fine. Maybe I was a little jealous,” he admitted, pulling you closer. “You’re kind of amazing.”
You beamed up at him, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. “Well, good thing I’m all yours, huh?”
“Good thing,” he agreed, leaning down to kiss you, slow and sweet. When he pulled away, he added kiddingly “What about, no more selfies without me in them.”
You laughed and nudged him playfully. “We’ll see about that.”
But deep down, you didn’t mind the way Max was with you. The way he got protective, a little possessive, and sometimes even a little jealous. Max was known as a fierce competitor on the track, but when it came to you, his heart felt just as fierce. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.
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mythicalmaven · 2 days
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(I used a screenshot of the original request in here, because I wans't able to reply to the original request anymore, whoops)
Here it finally is! Please let me know what you thought of it :) Requests are open btw! Feel free to request anything :) I'm considering to do kinktober as well this year, so leave your requests for that as well :)
Supposed To Be Mine - Charles Leclerc (ONESHOT)
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Masterlist ↳pairing: charles leclerc x female!reader ↳word count: 4.9K ↳warnings: friends to lovers, jealous!sex, jealousy, (minor) possessiveness, jealous Charles, smut, 18+(MDNI!), handjob (m!receiving), pinv ↳summary: In which Oscar wins the Azerbaijan GP & Charles gets jealous because their mutual friend decides to celebrate with Oscar& not him (or so he thinks). This results in pent up emotions, a heated argument & of course, jealous sex
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It was Sunday, September 15th when you found yourself making your way through the paddock. The sun was shining bright and the atmosphere was making you feel ecstatic. You, a familiar face on the grid, had been here to support your friends. While you usually worked as a member of the F1 TV team during Grand Prix, this weekend you were off duty, free to fully enjoy the festivities of the Grand Prix.
Over the years, you'd built strong friendships with most of the grid, but there were three drivers you were particularly close to: Oscar, Charles, and Alex. Each friendship had grown naturally, but in distinct ways.
Alex was the one who felt like a brother from the start. You clicked immediately, sharing the same dry humor, hobbies, and an undeniable love for animals. He was always there for you—whether it was picking you up from the club after too many drinks or cheering you up when your heart got broken again. If there was one word to describe your bond, it was siblings.
Then there was Oscar, your roommate. He ticked all the boxes for the perfect best friend. Your friendship took time to blossom, but once it did, you both quickly realized how well you fit together, purely platonically. The thought of taking it further had never crossed your minds—it just wasn’t like that. After moving to Monaco, you’d struggled to find an apartment, so Oscar offered you a place to stay. A year later, you were still living together because, honestly, it was too much fun to stop.
Then last, but certainly not least, Charles. Your bond with him was something else entirely. The connection between you felt effortless, almost surreal. He was the friend you could call at any hour to talk about anything or nothing. You could spend hours in comfortable silence, never growing bored. But Charles was also the friend that you had secretly been in love with for years. You knew you shouldn't be, your friendship worth way too much to risk it for a stupid crush. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get over him. Every time you dated someone else, it always came back to Charles.
But even if you'd allow yourself to feel the way you did about him, you'd already given up the hope of him ever feeling the same despite your friends insisting otherwise, pointing out how he smiled brighter when he was around you or how his gaze lingered a little longer. You were unable to believe it, the scenario seeming to good to be true.
There were moments—fleeting, breathless moments—when you thought something was there. Moments where your faces hovered inches apart, breaths mingling, hearts pounding. But right before anything could happen, one of you would pull back, retreating before the tension broke, both of you pretending it had never happened.
Charles had been in love with you longer than he cared to admit. Everything about you captivated him—the way your laughter filled a room, the ease with which you could calm him when he was frustrated, the way you just got him without him needing to explain a thing. Around you, he felt at ease and yet so unbelievably nervous. His heart would race whenever you were near, his palms would get sweaty, and he could feel the tension in his chest and stomach. There were so many times he’d wanted to pull you close, to feel your body against his, but something always stopped him.
It was fear. Fear that you would notice how much he felt for you and that it would scare you off. The thought of you realizing the depth of his feelings terrified him, because losing you, even as just a friend, was unthinkable. He tried to keep a distance for that reason, but it was impossible. You had this way of driving him wild without even trying, leaving him helpless in the wake of his emotions.
He’d fantasized about you more often than he dared to admit—so many nights spent alone in his apartment, hand slipping beneath his waistband, your name falling from his lips in breathless whispers. But it wasn’t just the physical desire; it was how much he felt when he was around you. You made him feel alive in a way no one else could.
And then, there was Oscar. The way you two were so close, always together, always laughing, sent a pang of jealousy through him. You said there was nothing romantic between you, but sometimes, Charles couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, you felt something for him. It ate at him, the idea of someone else having what he wanted so desperately. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold back.
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The roar of engines echoed across the pit lane as the top three finishers of the Azerbaijan Grand Prix parked their cars by their respective signs. Charles finished 2nd, which made you incredibly excited for him, but your excitement today reached an even higher level by the one who finished first. Oscar just won his second Grand Prix in F1 and you were feeling so incredibly proud.
You were standing at the front of the crowd, engulfing Oscar's mom in a crushing hug, sharing your mutual excitement. You looked up at Oscar climbing out of the car, bumping his fist in the air, cheering enthusiastically.
"God, look at him, finally a win he is allowing himself to enjoy!" you chimed to his mom.
You watched as Oscar ran straight into the arms of his engineers, their shared happiness palpable in the air. The joy between them was infectious, and you couldn’t help but smile as you took in the scene.
Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Charles climbing out of his car in the background, your heart skipping a beat at the sight of him. Post-race Charles always did things to you that you couldn't quite explain. You wanted to wave, but he seemed busy with his team, so you decided to congratulate him on his podium later.
Your attention shifted back to Oscar just as he approached his mum, pulling her into a warm embrace while carefully avoiding bumping her with his helmet.
"I'm so proud of you, darling!" she cooed, squeezing him a little tighter before they eventually pulled apart.
Oscar removed his helmet and reached up to pull off his balaclava, revealing a blissed-out expression. His smile was radiant, a mix of joy and relief, as if the weight of the race had melted away in that victorious moment.
He caught your eye, and his grin widened. "I did it! I actually did it!" he exclaimed, still sounding like he couldn’t quite believe it.
"You did! You really did!" you gushed, your smile matching his as you shared in his happiness.
Without warning, Oscar launched himself at you, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you over the fence you’d been leaning against. He hugged you tightly, spinning you around as both of you laughed, the sound of your shared joy echoing across the pit lane.
The cameras were all pointed in your direction, capturing the moment. To you and Oscar, it was nothing more than two best friends celebrating a hard-fought victory. But to the outside world, the scene looked far more intimate than it felt.
Charles stood at a distance, watching the moment unfold. His chest tightened as he took in the sight of you and Oscar together, laughter and smiles shared so easily between you. You’d told him there was nothing going on with Oscar, that the two of you were just best friends—but looking at you now, Charles couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy.
It hurt. It hurt to see you in Oscar’s arms, when he wished so desperately that it was him instead. He felt a wave of frustration, jealousy swirling inside him. Oscar was his friend, someone he genuinely liked, but seeing you together like that made it hard to think straight. The fear that Oscar might steal you away—his girl, even though you weren’t even his—gnawed at him.
“She said there was nothing between them,” he muttered under his breath, trying to convince himself.
Pierre appeared beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I think it’s not what it looks like, mate," he offered, sensing Charles’ mood.
Charles shook his head, frustration still bubbling beneath the surface. "That’s what they always say when they’re denying it," he replied, his voice low. "I know she’s single, and she can do whatever she wants with whoever she wants, but… it just hurts."
Pierre gave him a sympathetic look, but Charles couldn’t shake the feeling. He wanted to punch something, not because he hated Oscar—he liked Oscar—but because seeing you so close to him made him feel like he was losing you, even though you were never his to begin with.
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Later in the day, as the adrenaline from the race began to wear off, you found yourself searching for Charles. You had spent the afternoon immersed in the celebrations with Oscar and the McLaren team, reveling in their victory. Despite the fun, your thoughts kept drifting back to Charles.
Navigating through the bustling paddock, you scanned the area for any sign of him. You wanted to offer your congratulations and express how proud you were, but Charles seemed to have vanished.
When you stepped into the Ferrari motorhome, you were greeted by Carlos. The Spaniard offered you a small, knowing smile. "Hey," he said as he approached you.
"Hey, have you seen Charles?" you asked, absentmindedly twirling a stray strand of hair.
Carlos's smile turned apologetic. "He already left for the hotel. Said something about not feeling up to it today."
Your heart sank a bit. "Oh, I wanted to congratulate him earlier, but I got caught up with the celebrations."
A flicker of realization crossed Carlos's face. "Ah, that explains why he seemed so on edge when he came back here."
Confusion clouded your expression. "What do you mean?"
Carlos’s eyes twinkled with a hint of mischief. "I think Charles got a bit unsettled seeing you so close with Oscar instead of him."
You frowned, trying to make sense of it. "Why would he be annoyed? My best friend won the race. Of course I celebrated with him. It's not like I didn't want to celebrate with Charles, it's just that Oscar is my best friend. And he also deserves the attention when he achieves something amazing like this."
Carlos’s smirk widened slightly. "That’s exactly his problem."
You stood there, grappling with the situation, struggling to find the right words. Carlos seemed to sense your confusion and gently placed a hand on your shoulder. "Maybe you should talk to him. There might be more going on between you two than you realize."
His words hung in the air, adding a new layer to your thoughts as you considered the possibility of unspoken feelings and misunderstandings.
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"You seemed awfully intimate with Piastri this afternoon, anything unfolding there?" you heard Alex tease on through the phone.
He had called you had texted that you were on the way back to the hotel, something you often did to just gossip and rant about everything that went on.
You rolled your eyes, and huffed "Why does everybody keep saying that. Not even in my wildest dreams, ew" you whined "I know he's good looking, I'm not blind, but the idea of doing something with him revolts me just as much as it revolts him"
The chuckle that Alex let out was audible to you "Well, to be fair, it didn't look like nothing on camera" he started, another chuckle leaving his lips "Have you checked your social media lately? Apparently the camera's catched Charles' reaction to your little moment with Oscar. The video is going quite viral. He is shooting daggers at Oscar, man. The jealousy is literally burning in his eyes"
You sighed "Don't, Alex" you whispered "Don't give me hope"
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You arrived at Charles's hotel room with a mix of anxiety and frustration swirling inside you. His abrupt disappearance after the celebration, coupled with his avoidance of your calls, had left you feeling unsettled and concerned. Your knuckles rapped against the door, the sound echoing in the empty hallway. When Charles finally opened it, his face was a mask of irritation, the tension in his posture unmistakable.
“What’s going on?” you demanded, stepping past him before he could react.
Charles’s eyes were dark with frustration. “Nothing,” he snapped, but the rigidity in his stance and the clenched fists he tried to hide told a different story.
You let out a sigh, frustration bubbling up inside you. “I know you’re lying,” you insisted, moving to sit on the edge of his bed, trying to steady your breathing. “Please, just talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong. What did I do?”
Charles stood with his back to you, his breathing shallow and uneven. “Why him?” he finally asked, his voice strained and raw.
Confusion creased your brow. “What are you talking about?”
Charles’s frustration finally erupted. “Why did you celebrate with Oscar and not with me? I finished second. I deserved some attention too.”
You took a deep breath, trying to stay calm despite the rising tension. “Oscar’s my best friend too. This win was a big deal for him. I wanted to be there for him. I tried to find you, but you were already gone.”
Charles’s eyes flashed with hurt and jealousy, a dark storm clouding his gaze. “It feels like you care more about him than me. It fucking hurts to see you so close to him, probably even—”
His words struck a nerve, causing irritation to flare within you. “Oscar and I are just friends, Charles.” You stated, your anger bubbled over. “And so what if it was more? Why does it matter to you? I’m not your property. You dont get to decide who I spend time with. You’re my best friend, not my boyfriend.”
Charles’s face flushed with frustration, his voice rising with each word. “Merde, for fuck’s sake, I don’t want to be your best friend!”
His declaration stunned you, a mix of hurt and anger surging within you, causing tears to well up in your eyes. “Well, if you don’t want to be my best friend, I might as well go back to Oscar then. Since, according to you, that’s where I prefer to be. You apparently know me better than I do!”
Without waiting for a response, you turned to leave, but Charles’s hand shot out, grabbing your wrist with a desperate grip. His eyes burned with an intense emotion, a mixture of longing and possessiveness that was almost palpable. Before you could react, he pulled you close, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss that was both fierce and consuming.
The kiss was rough, charged with pent-up emotions. Charles’s lips moved against yours with an urgent hunger, a reflection of the depth of his feelings. The heat of his body pressed against yours, every touch and caress infused with an intensity that left you breathless. His hands roamed over your curves, claiming you with each possessive stroke. You could feel the undeniable pressure of his arousal pressing against you, intensifying the moment.
He guided you gently back toward the bed, his touch both tender and commanding. Slowly, he lowered you down onto it, his hands caressing your sides with a reverence that spoke of his deep feelings for you. He leaned over you, his breath warm against your skin. “I don’t want to be your best friend,” he said, his voice heavy with desire. “I want to be your boyfriend.”
You were taken aback by his declaration, the words resonating deeply within you. Before you could respond, Charles’s lips were on yours again, kissing you with a fierce passion that left you breathless. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer, as he explored your body with a mix of urgency and tenderness.
You moaned softly, the sound escaping your lips as his touch ignited a fire within you. Charles’s arousal was evident, his body pressing against yours in a way that heightened your senses. “Tell me you think about me at night and not him,” he demanded, his voice husky and filled with longing.
The world around you seemed to dissolve as Charles’s touch and kisses overwhelmed your senses. His hands roamed over your body, exploring, caressing, igniting every nerve with a mix of desperation and adoration. His touch was both possessive and tender, his kisses deep and demanding.
“Tell me,” he urged, his voice a low, heated whisper. “Tell me you scream my name when you come and not his.”
You met his intense gaze, your voice breathless and filled with yearning. “Only you, Charles. It has always been you.”
Charles’s eyes darkened with satisfaction, his expression softening slightly as he continued his intimate exploration. He guided your hands to his jeans, his breathing ragged with desire. “Have you ever thought about him like this?” he asked, his voice a rough whisper. “Touched him like this?”
You looked up at him, your eyes filled with a mixture of defiance and affection. “It’s only you, Charles,” you replied, your voice sultry. “I never saw Oscar that way.”
Charles’s frustration and desire mingled as he felt your touch, his body tensing and his control slipping. He moaned softly, a deep, guttural sound that reflected his overwhelmed state. His hands gripped the edge of the bed for support as you palmed him through his jeans, your touch eliciting a series of desperate groans from him.
Unable to hold back any longer, you undid the button of his jeans and slid your hand inside, taking him in your grasp. Charles gasped, his breathing coming in short, erratic bursts. “F-Fuck,” he whimpered, his voice strained. “That feels so good.” His body tensed and trembled, overwhelmed by the sensation of your touch. “J-Just like that,” he gasped, his voice a desperate, needy growl. “Show me you’re mine. I want you to think about me every time you touch yourself. I hope that after tonight, you can never touch another man without thinking about me.”
You looked at him, your eyes filled with passion. “It’s already been like that for years,” you whispered, your voice trembling with desire.
Charles’s gaze softened for a moment, but his need took over. He flipped you back onto the bed with a sudden, urgent intensity. His movements were driven by a deep-seated desire, his lips finding yours again, kissing you with a feverish passion that made your heart race.
As he undressed you, his touch was both deliberate and passionate. He removed the last bits of his clothing with a mix of urgency and tenderness, his hands lingering on your skin, savoring the feel of you beneath him. He paused, looking into your eyes with a mixture of tenderness and desire. “Are you sure you want this?” he asked, his voice a low, heated whisper. “Tell me, do you want this as much as I do?”
You nodded, your voice breathless with anticipation. “Yes, Charles. I want you. I want all of you.”
Charles’s eyes darkened with satisfaction as he positioned himself above you. His hands continued their intimate exploration, his kisses trailing down your neck and shoulders with a mix of urgency and tenderness. Each touch was a declaration of his intense feelings, a blend of passion and possession that left you craving more.
As the intensity of the moment built, Charles’s control wavered. He pulled back slightly, his eyes filled with a mixture of need and desire. “Tell me you’re mine,” he urged, his voice a rough whisper. “I want to hear you say it, mon amour”
You looked at him, your body trembling with desire as he continued to touch and kiss
you. “I’m yours, Charles,” you whispered, your voice trembling with both need and certainty.
Charles’s expression softened into one of profound relief and adoration, but a trace of jealousy lingered in his eyes, his gaze never leaving yours. As he positioned himself between your legs, there was a mixture of tenderness and possessiveness in his touch. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he murmured, his voice filled with deep emotion and a hint of a possessive edge.
With that, he entered you slowly, his movements tender yet unmistakably possessive. His thrusts were gentle and loving, but each one was infused with a sense of claiming, as though he was marking you as his own. His kisses were gentle but urgent, his lips traveling down your neck as he began to suck and nibble, leaving marks that would clearly show his affection and his possessiveness.
You gasped, feeling the intensity of his touch. “Charles, be careful. They will be visible,” you said, your voice a mixture of concern and pleasure.
Charles’s eyes darkened with a mix of satisfaction and jealousy. “That’s the point,” he murmured against your skin, his voice a low growl filled with both desire and a possessive undertone. “I want him to see and know that you belong to me. I want him to see what he’s missing, that you’re mine and mine alone.”
His words stirred something deep within you, causing a moan to escape your lips that was loud and unrestrained, a testament to the intense pleasure you were experiencing. Your hand instinctively traveled up to his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled gently but firmly. The sensation of his hair being tugged caused him to shiver, and he let out a deep, guttural moan that reverberated against your skin.
Charles’s reaction was immediate and visceral. He groaned softly, his breath coming in ragged bursts as the pull on his hair heightened his arousal. “Fuck...” he whispered, his voice trembling with both pleasure and disbelief. The feeling of your fingers in his hair only intensified his longing, making him feel as though he were losing control. “Merde… that feels so good,” he muttered, his tone rough and desperate. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
The way you tugged at his hair drove him to new heights of pleasure, his moans growing louder and more fervent as he lost himself in the sensations. Each pull sent a jolt of electricity through him, making his movements more urgent and fervent, as though he were trying to convey just how deeply your touch affected him.
As he continued, his thrusts maintained a balance of gentle passion and possessive claim, his hands gripping you with a mix of tenderness and assertion. The rhythm of his movements was both caring and commanding, a reflection of his deep, conflicted emotions. His kisses left a trail of marks, each one a silent declaration of his fierce, consuming love and possessiveness.
Charles’s eyes lock onto yours, his breath coming in short, uneven bursts. “I-I’m so close,” he gasps, his voice strained with the intensity of the moment. The desperate need in his eyes makes your heart race, his body pressing into yours with a fervor that only heightens your own arousal.
You can barely hold back your own pleasure, the sensations coursing through you almost overwhelming. “Me too” you moan, your voice trembling as you inch closer to the edge. “Come for me, Charles,” 
Your encouragement is the final push he needs, and his body reacts instantly. The combination of your words and the electric tension between you drives him over the edge. The urgency in Charles’s movements and the heat of his gaze as tumbles over the edge draws you to the peak of your ecstasy with him.
As the two of you reached the peak of your intimacy, Charles’s moans mingled with your own, creating a symphony of pleasure and connection that echoed through the room. The shared release was an explosion of ecstasy that left you both trembling and gasping, entwined in the aftermath of your union. 
When the world finally settled and the waves of pleasure began to recede, Charles held you close, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he whispered, “God, you have no idea how long I’ve been in love with you.”
You smiled through your own breathless satisfaction, responding softly, “I could say the same to you.”
Charles’s expression softened further as he kissed you tenderly, his hands caressing your skin with a gentleness that spoke of his deep affection. The moment was filled with a profound sense of connection and fulfillment, a testament to the depth of his feelings and the strength of your bond.
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ikeuverse · 17 hours
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OPPOSITES — p.jongseong
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PAIRING: ceo!jay x fem!reader GENRES: fluff, smut, a little angst WC: 12.1k+
WARNINGS: swearing, drinking, slightly drunk, a brief argument. kissing, foreplay, (almost) dry sex. lmk if i've forgotten anything.
SYNOPSIS: jay was the most serious ceo anyone could meet and remember, but not when you were around. while he had a difficult smile, you captivated anyone with your cheerful and relaxed manner. one night, he decided to take you into his world, the business dinner, but you didn't know if it was a good idea.
NOTES: a little treat i wrote for my little sweetheart @bluej4ym <3 to thank you for all your care and for always being here for me. you deserve more stories (which i'll write later, spoiler yeah) and what's more, you deserve only good things bc you're like that, full of good things. thanks for your friendship, i love you very much. and i hope you enjoy the story as much as i do.
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Working in a multinational company has two aspects that you can't avoid. First was the growth of shares and partners, dealing with people at the top, and seeing the numbers rise as you closed really important deals. Secondly, there was the gossip that went around the corridors of the company, even more so if you were the CEO.
Jongseong could boast of having a major multinational, being a billionaire, and having shares rising by the second. He took the trouble to congratulate all the employees for their hard work and dedication while they were in that building, giving their all so that the numbers would rise even higher. But Jongseong couldn't control what they said here and there, especially about him.
Not that it was something he needed to care about, like hearing that he was a really serious and scary boss… Well, he could take that title with ease. Jongseong wasn't one for easy smiles and small talk, saying only what was necessary to his employees and being strictly professional and polite. Greeting passers-by regardless of whether they were having a good day or not. But his facade was cold and methodical, as you'd usually hear.
What Jongseong didn't like to deal with was the gossip that arose after he met you. Introducing you as a romantic partner was something he didn't want publicly at the beginning of the relationship, private life being exclusively for the two of you. As well as keeping you out of the eyes of employees he knew would be the talk of the town, Jongseong also liked to have all the time in the world for you. But the town was too small, he had thought when he heard one of the employees say, the next day when he met the two of you in a restaurant.
“The boss is dating a very beautiful woman” he'd boast, having good taste, having heard how beautiful you were and the compliments the young man made on your appearance, although he was a little annoyed that he'd looked at you so much to find out about your physical characteristics.
“Does he really have a heart? I mean, how is he supposed to treat this girl when he's so serious all the time?” well, Jongseong wasn't expecting that comment.
That's what had been hammering at him for so long, not denying any gossip that involved you and him specifically. Since your employees knew, there was no hiding it. This led him to take the liberty of asking you to come to the company a few days a week. Walking hand in hand with you down the corridors or holding your shoulder to guide you, or with his hand on your waist talking about how the evening would go at home and what he was planning for the two of you to have for dinner.
He didn't need any kind of validation from anyone, but he also didn't know how to explain how annoyed he was at the thought of people thinking he didn't pay enough attention to you. Just like you, the woman who stole his heart just by the simple way she treated him. You were unlike anyone he had ever met, and Jongseong would spend hours talking about you and how much you meant to him if it were possible. He would replace the weekly stock meeting just to talk about you.
“Mr. Park?” the voice interrupted him slightly as he rambled on about you and how he felt about you. His eyes left the computer that was open on the stock spreadsheets and quickly went to the door. Jongseong's secretary stared at him with a small smile without showing her teeth, politely and discreetly “I have some papers for you to sign, can I take them?”
“Of course, come in” he settled into his chair, waiting for the secretary to walk towards him and place the papers on the table. Jongseong rolled his eyes at the small mountain of sheets she had placed there and his eyes quickly went to the corner of the desk. A small picture frame was turned towards him, without anyone being able to make out what was there. A photo of you. The first picture he took on the analog camera you had at home. Jongseong hadn't tinkered with these things for a long time, ever since his camera had broken and, with the hustle and bustle of life and work, he'd never thought to fix it. But you had one, and it was in perfect condition. Capturing it was no effort when you were graceful to the extreme and your beauty had been captured without any problem.
He smiled so openly at the photo that he didn't notice that the secretary was still standing in front of his desk. Her gaze followed where he was looking and, curiously, she tried not to bend down to notice the photo, although she had a slight notion that it might be a picture of him or someone he loved very much.
“Do you need anything else, Mr. Park?” she asked shyly, and he noticed the astonishment on her face when he connected the dots… Jongseong had smiled openly for the first time in front of someone other than you or his parents.
“No…” he huffed, picking up one of the sheets from the pile of papers and looking at the written lines to try and disguise how fervently his cheeks were burning “You can go now, miss. Thank you.”
Just as she entered, greeting Jongseong on her way out, the door closed and left the man alone in the room again. It wasn't a big deal to smile like that in front of someone else, but he found it strange and felt that he had let his guard down for an employee he only had a professional relationship with. Jongseong thought he only had to show that side to everyone he worked with, he had no reason to be affectionate like that.
Apart from you, the only person who broke this kind of protocol was someone he knew would be coming into his office in the next few minutes. And without thinking to wait for a call or a message, or even a sign that he was coming in, the door was flung open.
The playful smile on Jaeyun's lips indicated that he had heard something in the corridors of the company.
“What's up, Mr. wide smile?” he hummed after closing the door, his hands in the pockets of his dress pants as he walked slowly over to Jongseong's desk.
“Are they commenting yet?” he snorted, throwing the paper on the table and stretching back in his chair.
“She said you have a beautiful smile” Jaeyun bit his lower lip to stop himself from laughing at his best friend's pained expression as he walked over to the table and sat down in the armchair right in front of his best friend and company owner “I think you should smile more, you know?”
“And I think you should fuck off—”
“Hey, is that how you talk to the vice president? How disrespectful” the other pretended to be offended, his posture mimicking Jongseong's in the chair, throwing all his weight on the back of the armchair while sighing heavily.
Sim Jaeyun had been Jongseong's best friend for as long as he could remember. Remembering Jaeyun running around at company parties when neither of them knew how to add two and two together. He had a tooth missing when he greeted Jongseong for the first time and asked him to play in the middle of a gigantic crystal fountain in a particularly large hall. When Jongseong and Jaeyun broke the statue and fell into the fountain, getting wet from head to toe, it was there that he knew for sure that this boy would be his best friend.
That's why he had asked him to be vice-president of the company because there was no one better than Jaeyun to help him with his business. He had always been by Jongseong's side and seen him through all the good and bad times, where Jongseong wasn't ashamed to be vulnerable around Jaeyun, let alone show the side of him that almost no one knew about.
That's why it was impossible to remain serious around his best friend, even in the workplace. Jongseong didn't like being in the same environment as Jaeyun for too long, especially in meetings, because he knew that at some point his best friend would say something that would make him crack up and laugh at the same time. That was one of the reasons why the two of them hardly had any meetings together, even if Jaeyun did manage to get them together once in a while to talk to some employees.
“Do you know what I was thinking?” Jaeyun asked.
“And you were thinking?” the other joked, receiving Jaeyun's middle finger affectionately and a grimace soon after, making him laugh jokingly.
“We have less than a week until the Swedish partner's welcome dinner” he sighed happily. Jaeyun liked dinners because the buffet was always very well served and he knew that someone always remembered to put out the appetizers he liked. Good champagne and he would judge people's clothes along with you because he knew Jongseong would take it. Jaeyun was sure of it, he made friends with you so easily that it was like a perfect fit that you had come into his best friend's life. Because Jongseong would never say anything about anyone else, even though she was completely underdressed. But Jaeyun knew that you would drop a comment and laugh at something he said because you and he were Jongseong's karma. In a good way.
“And what does that mean? We're going together as a couple again?” it was Jongseong's turn to ask, making his best friend roll his eyes.
“First of all— Ew” he pretended to shudder with disgust, but there were countless times that the two of them went to dinner together. One because neither of them had any thoughts of dating or anything like that, and two because it was cooler to be with his best friend “Secondly, I thought you'd take Y/n. You have to take her!”
“Why?” Jaeyun noticed that Jongseong hesitated a little. His posture shifted in his chair as he uttered his name in the middle of the conversation. He thought his best friend would be happy about the mention and how much Jaeyun liked you, practically a sister-in-law to him. But he saw the company owner's expression change a little.
“Because, well… she's your girlfriend?” it seemed obvious to say something like that, Jongseong wanted to slap himself for acting like that, even more so in front of Jaeyun “And because it's a company event, it's your chance to bring her closer to the gossips who say you treat her badly.”
Jongseong hated how oblivious and sincere his best friend was. The words came out of the other with no intention of hurting or offending, and he knew it. But he also knew how sincere the boy was being because although Jongseong had never been so open about his personal life, having you around where almost everyone – or everyone – from his company was, would be a good opportunity to at least show that he cared about you. Not as he would have liked because you were in public, but he would have tried.
“I don't know why I'm bothering with this, honestly” he put his hands over his face, his voice coming out muffled and he holding back the overwhelming urge to shout. Jongseong was sincere when he said it and he knew that his best friend understood, after all, he had known him almost all his life.
“Maybe it's because you really love her and can't stand the idea of people making things up about you dating her” was another naked truth coming out of the mouth of the world's most sincere best friend, whom Jongseong felt incredibly lucky to have. He took his hands away from his face, letting them rest on his lap as he looked at the boy in front of him.
That was completely true, and also because you were the first person who took him out of the CEO posture and saw him only as Park Jongseong. You saw him as someone other than a suit and tie, expensive clothes, and a closed face. You smiled so beautifully at him that it was then that Jongseong knew he should marry you.
“I hate you” was the only thing he managed to say to Jaeyun, hearing his best friend's laugh after a big thud on the table. He had slapped the thick wood a few times to celebrate that he was right.
“Now that I've convinced you to take Y/n to dinner, I'm going to send her a message” Jaeyun stood up.
“What? You're going to text my girlfriend and say what?” Jongseong narrowed his eyes at the boy.
“I want to ask if that best friend of hers is available… What's her name again?” Jongseong listened to Jaeyun speak several names until he guessed the name of his best friend, whom he had seen a few times when the two of you went out together somewhere more relaxed.
Jongseong genuinely laughed at this, Jaeyun's intentions always being serious, but with a comic undertone that took away all the weight of working hard all week. He watched his best friend walk out of the office humming something without saying another word, leaving him there with a smile on his lips and the thought of introducing you to a sea of people next week.
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Jongseong had parked in front of your apartment countless times, waiting for you to come down and walk out the door as gracefully as ever. This time something seemed different and he knew he was too nervous – and unnecessarily so. It was just a dinner he was tired of being at, with boring people, although the subjects were really necessary. He was cordial and polite to partners and future investors, waving and greeting people who were as rich as he was just to make an average while sipping some expensive drink he didn't even care about.
Having you by his side that night would make things a little different. Jongseong didn't know if it had been a good idea to invite you to that dinner, he knew it was a world you weren't used to, although he never said he felt uncomfortable knowing how much he was part of it. Your life, completely opposite to his, was what gave grace and balance to the relationship between the two of you. While Jongseong was counting the company's millions in revenue, wearing a suit worth almost a hundred thousand and always with his hair combed with gel and straightened, you were the opposite. A baggy, comfortable suit soiled with some kind of paint or clay, your hair curled or tied up however, you could manage, inside a room full of art and paintings that you sold everywhere or gave lessons on how to make a good canvas painting. You made your money quietly and unhurriedly, while Jongseong needed figures and results the moment he opened a spreadsheet on his computer.
While he was serious and had no chance for a relaxed smile, you smiled at everyone and greeted anyone who passed in front of you. Your good mood was recognized by Jongseong the day you met, in the coffee shop you shared – in secret – because he knew it was the only quiet place, while you liked the aroma of the coffee and the few people who went there. He was in such a hurry the day he entered that establishment that he didn't see you and knocked over all the coffee you had just paid for.
There was no way he could have cursed you, after all, it was his fault because he didn't look where he was going. He didn't wait for you to pass and even made you waste your drink. Looking in your direction, you kept a smile on your face, even though your T-shirt was dirty with iced caramel coffee. Apologies wouldn't be enough for him to make up for what had happened, so buying you another coffee would be the least he could do. But as soon as he sat down at the table to wait for the compensation coffee, he was surprised by your good humor and smooth talk.
As if you weren't intimidated by him and how well-dressed he was in front of you. Nor did you care that your coffee was sticking to your shirt by now and the smell of caramel was invading the conversation you were both having. Jongseong never thought it would be so easy to talk to someone until he met you. Until he fell in love with you so naturally that he wanted to see you even more every day.
Jongseong sighed slowly, feeling nostalgic for the first day he laid eyes on you. How lucky he was that everything had turned out the way it had… He was overcome by that feeling until he stared at the entrance to your building. There you were. As beautiful as he remembered you to be. So perfect walking towards him while carefully holding the scarf that covered your shoulders to keep the wind from hitting you as the night went on. Although you were covered by his blazer by the end of the night, though.
“Hey” you said as soon as you got close enough, giving that smile that Jongseong was sure was his fuel for anything.
“Hey, darling” Jongseong said back, stretching out his hand enough to touch your waist over the dress. The silk making contact with his skin and the softness of the fabric made him smile. It hugged his body so perfectly that Jongseong was beginning to wonder if he should take you like that.
“Do you like it? Jake helped me choose, he said you'd like this color” your pout was soon broken by his lips, a quick kiss without much depth since you were both still out of the car. Jongseong took a good look again. The navy blue silk highlighted everything about you; from the color of your eyes, the tone of your hair, and even the tone of your skin. He certainly liked that color.
“He knows me on this” Jongseong kissed your lips once more, his other hand going to your face to caress your cheeks and feel the softness of your skin this time “You look stunning, baby.”
“I'm glad you liked it, love” you thanked him, and it was your turn to kiss him quickly to pull away and pull him into the car. You didn't know what time dinner would start on the dot, but you were sure that Jongseong couldn't be late, after all, he was the CEO. He would need to be there a little earlier as he had to welcome the guests and greet a world of important people.
He wasn't a difficult person for you to read, ever since you first met, so this evening it was easy for you to notice how nervous Jongseong seemed. From getting into the car and holding your thigh as his drove, to arriving at the dinner space and getting out of the car with you. Everything seemed to move in slow motion and every time you saw him look in your direction, his adam's apple would jiggle a little more, indicating that Jongseong was swallowing dry for some reason. A reason you couldn't think of. Perhaps asking Jaeyun would be a good idea since he was with Bonnie, your best friend. The two of them were relaxed with each other and would be your company while Jongseong went off to greet the first business partners of the evening.
“Do you two want something to drink?” Jaeyun asked when he found the table that the four of you would be sitting at for the rest of the evening, with only Jongseong left to join you.
“You can bring me whatever you're drinking” Bonnie smiled at Jaeyun, who smiled back.
“I think I'll take a water.”
“What?” Jaeyun's expression contorted, a grimace appearing as he wrinkled his forehead at you while sticking out his tongue “We have so many nice drinks and you're going to ask me for water? Please, Y/n.”
“That's right Y/n, how about the three of us have a drink together?” Bonnie tried to cheer you up with Jaeyun's help. If denying your best friend was a difficult task, having someone else do it made it even worse.
You weren't able to say anything else before Jaeyun left in search of a really good drink in addition to a glass of water. Meanwhile, the moment passed in complete silence between you and your best friend, because she knew you needed some time to yourself. That environment was something different for you and knowing that the stares you received were because you were known as the CEO's girlfriend. What would they think of you… that you were a gold-digger? Or did Jongseong's employees even know about the solid relationship you and he had?
It was clear that he acted strangely when it came to you and his working environment, and it was something you didn't question or care much about. Because you didn't meet Park Jongseong, the CEO. You met Jay, Jongie, the loving man who smiled at you no matter what situation he faced that day. The man with the warmest hugs and the best kiss you've ever tasted in your life.
Much of that dinner was a blur to you after Jaeyun brought some drinks and the three of you chatted about various things, with a little time left over to judge the outfits of people who swore they looked great in that space. But in fact, they were dressed so strangely. Like… Even you, who had never been to such a fancy dinner before, knew how to dress – although Jaeyun helped you with the choice because he knew what Jongseong liked – but that was no excuse! You looked much better than the people who were the talk of the table.
Jongseong had finally joined the table and the conversation between him and Bonnie was pleasant, making you feel good that your boyfriend got on well with your best friend. Just as you and Jaeyun had gotten along. Your boyfriend kept his hand on your thigh under the table, stroking your leg as the conversation between him and your best friend flowed smoothly. The tender touch of Jongseong's fingers, was a silent way of telling you that he was there for you, even though his perfume was everywhere. At least to you, who could tell exactly what he smelled like?
You looked at Jongseong's profile, his sharp jaw and plump lips making your heart race. The way his dimples appeared every time he smiled at something the other two at the table said made your heart leap a little more than usual in your boyfriend's presence. You got so lost in his face, in Jongseong's stunning beauty that you didn't notice when he abandoned his conversation with Jaeyun and Bonnie to look in your direction.
“Admiring?” Jongseong said, a low tone knowing that you would hear it anyway because of how close you had to each other.
“Feeling lucky, maybe” you shrugged, noticing him leaning towards you. His face a few centimeters away from yours, Jongseong's gaze lowered to your lips and then back to your eyes.
“Lucky for what?” he asked, shifting his gaze back and forth between your eyes and your mouth. The way he did it was so natural, yet it made you boil with shyness. Your cheeks would already be visibly flushed if it weren't for the make-up masking it and the amount of alcohol you'd drunk. You could blame it on Jaeyun and Bonnie.
“For having you with me” you finally replied, causing Jongseong's gallant exterior to crumble and giving way to the man with the silly smile and passionate gaze. He leaned in a little closer, his forehead touching yours and the tip of his nose brushing against yours.
Even if you knew that that intimate touch was the furthest the two of you had gone in front of everyone, you didn't know that practically all of his employees would be watching and commenting on it. Seeing how enamored Jongseong seemed to be with that simple touch.
“If I'm going to count myself lucky on this, then I'm the luckiest man on the planet” with a final whisper, he was ready to kiss your lips. Tasting the flavor of the drinks you'd had that night and how the fruity ones would have tasted on your tongue against his if it hadn't been for the mere interruption.
“Sorry to disturb you” Jongseong felt your breath quicken against your face, slowly pulling away so that he could straighten up and pay attention to whoever was calling him. And so he did. Sitting properly next to you as he had before, his hand still lingering on your leg as he looked at the middle-aged man standing behind Jaeyun's chair “I didn't mean to interrupt the guys, but I need you two with a so-called investor near the bar. Can you accompany me?”
A company dinner with business at a time that didn't need to happen. Jongseong and Jaeyun hated being president and vice president at this time.
“Will you wait for me for a few minutes?” he turned towards you, his eyes meeting yours effortlessly. The intense glare in your gaze made Jongseong unable to control himself even a little, so he leaned in and captured your lips without waiting for you to give anything away.
It was no lie to say that Jongseong had the best kiss in the world, even more so when he started caressing your lips with his cracked lips. The muscle of Jongseong's tongue came into contact with yours slowly and gradually, tasting the light fruitiness of the cocktail you'd had a while ago. He knew he would taste it, knew it would match the slow kiss you two shared. Unfortunately for both of you, the time had come to pull away and Jongseong did so with a small smile as he noticed the surprise on your face at having such a sudden kiss.
You held back the urge to laugh when Jaeyun came out and slapped Jongseong on the shoulder in excitement at the kiss that had just taken place. You caught a glimpse of the best friends pestering each other as, together, they walked to the bar where there were a few men much older than the two of them.
“I guess it's just you and me now, dear best friend” Bonnie moved between the chairs to sit next to you, facing the bar where the two boys had arrived a few minutes before. She slowly laid her head on your shoulder, feeling the weight of your head resting on hers straight away.
“How about some more cocktails? I loved what Jake brought us both.”
“That's how you say it. That's my Y/n!” she celebrated, raising her head and making you raise yours too. Bonnie's smile infected yours, along with her excitement at getting up from the table and going after another cocktail to face the rest of the night.
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Jongseong's eyes were asking for help as he looked at Jaeyun and saw him order another glass of whiskey from the old man sitting between them. The deal had been made a long time ago, but the older man insisted on drinking a little more to celebrate. He didn't even want to celebrate more than he should have, one glass of whiskey was enough and Jongseong just wanted to go back to sitting at your table, be in your arms, and get out of that dinner.
Thinking about you and how much he missed you, he turned towards the table where you were supposed to be with Bonnie, expecting to see you talking to your best friend. But what Jongseong found was an empty table and nothing but the empty glasses that you all drank before leaving there.
He looked around, looking for some sign from you or Bonnie so he could have an excuse with which he could walk away, say that one of you two needed his help with something and get Jaeyun out of there too.
Jongseong was starting to get nervous without seeing you for more than two minutes, no sign of you anywhere. Then he looked at Jaeyun, as tired and bored as he was. Waving to his best friend as a silent request to leave, neither of them thought much other than to give a small excuse to the old man and walk away.
“What’s wrong, man?” Jaeyun whispered as the two of them walked away, looking at the table where the two of you should be and finding it empty “Oh, I see” then he started to search the place together with Jongseong.
“I think we can split up for a bit, maybe” he suggested as he started to get impatient. He had already walked through the long dining room and not a single solid spark from you or Bonnie. He sighed heavily, Jaeyun looking around before landing his eyes on his best friend.
“The second floor has some rooms from what the organization people said” he answered to Jongseong “Do you want to look there and I’ll go outside to see if the girls went out for some air?”
“Great idea, I’ll go up,” Jongseong said.
Climbing the stairs two at a time, he didn’t know he was capable of being as fast on a staircase as he was at that moment. The second floor was huge and he would spare no effort to open each door to get a signal. Maybe one of you two was drunk and needed some help and wouldn’t be able to speak. Jongseong thought he should have left someone from the company to keep an eye on you at least, so he would know where you were just by asking. But that annoying man rented his and Jaeyun’s time in such a long and tiring way that he didn’t even have time to think.
“Park Jongseong?” he didn’t want to see anyone right now other than you, but the call of his name made him turn towards the vast and empty corridor. Jongseong looked at the woman who was approaching, an eyebrow raised and a smile on her lips that made him wonder what was going on in her head.
“Yes, it’s me” he tried to sound as cordial as possible, as he did with everyone he talked to that night. The woman took a few more steps before stopping dangerously in front of Jongseong, her hand stopping halfway as she wondered whether or not she should raise it and touch him.
“I was looking for you.”
“Looking for me? What would be the reason?” he asked, a little confused when she took another step and Jongseong felt his back hit the wall furiously.
“I can breathe a sigh of relief because my husband finally closed a deal with you” her hand ran down his chest to the top button of his shirt, where she quickly unbuttoned it. Jongseong would have raised his hand to close it and push her away, but the woman was so close that any movement could make him touch some part of her body that he didn’t want to do at all. “That way I can go to your office often. Such a wonderful view…” she held his face between her hands, this time there was no way to think and Jongseong touched her hands to push her away, mentally cursing himself for touching the skin of another woman who wasn’t you.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think you understand” he tried not to sound as nervous as he was, breathing deeply so that his tone wouldn’t falter and remain serious. Jongseong looked at the woman who was trying to maintain an innocent look, which didn’t match what she wanted to do. “I closed a deal with your husband because the offer was great. And I have a girlfriend, so—”
“Oh, don’t be silly, Jongseong” she laughed. “That doesn’t work in the business world…”
He felt sorry for the man who had married her because if this was happening here, Jongseong couldn’t count how many times the woman in front of him had slept with her husband’s business partners. Did she think she would do that to him now? It made his stomach churn at the thought.
Jongseong looked ahead, looking for some sign that she was backing away so he could gently push her away and leave as quickly as possible. But again, the woman didn’t seem to give up and held his face tighter. Her perfectly painted and aligned nails dug into his skin strangely and painfully. Jongseong wanted to scream and tell all etiquette and manners to go to hell, he just wanted to get out of there. The woman stood on her tiptoes and leaned in to kiss him, but he was faster. His face turned in the opposite direction to hers to feel her lipsticked lips touching near the final line of his jaw.
This was something he would have to explain to you, the lipstick mark on your skin or any mark on your face that would have been left if you weren't at the end of the hallway. He felt his chest burn and his eyes widen when your figure was there, standing there and completely confused. Jongseong found some strength to push the woman in front of him without caring about any explanation. The only thing on his mind was to run towards you even though you were running in the opposite direction this time.
“Y/n, wait!” he shouted as loud as he could, running through the hallways until he came down the stairs after you. Jongseong didn’t know how you were so fast after a few cocktails, not even he was able to catch up to you.
The sea of ​​people flooded the hall and the entrance, coming in and out, walking in all directions. But he was focused on your figure heading outside, so that’s where he would head without thinking twice.
“Y/n, please listen to me” Jongseong shouted once more, his breath hitching as he continued running towards you until he saw that there was no escape for you anymore. The parking lot wall is the barrier to stop you from continuing to move away from him “Love, I—”
“Don’t call me that, please” by the tone of your voice he knew that you were holding back tears, and it hurt to know that it was because of him. Because of what you had seen. But what Jongseong wanted most was to explain to you everything that had happened.
“I call you because you’re my love” he continued, walking towards you even though you still had your back to him. Hearing each step of your boyfriend getting closer and closer until his warmth was against your back, “Can you turn around to face me, please?”
As much as he wanted to hold you, turn you around, and kiss you to get rid of any thoughts, he knew he had no right to do that at that moment. So he waited patiently until you turned around, finding your face blurred by tears and your eyes slightly red.
Jongseong hated himself so much at that moment. He hated himself more than anything in the world.
“Did you see everything that happened?” he asked, seeing you nod slowly, “Did you see that I tried to push her away—”
“Jongseong” he froze in place, it was his turn to widen his eyes because you never called him Jongseong. Even when you were mad at him, his name never left your lips. That hurt more than seeing you cry.
“Don’t call me that, you never call me Jongseong.”
“Jongseong” you repeated, your lower lip trembling and your eyes burning a little more. The nail marks on his cheek were still evident. You had seen everything from the beginning, since when that disgusting woman showed interest in your boyfriend thinking he would be another one she would sleep with. The shock had been so great that you hadn’t been able to scream to push her away or do anything, so it was only when your boyfriend walked away that your presence had been noticed in that hallway. You just wanted to find a bathroom to use, anyway, and ended up finding the worst scene that you wanted to forget now “If this happens at a dinner I've been invited to, I wonder what must have happened on the nights you were alone since we started dating.”
“What? Honey, no—”
Your broken sob was the last thing he heard before you walked away again. The desire he had at that moment was to go back to that hallway and make that woman tell him the whole truth about things. Jongseong had never been through a situation like that, the shock running through every fiber of his body as the vivid image of your face contorted in pain and sadness broke him more and more.
“Fuck” he threw his head back, wanting to scream as loud as he could until that horrible feeling passed. Even though he knew it wouldn’t.
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Two weeks had passed, and Jaeyun counted on the calendar on his desk and his cell phone. Today was the end of two weeks exactly in which Jongseong had not left the office for anything. Meetings were postponed or only attended by Jaeyun. Calls were answered only by his secretary, with the answers to reschedule visits or that he was not available at the moment. And seeing him in the company hallways? No one did that. Jongseong would arrive an hour before everyone else arrived, only the security guards were able to find him wandering the hallways before entering the confines of his office and leaving an hour after work ended. He didn't want to be disturbed by anything.
"This is getting worrying" Jaeyun looked at his best friend's secretary. Yuna was a cool intern – and a gossip – but not in a bad way, she was the one who passed on all the information to him while Jongseong didn't participate in it. Jaeyun was a more relaxed boss, according to her.
“He postponed another meeting for next week” Yuna looked at the notes of all the interactions she had with the boss and owner of the company. Each message was written down with details and the times the contacts had happened, all so she could keep him informed later. “Do you think we should do something?”
“What if I go to his office?” Jaeyun asked her.
“Mr. Sim, you know that—” she hesitated a little, unsure of what to say, but when Jaeyun continued, Yuna knew she wasn’t that wrong.
“We won’t know without trying, right? And he can’t fight me for this, don’t worry” Jaeyun smiled at the girl and pushed herself off the counter of her desk, walking to Jongseong’s office. He missed the sigh of distress that Yuna gave, knowing the boss and owner of that entire building well. Jongseong would probably scold Jaeyun for bothering him like he did two days ago when Jaeyun insisted that he go out at least to eat something.
With a determined sigh, Jaeyun didn't even need to knock on the door and entered the room like he always did. This time just opening the door wide and walking in.
“I told you to get out of here, Jaeyun” the other didn't even need to take his eyes off the computer to know that, once again, his best friend was trying to interact.
“Since when do you call me Jaeyun, you shit?” he walked over to Jongseong's desk, looking around and noticing the mountain of trash and takeout food. His best friend wasn't like that, never had been. This was worrying him to an absurd level and he didn't know what to do.
Or he did know, he just wanted to test it a little and see how far he could go.
“Since when do you disobey my orders” Jongseong finally looked at him. Dark circles under his eyes and eyes almost screaming for a minute of rest where he could lay his head on the pillow and get some sleep. Jaeyun wondered how long his best friend slept each night to be like that. “Now, please, get out of my office.”
“No” he replied, making Jongseong’s eyes widen. “What? Did I stutter, Jongseong?” leaning on the table, his hands in front of his body and his head down, Jaeyun looked at him a little more seriously. Looking away across the table, Park Jongseong hated how much the boy in front of him knew him so well. He didn’t want to be like that and he also didn’t want anyone to see him like that.
“Jake, go to your office, please?”
“Only if you go home, take a shower, and get some sleep” he said. Jongseong gave a sad smile, really wanting things to be that simple. That he could get at least a little sleep, but every time he laid his head on the pillow, the image of your face came to his mind.
The first few nights, Jongseong could still see the sadness in your eyes and your last words to him before running away. Then he forced himself to think about the good times you shared during the time you were together. Your smile and your touch that he missed so much. The way you called him and told him your feelings in a melody so beautiful that it was the sound of your voice. Jongseong was lost without you.
“That’s not going to happen…”
“Either you go home, or I—”
“What?” he asked, interrupting Jaeyun in the same second.
He seemed to think for a moment, pondering whether to say what was on his mind or leave Jongseong on the edge of curiosity. He decided to go for the second option and pushed himself away from the table.
“You’re leaving this room today, wait for me” he said finally, walking through the room until he left without giving his friend a chance to answer.
It was all or nothing, he needed to do this even if it cost him something that Jaeyun didn’t even know what it was. But the sadness and worry of seeing his best friend like that was even greater than anything, so he would risk everything to make Jongseong leave that room that day.
“So?” Yuna asked curiously, looking at Jaeyun with expectation and excitement. She knew that the two were best friends and could get everything from each other.
“I couldn’t get him to leave there” he began saying, seeing that she was getting a little disappointed with what she was hearing. But as soon as Jaeyun took the cell phone in his hands, continuing to talk, Yuna smiled along with him, “But I know someone who can get everything from him.”
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The sound of the computer keyboard combined with the traffic outside the building was the only sound Jongseong had heard for almost forty minutes. No interruptions from his best friend or his secretary. No one had contacted him through Yuna, much less asked to speak to him. It was incredibly peaceful, although his mind was in turmoil.
Jongseong was grateful for the amount of work that occupied his mind for most of the day, although he needed to review some documents since he got lost every time he looked at the photo on the table. Your face in it made him sigh and stop for a few minutes, messing up his hair and wondering what was going on. He wished he could go back in time and simply switch places with Jaeyun and go look for you and Bonnie downstairs. Or better yet, not accept the deal with that man and not have to deal with his freakish unfaithful wife.
Everything would be in perfect condition and Jongseong wouldn't have lost you like that. He felt incomplete and unhappy, just like he used to before he met you.
Jongseong's thoughts screamed self-deprecation. He would have continued doing this for the rest of the day if he hadn't been interrupted by a knock on the door. It wasn't Jaeyun, he was sure of that. His best friend never knocked on his door. It could only be Yuna, and she wasn't to blame for what was happening, so when he politely asked her to come in, Jongseong wasn't surprised to see her standing with the door open.
“Mr. Park, sorry to bother you” she began, almost as if it had been rehearsed during those two weeks when Jongseong had asked her not to be disturbed. He knew she was making an effort to keep him informed of everything even though he didn't want to be there.
“Do you need anything?” he asked her.
“There's an urgent visitor for you” Yuna pressed her lips together, a little hesitant. Jongseong frowned for a moment, not remembering anyone who was an urgent visitor for him.
“Is this another one of Jaeyun’s works? Because if it is…” when Yuna didn’t answer, Jongseong knew his best friend was involved in this. He sighed heavily, taking his hands away from the computer and throwing his head back. “Okay, send Jaeyun’s visitor in, then.”
The last time Jaeyun had mentioned an urgent visitor, he had taken Sunghoon and Heeseung into Jongseong’s office so they could drink bottles of soju since he couldn’t leave until he signed the last report of the week. He didn’t want to drink right now, no drop of alcohol would be able to take away what he was feeling. He appreciated his best friend’s attempts even if he didn’t know if it would work this time.
But Jongseong should also know that Jaeyun never messed around. Not when it came to getting what he wanted since the two had become friends since they were little. When he heard Jaeyun say that he would get out of that office at any cost, he didn't know that the boy would appeal and call for you. You were standing at the door of Jongseong's office now.
“Make yourself at home, Miss Y/n” Yuna’s voice brought Jongseong back to reality as soon as she said your name, waving in your direction and smiling widely as she left you there, closing the door to leave just you and him inside the room.
“Y/n? What are you doing here?” he almost stumbled over his own words, stuttering a little as he abruptly got up from the table, dropping some papers. Jongseong tried to fix some strands of his hair, which was certainly more disheveled than when he woke up.
“Jaeyun called me” as he heard your voice for the first time, almost like a song hypnotizing him, Jongseong walked around the table and approached you in slow steps. Looking your body up and down, your loose and casual clothes, just as he remembered, making you so beautiful that he swore he felt his heart swell even more. “Aren’t you eating, Jongseong?”
Now his heart could shrink in size when he heard you call him Jongseong again, falling back into the reality of the state you two were in at that moment. But he didn't care, he wanted to be close to you, so he stopped in front of you and let you look at him.
Apart from you, only Jaeyun was capable of that, of looking so closely. So he let you examine every particle of his face. From his unkempt skin to his tired eyes. His disheveled hair and his shirt looked like they hadn't been ironed or cared for in a few days as if Jongseong had just taken the same fabric and put it on in the rush of the moment.
“Sorry, I—” his adam's apple moved as he searched for the right words to answer you, feeling his eyes burn when he looked at you so closely “I don't want to leave the office, so…”
“So you're leaving now” you wanted to be firm at that moment, but you were as broken as he was.
When Jaeyun called you and asked for help, you had already been planning to see Jongseong for a few days. Your anger had already passed and you managed to cool your head about everything that had happened, talking to Bonnie and listening to the story Jaeyun told her about what had happened. It matched exactly what you saw from the beginning. Jongseong was not and never had been a cheater and a betrayer, you knew that. But your emotions were so intense that you could only think of the worst and wanted to push him away, although you didn't know that the result of that would be the man in front of you like that.
“What?” he asked.
“Let's go home” Jongseong almost moaned tearfully when your hand touched his face, letting a tear escape due to the sudden contact. Pulling his face close, you felt his forehead touch yours “You go take a shower, I'll cook something and then we can talk, okay?”
“As you wish” he replied, his voice choked and his breath mixed with yours due to the closeness you two were in.
You reluctantly walked away, looking around and sighing at the carelessness of the place Jongseong had left. You felt guilty for getting him into that state, all it took was one phone call for him to come and meet you and the two of you to sort things out. But you also knew that if you had done it earlier, it might not have been the right time and you both might not be able to talk. You preferred not to think about what could have been and just focus on what was happening now.
Jongseong approached the chair and grabbed his blazer, throwing it over his arm and turning off the computer screen. Spreadsheets and files were being saved automatically and he wouldn't have to worry about that, because he was finally leaving his office with you.
Your steps were slow in front of him as if you were waiting for him to catch up with you until you reached the door to his office. Looking over your shoulder, you gave a small smile when you saw him standing right behind you. Then your actions were almost automatic, reaching out your hand for Jongseong to hold. He intertwined his fingers with yours. Your soft, velvety skin contrasted with the roughness of his hand, sending a shiver through both of your bodies.
Your grip between his fingers was enough to make Jongseong smile a little, his heart almost jumping out of his mouth at your smile for him. With your free hand, you opened the door, going out first and taking Jongseong with you out of the room.
“Shit, I knew it” Jaeyun almost shouted along with Yuna when he saw you leave the room hand in hand with Jongseong. The two of them looked like teenagers watching a couple of friends make it work because Jaeyun and Yuna clapped their hands against each other in a funny celebration.
“Yuna?” Jongseong called for the secretary, causing her and Jaeyun’s celebration to be quickly interrupted. “Tomorrow I’m going to take the day off, rest… Can you pass my demands on to Jaeyun?”
“Sure, Mr. Park” she smiled at you and Jongseong. Jaeyun didn’t even care that he would have double the work to do. If that meant his best friend would be resting, then he would be fine.
“Thank you” Jaeyun hissed at you as Jongseong turned his back to head to the company elevators. You thanked him back, waving to Yuna as well and following Jongseong to the path he needed to take.
A lighter mood settled between the two of you and even spread to Jaeyun and Yuna. The boy was right when he said that you would be the one to get Jongseong out of that place. He should have bet with Yuna that this would happen because he would have won. But the only thing he got was extra work for an entire day.
But as Jaeyun thought, he wasn’t going to complain about that. His best friend’s rest, combined with the well-being of his relationship, was all the boy wanted to happen.
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Vulnerability was something that wasn't part of Jongseong's vocabulary until he met you. Before, he was able to handle professional pressures well, finding some amusement when people in the business flirted with him or Jaeyun. Nothing had ever happened, they were both too professional for that, but it always ended up being a topic of conversation for Jongseong the next morning. He also didn't let the few breakups he had gotten him down, managing to settle down and focus on what was most important: his company with Jaeyun.
But as soon as he met you, a lot of things started to change. Jongseong couldn't find people's boldness funny anymore, although he preferred to keep his personal life very private. He didn't cut Jaeyun off when his best friend said that the future Mrs. Park would be waiting. No partner or investor knew your name, but they knew about you just by the way he talked about you.
Jongseong also didn't know if those two weeks had been a real breakup between you and him or if it was just time you needed to get your head together. The only thing he was sure of was that it had hurt him in a way he had never been able to feel before. The anguish and fear of losing you were overwhelming. Jongseong didn't know what to do or what to think, leaving almost all the time lost in thoughts about you and being guided by Jaeyun when he needed some direction in the middle of work for a few minutes.
But as soon as you showed up at his office, showing concern and that you were there, he was able to respond with relief. Driving home with you in the passenger seat, constantly hearing you ask if he was hungry and what he wanted to eat. That was the most distant dream he had ever imagined living with you. The little things – after such a difficult time – made the boy feel luckier and luckier.
He came out of the shower with damp hair after what seemed like an eternity between going to the market to buy what was missing – Jongseong ignored your scolding after he said he hadn't done any food shopping in those two weeks – and arriving carrying the groceries, leaving you in the kitchen to prepare everything. He wanted to go with you, to watch you cook what you two had agreed on. But he also didn't want to be a hypocrite and say he wasn't tired. All the adrenaline mixed with all the distressing feelings Jongseong felt during that time were replaced by the calm that your presence brought to him, so taking a long shower was the only thing he should be concerned about at that moment. Your words after he went upstairs to his room.
Now that everything was finished, he could go down and meet you in the kitchen, guided by the delicious smell of curry that couldn't be missing from that recipe. Jongseong tried not to make any noise as he came down and stopped at the kitchen door, watching you. The care with which you prepared, your quick smiles as you chopped up a spice or added another ingredient to the pan. That was more valuable than anything he could ever have in life.
“Jongseong, what a scare!” you said as soon as you noticed his presence, making his smile widen even more. Taking slow steps, he entered the kitchen and walked a little further until he stopped next to you. Leaning his forehead on your shoulder and inhaling your scent now. The scent he missed even more if he had to admit it. “Are you hungry?” you asked.
“A little” he wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his hands on your belly and breathing slowly. “Is it ready yet?”
“Yes, I promise” You smiled even though he wasn’t seeing it. Your speed in the kitchen was enviable, but he knew you did everything in the best way you could just so he could get out of the shower with the food already prepared, needing a real meal.
Between the moment he hugged you and the moment the meal was finally ready, everything passed like a blur for Jongseong. Eating in silence by your side, enjoying the good food and the glances and smiles at each other. He made sure to hold your hand between bites, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb and listening to you sigh beside him, everything so perfectly that if it had been Jongseong's delusion and he was still in the office, he wouldn't want to wake up.
“You—” he started to say, you were focused on putting the dishes in the sink and soon turned to him after the two of you finished eating “Do you mind spending the night here with me?”
He looked away after asking, afraid of any reaction from you. Jongseong took a step back to give you space in case you wanted to leave, but he was surprised when he heard you call him slowly.
“Do you want to go upstairs to rest now?” your question could already be a complete answer to him, Jongseong wouldn't even argue anymore. You would stay, he was sure of it.
Pulling you close to him by holding one of your hands, he was content to just guide you to the bedroom upstairs. Without saying a single word for fear he would ask you something and you would go back and leave him there alone. Jongseong wouldn't be able to face that house without you for so long. Even though you didn't live with him yet, at least before your visits were frequent, maybe even overnight stays. But for two weeks, you both lost that.
As soon as you both entered the bedroom, he went straight to the closet to look for something. You waited patiently, walking around the bed and going near the table where he usually got ready before going to work or going out. The smell of the mix of strong perfumes with Jongseong's after-shower scent was incredible. Everything in that room screamed his name and how the particularities of a serious man were completely guarded when he was with you.
“Here it is” he approached you, a piece of cloth in his hands that was only identified by your eyes when he stopped in front of you. It was one of the loose shirts he lent you to wear when you slept here.
No expensive pajamas or lace things, he knew that, your essence could not be bought. And he didn’t even want to. It was this difference between you and him that made the boy fall even more in love with you.
In silence, you began to undress, not caring about Jongseong’s eyes on your body or any corner he wanted to stare at. You, on the other hand, never took your eyes off his face. Wanting to catch every and any reaction as you took off your clothes, remaining only in your panties. Taking the shirt from his hand and easily pulling it over your head and letting the fabric fall on your body.
“Let’s lie down, you need it” you whispered to him, looking him up and down and seeing the small effect you began to have on him. Between the sweetness of the relationship between the two of you, you knew that you were the one who provoked Jongseong the most in this regard, and being away for so long was also making you miss him just as much as he missed you.
Feeling the soft fabric of his bed sheets and the blankets covering the two of you, Jongseong sighed. A sigh of relief as he wrapped one of his arms around your waist and pulled you close. His lips rested on your forehead before lowering his face and resting his forehead against yours this time.
“Do you want to listen to me now?” Jongseong asked you, trying to ignore the provocation from a few minutes ago and focus on something else. Maybe this conversation would be a good one.
“I… would love to” you pondered, but you knew he wanted to talk and that you had come there to talk too. So you let him tell you everything. Every little detail from the first word about how things happened.
You wouldn't hide from him that you had heard this from Jaehyun and Bonnie too, and how you had seen the scene from the beginning. But it happened like a shock and just like Jongseong, you had never experienced that kind of thing in a relationship. Not that you had many, but all the bad feelings invaded you, and dealing with it was something you couldn't do. So those two weeks had been frustrating, but at the same time necessary for you to think.
After all, your relationship with Jongseong was different from everything you and he had ever experienced before. The things that happened had to be dealt with between the two of you, so asking for his help or leaning on him on those occasions was the right thing to do.
“Thank you” he said after a while, his eyes flickering between your eyes and your lips, searching for any sign that you wanted to talk more or that you regretted talking to him. But the lightness in his expression said otherwise.
“For what, exactly?” you asked.
“For coming here and talking to me” Jongseong began speaking, his grip on your waist slowly softening and giving way to a caress with his fingertips as he lifted the fabric of your shirt to touch your skin. “For taking such good care of me” that innocent and sweet whisper went straight to your heart, but his hands against your skin were doing something else to you.
You had to act fast, not stay behind. The conversation between you had already happened and you needed to take care of him completely.
“But I didn’t take care of you enough” you whispered, feeling Jongseong’s affection stop quickly.
“What? What do you mean—” when your lips pressed against his, he knew what you were talking about.
Letting you kiss him now was the only thing he could handle. Your tongue slowly entered his mouth as Jongseong returned to caressing your waist, pulling your face closer, and pressing you against his chest. In that kiss, everything you two felt for each other during your relationship was transmitted, in addition to what you deprived each other of when you were apart.
Your hands slowly moved towards his chest, making their way slowly to tease him as you guided yourself to the drawstrings of the sweatpants he wore. Jongseong could only sigh and moan against your mouth, the feeling of your hand on his body sending electric shocks through every little fiber of his being.
In a slow but deliberate movement, Jongseong got between your legs and let you continue the path of your hand to his pants. Keeping up with your rhythm as his hands moved up the shirt you were wearing, revealing every part of your skin to him.
Jongseong ran his teeth over your lower lip, sucking on the fleshy flesh of your mouth when your hand finally found his cock still covered by his underwear. Moaning into your mouth had become a habit ever since you kissed him in bed. He made no effort to hide the sounds that were being caused by you. As soon as your hand grabbed the outline of his cock, Jongseong slowly ground his hips to force the length into your palm, so small and yet so strong against his throbbing cock.
“Fuck, Y/n” he moaned as he pulled away from your mouth, his chapped lips shiny with saliva sliding over your skin until they found their way to your neck. Placing small kisses on the area, going down to the particular spot between your neck and your earlobe, Jongseong left a small hickey. Smiling against your skin when you moaned in response, tightening your fingers around his cock.
“Jongseong, please” you asked hoarsely, right after your moan and trying not to falter in your tone. Knowing how impossible it was he teased you even more.
At your request, Jongseong lifted your shirt to below your breasts, enough so that the full view of your belly and panties were exposed to him. With his free hand, he took your hand off his dick and lowered his sweatshirt until he kicked it off his feet, leaving only the underwear and shirt he was still wearing.
“What do you want?” he asked, aligning the outline of his dick still covered by his underwear perfectly with the lips of your pussy covered by your wet and shiny panties. The shape was visible due to your arousal.
“I want—” you moaned loudly when the head of Jongseong’s dick hit your clit. It was sensitive and swollen, and you wanted nothing more than to be touched, but with that attitude, you knew your boyfriend had other plans.
“I asked…” Jongseong pressed his cock deeper into your clothed pussy, his slit covered in precum mixing with your essence as it made your panties even wetter along with his boxers. “What do you want?”
For lack of response, he knew the effect it had when he teased you like that. But Jongseong didn’t want things to end so quickly, so he lowered his boxers just enough to release his throbbing, aching cock. With the same hand, he traced the outline of your crotch where your panties were clinging, feeling the essence dripping from how wet you were.
He looked down for a moment, his fingers becoming almost transparent from how wet you were as he pulled your panties away. With his free hand, Jongseong ran his cock along the side of your panties, feeling the pressure of the fabric as he managed to place his length right above your clit.
“Fuck, you’re not going to— You’re not going to tease me like that” you whimpered a little too late because Jongseong began to thrust his hips slowly, making your pussy soak his entire length. With each touch of his cockhead to your clit, you wanted to cry out from the stimulation.
Jongseong swallowed a loud moan, the noise of excitement growing more intense as he soaked his entire cock in your pussy, his hips slowly moving enough.
“Why, hm?” he asked, his gaze lifting to yours as he picked up the pace. Your fucked out face could make Jongseong cum right there, without even having penetrated you yet. Your legs gripped tightly to his hips, following along as he moved back and forth, his cock stuck between your wet pussy and your panties that were starting to get stickier and stickier, almost transparent.
You pulled Jongseong by the neck, joining your lips to his as you felt him pick up the pace. The sound of his wet movements turned you on even more. His cock moved up and down your pussy as his pelvis reached its limit, only for you to soak his cock all over before his hips came back and did it all over again.
Your lungs screamed for air, but you didn't want to let his mouth go, so you kept it there just to feel Jongseong sharing the same air as you. Your brow furrowed as his pace became faster, more urgent. The shape of his mouth molding to yours, the side of his nose pressing against yours, and your foreheads still together as the two of you synchronized the movements of your hips.
Even though his cock wasn't inside you, Jongseong knew every sign your body had before he came. Every clench your pussy made around nothing and every slow spasm you indicated when you were close. Along with that, his shallow thrusts became erratic, and his nibbling on your lower lip became frantic.
“Jongie” you moaned, a request you didn’t know what it was. If it was for him to let you cum, if it was for him to not stop. You didn’t know, you could have a little bit of everything.
“Yeah, baby?” Jongseong kept his lips close to yours, his gaze never leaving yours because he wanted to look at you when you came.
“Don’t stop” you begged.
“I wasn’t intending to” he smiled with his mouth anchored to yours, his movements a little faster.
Jongseong’s thumb went to the base of his cock, making the completely wet glans – he couldn’t tell what was his pre-cum or his essence anymore – slide over your clit and down your pussy to your hole. He circled it once before penetrating you without any warning.
“Holy shit” you screamed at the sudden intrusion.
“Cum on my dick, baby” he begged, this time with a single strong thrust so that the head of his cock kissed your cervix, where he could reach.
The way your pussy tightened around his cock after so much stimulation and with just one thrust, you came like you had never done before. The trembling of your pussy walls was enough for Jongseong to cum in thick, strong jets inside you. The amount surprised him because he still came as he continued thrusting into you, hearing your whimpers knowing he was already overstimulating you.
Slowly he stopped moving his hips, the last drop of his cum inside you was released, and only then was Jongseong able to rest his body on yours, hugging you without pulling out of you yet.
“That was…”
“Intense” you finished his sentence, running your hands up your boyfriend’s strong arms until you held his face between your hands. The tender and calm look you gave him was nothing compared to what the two of you had shared seconds before.
“Can I ask you something?” he asked you, still panting as he struggled to pull out of your pussy. It was so warm and sheltering him so well, he didn’t want to leave anytime soon.
“Sure, whatever you want” you said.
He seemed to think about it for a moment, smiling slowly as he pulled out of you, careful not to overstimulate you. You both moaned together at the abandonment of your hips, but as soon as Jongseong’s body fell beside you, exhausted, you snuggled up to him and buried your face in the crook of his neck. His scent calmed you down a little more as your breathing became normal.
“Don’t ever call me Jongseong again” he said in a whisper, running the tip of his nose through your hair as his hands rested on your back.
You laughed softly but stopped when he slapped your ass and pulled you closer to him.
“I’m serious, it’s not nice and—”
“I know” your lips kissed him as you lifted your face, looking at him properly. “I won’t do it again. Only if you deserve it.”
“I promise, I won’t do anything to deserve it, love” Jongseong pouted, and you swore it was the most adorable thing in the world.
Because everyone knew Park Jongseong, and here, he was just your Jongie. Your boyfriend, and the man of your life.
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© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.
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bpmiranda · 3 days
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Honey III |l. howlett| nsfw
A/N: dbf!logan, recluse!logan, sunshine!reader, age gap, tiny bit of angst, mainly smut🤭, mild daddy kink, fingering, oral f!receiving, unprotected sex
Honey Honey II
“I can’t grow old with you.”
Those words felt like a dagger in her belly and she recalled deciding to leave. Not because she was upset that he was a mutant, but because she felt it was a cruel joke from the universe to finally meet a man whom she wants to share a life only for it to not be possible. The only thing she could think to do was finish this last semester of her first college year and she figured they would talk again when she returned.
They had to talk about this, right?
However, Logan wasn’t on the mountain when she came home for the summer. Her dad had told her that he went on a trip to that States not long after she left for school and her heart fell into the pits of her stomach. That night she cried silently into her pillow, the ache of having lost him just like that too much to bear. It felt like a part of her had been taken with him. Perhaps she shouldn’t have pressed him to share her feelings, perhaps she should’ve given him more time to decide on his own if she was really what he wanted. The moments they shared sure had convinced her that they were on the same page.
The days all blended together after that night. Nothing interested her anymore, but she had to put a smile on because she didn’t want her father to grow concerned. But he knew something was wrong.
“You miss him?” He asked her one day when they were opening up the store. Her eyes widened as she looked up from the box of candy she had been slowly organizing and he chuckled. “Haven’t quite been yourself since you found out he left.”
Her face felt warm and she shook her head. “I-Logan and I-we-” She struggled to find a way to convince him she was not in love with a man twice her age, but her dad put a hand up.
“Logan’s a good man.” That was all he said and she smiled, nodding in agreement. “I figured something was going on when he asked me to let you know where he was going.”
Now is as good a time as any, she thought. “Did he say anything else? Maybe about me?” She asked sheepishly and her dad gave her a slow head shake.
“Just that he wanted you to know he won’t be gone for long.” He said and that alone gave her enough hope to hold onto for the time being.
Late one night, while she laid wide awake in bed almost a month after learning of his departure, she heard a soft thumping outside her window and she sat up quickly. Her eyes were wide as she watched a large silhouette appearing in her window and she realized who it was almost immediately as she hurried to open the window and let him in. Logan landed in her room with a heavy thud and she shushed him with a smile. “Hey, honey,” He greeted her with a grin. His hand reached out for hers and she shyly took it, leading him to sit on the end of her bed with her. “I hope I didn’t have you too worried.”
“Just about.” She teased, her hand reaching up to caress his cheek softly, the familiarity of his face bringing her so much peace. It didn’t matter that he had left, not now that he was back with her, but she still asked, “Why’d you leave?” Her big, sad eyes gave away her the pain he had caused her and Logan shook his head, disappointed in himself for not having told her more, but he couldn’t risk her not being safe when he returned.
“Not because of you.” He said, bringing his lips to hers for a soft kiss. “I promise it wasn’t because of you.” Her face warmed up and she nodded, believing him. “An old friend needed my help.” Her eyebrow raised curiously and Logan knew what she was thinking. “His name is Charles.” Her smile returned and she looked away from him as she whispered a soft ‘oh’ and he laughed softly at her. Gently, he held her face in both his hands and he looked seriously into her eyes. “I do love you.” Logan said, regretting not having said it the last time they were together. “Honey, I love you. I’m-well-I’m just scared of something happening to you.” He said, not bearing the thought.
Her heart was full as he told her he loved her. Relief washed over her and she lightly kissed him as she moved to straddle him. “Is there any reason I should be worried about my safety right now?” She asked, trying not to make a lewd sound as she felt his shaft underneath her. Logan shook his head, his hands resting on her hips as he kissed her back. “Then let’s just enjoy tonight, and we’ll worry about tomorrow when we get there.”
Logan nodded, knowing he wasn’t going to change her mind, knowing she wasn’t scared of him, or of being with him. “What about growing old together?” He asked as she kissed his neck softly, his head hung back as he let out a soft groan while lying on her bed with her on top of him. His large hands rubbed her bare thighs slowly as he tried to hold back long enough to make sure they could have a proper conversation about their future before he made up for the pain he caused her with his absence.
“I’ll grow old,” She whispered, smoothing her hands down his toned torso and sucking a light hickey on his neck, watching the little bruise disappear moments after. “And you’ll take care of me, like I do for you now.” She resolved, lifting herself up a little, slowly dragging herself along the jean clad length of his cock until she felt his head throb at her core which was covered only by the thin material of her pajama shorts.
Logan groaned, digging his fingers into her hips as he guided her along himself. Her head rested against his and she hummed in pleasure. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” He whispered, holding her close as she slowly rolled her hips against him. “I love you.”
“I love you, Logan.” She breathed out as her lips met his and he then sat up, lifting her up so he could lay her down on the bed. Her hands ran down his exposed arms and he removed his tank top so she could smooth her delicate fingers over his toned abdomen. Her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as he watched her with a little smirk. “Will you fuck me, daddy?” She asked quietly, those gorgeous eyes looking up at him pleadingly and he nodded as he dipped his head down and kissed her neck.
“‘Course I will, honey.” He whispered.
Their clothes came off and Logan had her spread her thighs for him so he could lap gently at her cunt. Her body was trembling as she tried to remain as quiet as possible. His hands gripped her ass and thighs firmly, massaging her lower half as he drooled into her. “That feel good, baby?” He asked as he began pumping two fingers into her tight pussy, his tongue still toying with her sensitive clit while she mewled with her eyes shut tightly, nodding desperately.
“‘S always good, daddy,” Her voice was shaky and he smirked to himself. “You always make me feel good.” She moaned, her back arched against her bed as she felt herself reach that point of no turning back, losing control as he made her cum. “Fuck!” She whined and he quickly covered her mouth, his fingers still knuckle deep inside her as he watched her eyes well with tears while he extended her orgasm.
“That’s my girl.” He praised as she kept her trembling legs open for him. “Missed seeing you like this.”
Her eyes were blurry from the tears of overstimulation as he pulled his thick fingers out and sucked them clean before slowly rubbing his head through her folds. The feeling sent a jolt through her body and she braced herself onto his broad shoulders as he pushed his tip into her. “Oh, yes!” She whispered, her mouth latched onto his in a passionate kiss and he groaned as he sunk into her in one good thrust.
“You want this?” He asks and she nods, her brows upturned as he’s fucking so deeply into her, relentless in his pace. Logan caresses her hair with one hand while hiking her thigh up over his hip, allowing himself to rut deeper into her and she cries out, muffling herself with her hand while holding onto his waist with the other. “You want me?” He groans, feeling her walls clench tightly around his girth and she nods again.
“I want you, daddy. I only want you.” Her voice trembles and he notices tears rolling down her face. Logan smiles as he kisses her, wiping her cheek softly while he’s fucking her roughly.
“I���m yours.” He promises, grunting as she suddenly claws at his chest while she writhes beneath him. Logan can’t take his eyes off as she reaches her orgasm, her eyes half-lidded from the pleasure, and her teeth biting down hard on her lip as she’s struggling to keep quiet. “Can’t quit staring at you, you’re so pretty, honey.” Logan sighs as he fucks her through her release, wanting to give her everything. “You gonna take it?” He asks and she nods weakly, so pliable in his hold now. Logan buries his face in the crook of her neck as he ruts into her harshly, chasing his own high within her tainted walls. Her hands rub his broad back as she pants heavily, her mind fuzzy from the feeling of him gliding along her walls, the smell of his natural musk mixed with his signature cigars, the faint taste of herself on his lips as they kiss while he pumps her full of his cum.
They fall silent as they catch their breathes, kissing each other softly wherever they can reach as they refuse to pull away just yet. Logan doesn’t recall ever feeling quite this attached to someone before, and though he still holds concerns for her safety, he realizes that not something that he will ever stop worrying about. “I want you for as long as I can have you.” Her voice brought him out of his thoughts and he nodded in agreement as he brushed a few strands of hair out of her face. “We can deal with the rest as it comes.”
“If that’s what you want,” Logan murmured, kissing her forehead softly. “That’s what I’ll give you, honey.”
🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯
I hope you kind readers enjoy this little happy ending for Honey and Logan:)
🏷️: @dontfeedthebigbadwolf @peterparkernotfound @httpsells @evasmlp @ayatotiddies @thatlittlered @seasonofthenerd @littlemisscantloveyouback @scorpiosaintt @simpingfor-wakasa @spencerswh0r3 @thatweirdtheaternerd12 @shybluebirdninja @iamburdened
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bamfkeeper · 2 days
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Winter Coat.
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RQ: 'Saw your requests were open and I've gone through like 99% of your works so I just HAD to toss in a request (which, absolutely take your time on btw, I completely understand the burnout that can happen at the drop of a dime). I'm so impatient when it comes to weather and seasons that I desperately need it to be chilly autumn already. I'm sure you seen it but that one post about Kurt getting fluffier during autumn/winter got my gears turning. What do you think his reaction would be to a GN reader warming their hands in his fur? (Bonus prompt if reader can somehow get past all that lovely fur and touch his skin with freezing fingers ∩ω∩)' - @casualeylee
Pairing: Kurt Wagner x GN!reader // Warnings: Slightly suggestive themes
A/N: I love the idea of him growing longer fur so I enjoyed this a lot. Quick little drabble for the upcoming cool months! I have a few requests for his fur, which was sweet to see, I adore him fuzzy. I hope you enjoy <3 WC: 1.3k
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"Mein Gott, your hands are freezing, liebling," Kurt remarked with concern, his gaze settling on your hand as it awkwardly intertwined with his own. You sighed contentedly, leaning closer to him for warmth as the two of you strolled leisurely around the dying garden of the mansion. The once vibrant blooms were now succumbing to the colder weather, which was taking its toll on the plants. Yet, despite the garden's current state, you found yourself looking forward to the cold months ahead and the festive holidays they would bring.
"I know, I'm sorry," you admitted sheepishly, glancing up at him with a hint of regret. "I should've worn the mittens you told me to put on before we left..." You pouted slightly, chastising yourself for being so stubborn earlier. Kurt chuckled softly at your demeanor, his little smirk spreading warmth through you and making you shiver, though not from the cold. His amusement was infectious, and you couldn't help but smile back.
Kurt's tail gently ran under your shirt and wrapped around your waist, holding you even closer as you walked together through the chilly evening air. You couldn't help but notice how his tail felt slightly more fuzzy than usual, prompting your free hand to naturally reach out and stroke the soft fur. "Are you getting fuzzier?" you questioned with curiosity, suddenly eying his face and observing that his jaw seemed to have longer fur too, as if preparing for the colder months ahead.
"Ja, I get a thicker coat when it gets cold...you complain about my fuzz now, just wait until I have a full-on winter coat and I am shedding all over your favorite sweaters!" he laughed softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement at the thought of you dealing with a living room filled with his fur. The idea of him shedding more fur made you smile, envisioning the playful challenge it might bring. Even if it meant a bit of extra cleaning during the winter season.
"Your hand still feels cold, liebe," Kurt observed with concern, his eyes filled with the usual warmth as he looked down at you. Gently, he pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you protectively. "I think our walk is done...you are going to freeze out here if we stay any longer," he stated with a hint of urgency in his voice. Not wanting you to endure the cold any further, he effortlessly teleported you both inside the expansive mansion, determined to stop your shivering.
Now, you found yourself comfortably seated on the plush couch in your shared bedroom. The luxurious room was spacious, adorned with elegant furnishings, and boasted a charming small fireplace that crackled softly. Only the older X-Men were privileged enough to have a room this nice, making you feel incredibly lucky, especially when you were currently shaking off the cold. As you sat in front of the gently flickering fire, its warmth slowly seeping into your chilled bones, you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of happiness.
Kurt teleported back into the room with a soft purple haze enveloping him, his tail flicked away any remaining cloud as he walked over to you. He gently sat down beside you on the couch, causing the blanket that was draped around your shoulders to slip slightly as he made himself comfortable. He placed a steaming cup of hot chocolate on the small table beside the couch, its warmth and aroma inviting. “I made it just how you like.” Kurt noted and left it to cool off for a minute. You gave him a soft smile at the gesture, he always knew what to do to make you feel loved. He always went above what he needed to do, and that was one of the things you loved about him.
Kurt leaned back and went to wrap his arm around you, intending on pulling you closer to him to offer extra warmth to you before he paused. "Oh," he remarked thoughtfully, humming to himself and leaning back a bit to look at you, "Skin on fur might help..." With a slight shuffle, he began to remove his top, revealing his abdomen and chest. As he did so, you noticed that his skin had also grown more fuzzy.
You swallowed hard, feeling a mix of curiosity and admiration as you couldn't help yourself from eying his chest and abdomen. He stood before you, his attractive physique lean and toned, each muscle defined under the light from the fireplace. The fur that covered his body looked incredibly soft, inviting, you needed to have your hands on him. It was impossible to ignore the magnetic pull you felt towards his body at that moment. “Ah…you are growing a lot more already,” you rasped, your voice barely above a whisper, laced with an undertone of need. With a sense of awe and hesitancy, you reached out, your fingers trembling slightly as they made contact with his warm skin. Slowly, you let your hand trail up, starting from his belly button and moving upwards to his chest.
You swallowed nervously, feeling the firm and defined muscles beneath his soft fur, and as you did, you began to have some difficulty controlling your thoughts, which started to wander in unexpected directions. Kurt laid his hand gently over yours as you felt the warmth of his chest, his intense yellow eyes fixed on you with a playful grin. “Naughty…I know what you’re thinking. You always get this look in your eye…sinner,” he said with a teasing tone, his voice low and playful. His words and the cheeky way he spoke made your face heat up even more, feeling more flustered since you were practically feeling him up.
"Shut up...your fur is really warm on my hands...that's all." You muttered embarrassingly, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, your hands continuing to slowly rub his chest and feel the fur there. It was so incredibly soft, the longer bits curled around your skin, inviting your nosy fingertips to dig even farther into his fur, seeking more warmth and comfort in every stroke.
"Enjoying yourself?" He asked with a slight smirk, sitting still as you explored him with that stupid grin, allowing you to continue your gentle exploration. He opened his mouth for another teasing comment, but his breath hitched quickly as your freezing fingers unexpectedly found their way to his skin. "Ach...- Liebling..." he murmured, his voice tinged with a mix of surprise and endearment.
"What? Did I find something?" you asked with a mischievous grin, your turn to be cheeky now. You intentionally let your fingers wander over his skin, which was so incredibly, so wonderfully warm. With a playful determination, you weaseled your hands against his skin, feeling the contrast of your cool touch against his heat. Snuggling even closer to him, you couldn't help but smile as Kurt laughed and squirmed a little from the unexpected cold sensation of your fingers dancing across his body.
"The things I let you do to me..." he huffed, though there was a fondness in his voice, as he held you even closer to him. His arms and tail wrapped securely around your body, pulling you into a protective and affectionate embrace. While he often teases you relentlessly, it's always in good fun, because at the end of the day, he truly loves you. He is more than willing to suffer through the icy touch of your fingertips against his warm, sensitive, ticklish skin, as long as it brings a smile to your face and you enjoy every moment of it.
"Ach! Liebe!" he exclaimed, jerking up slightly in surprise as you playfully moved your fingertips to the sensitive sides of his ribcage. His reaction was both amusing and endearing, and you couldn't help but giggle at how it caught him off guard.
He looked down with a soft, affectionate smile, acknowledging your mischievousness with a twinkle in his eyes. "Cheeky thing..."
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Thanks for reading.
*BAMF*
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Dividers by @/adornedwithlight
Cover image: Nick Robles art credit, other images Pinterest.
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gojoidyll · 3 days
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stubborn heart ch. 4
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yan!capitano x wife!reader
summary | or in which capitano is told he needs a wife. and he begrudgingly agrees.
warnings | shower scene, nudity (but nothing is described), etc.
note | i have rewritten this chapter four times, and i still don't like how this turned out...
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previous | next
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You were gone a total of four hours, and you managed to snag a hefty amount of books from the store in town. Truthfully, you were planning on finding a job as well but figured that taking some time off from working every single day of your life would do you some good, which was how you found yourself back in your shared room, your books stacked onto your nightstand, a heavy and warm blanket on your shoulders and a book in your grasp. Your eyes devouring each word they flitted across the sentences on the page.
When you had come back, you had finally met some of the maids and butlers that worked in the mansion. They told you that Capitano wanted to speak with you alone before which was why they hadn’t been around. Which made sense. Being alone with Capitano would make anyone nervous. Especially you.
After you met the servants that worked for Capitano in his manor, they had left you to your own devices as you sought to read alone in your room.
Which was exactly what you did until night fell.
“M’lady, dinner is ready.”
“Alright! I’ll be down in a moment.”
That was another thing you had to get used to… others making food for you. It was definitely something you were never accustomed to even when you were younger.
“Please hurry down, Lord Capitano has already come home and is waiting for you.”
At the mention of his name you had slammed your book shut and tossed the covers off yourself as you rushed for the door. Swinging it open haphazardly, the maid behind it jumped a little in surprise.
“He’s here?!”
“Yes, he actually just got here-“
You hastily left your room and ran down the hall in the direction that you remember the dining room was. You weren’t a noble lady, not in the slightest. But you knew not to make a lord waiting. Father often scolded you for it. Especially since you had a tendency of getting too lost in your books when you should have been working.
“Ah, there she is,” you huffed a little as you smoothed out your dress. Your eyes scanning the room carefully.
Capitano was already sitting at his seat, your own seat was already prepared for you to his right.
Quickly trying to calm your racing heart, you carefully walked to your seat where a maid was waiting for you to pull your chair out for you.
“Capitano,” you greeted almost a bit shyly, “I’m sorry for making you wait.”
“I didn’t wait long.”
He turned to look at you, and you couldn’t deny the way your body fidgeted underneath his gaze.
“Did you find what you were looking for?”
You were surprised momentarily at his question. You wondered if he was asking because he was interested, but you quickly threw that thought out the window. He was probably just making small talk…
“Yes, I did. Though, I haven’t found a job yet.”
Capitano hmmed at the news, “was the cold alright?”
“I dressed warmly enough,” you answered.
Before he could ask anything else, you were thankful that the food started to come out from the kitchen, A true blessing in disguise as you fearfully came to realize that you didn’t know how to properly talk to the man. And I am supposed to sleep next to him tonight too?!
You mentally despaired over the thought. You desperately hoped you didn’t sleep walk or talk, because you didn’t want him to think any less of you than he already does.
“Thank you for the food!”
But you guessed that would be a problem for later tonight.
When dinner finally concluded and you found yourself walking next to Capitano, you couldn’t help but to give him a few side glances here and there. Throughout all of dinner you couldn’t help but to stress over sleeping next to the man, and now it was quickly becoming a reality!
Coming to your shared room, Capitano opened the door for you, and when you walked in, he walked past you and towards the bathroom that was on the far side.
“Did you shower today?”
You shook your head, “no, not yet.”
“Then join me.”
You paused and let his words sink in for a moment, “hah?”
Capitano looked to you, “you will not be having a traditional honeymoon and I hear that a substitute for such a thing will be spending time together.”
You started to fidget with your fingers, “well, I mean… that’s true, but its just as you said before. Don’t expect anything.”
Capitano fully turned to you then, “but is it not expected that a husband and wife spend time together?”
He got you there, and he was right on some level. Not to mention you wanted to be a little selfish.
This wasn’t a conventional wedding. You doubted you would be getting your own happy ending anytime soon, so why not take what he offers from time to time. He’s says not to expect anything, so what was wrong with taking what he does offer? Besides, what was the harm with bathing with a man?
Your confidence was quick to whither, however the moment you entered the bathroom with him. The shower already running hot as Capitano began to undress. You never saw a man naked before. Not once. And your naivety was beginning to show.
Oh wow, you thought as you got to see his bare chest. You thought his face was a work of art, but his upper body was something else.
“Get undressed,” he ordered, his tone a bit harsh as he started to unbuckle his pants.
Shakingly, you started to undo your buttons.
Despite being married to the man now, this whole situation made you unbearably nervous. Your original thoughts of just takin what he offered soon dwindling into ash. And just as you slipped out of your dress and undergarments and even undid your hair, you found yourself closing your eyes tight the moment you heard Capitano’s pants fall and pool around his feet.
You felt embarrassment course through your veins when you didn’t hear him say anything, but luckily you didn’t have to dwell on it when you felt his hand encase itself around your arm and pull you along and into the shower.
The warm water hit you immediately, making you relax momentarily.
“Is this not comforting to you?”
His voice sent shivers down your spine despite the hot water that soaked you. You could tell he was behind you, his chest barely touching your back.
“I- I am still getting used to being married, I’m afraid…”
“We do not have to consummate this marriage yet. Though, in order for this marriage to be be seen as legitimate, we will have to be intimate with one another eventually. However, I will not force you into such arrangements until you are… used to being married.”
“Is showering together a part of me getting used to it,” you asked.
“Yes and no.”
“What do you mean?”
“This is our honeymoon. But it is also a way for you to get used to me. Mainly because it is obvious you haven’t seen a naked man before.”
You felt your face heat up instantly, and it wasn’t because of the hot water.
“Look at me when I talk to you.”
He turned you around easily, the slip of the water not helping you in the slightest as you found yourself looking up at the harbinger. And as you looked up at his face, you were awestruck with how handsome he was. Archons truly have their favorites when blessing people with good looks.
“Still not looking at all of me, but that is alright. I don’t want you fainting again.”
His words had you blushing as he leant down to you. The action catching you off guard when he placed his lips over yours.
He was kissing you again.
“I heard it was custom to kiss on your honeymoon as well, among other things, but a kiss and shower shall do good for replacements instead,” he said against your lips before deepening the kiss.
It was the longest kiss you had with him so far. You didn’t know where to put your hands, or how to move your head, so you let him do all the work while also relaxing in the hot water that cascaded over you both as you closed your eyes.
This wasn’t a bad honeymoon.
But of course, what he gives is taken away all too soon as you find yourself preparing for bed. Your nightgown already thrown over you as you are already sitting in the bed and are waiting for him.
He gave you kiss to commemorate your wedding, and a kiss and a shower together for your honeymoon.
It was more than you expected, but you were thankful.
“I’ll be gone early in the morning.”
Capitano said as he exited the bathroom, “we will not see each other for next coming of weeks.”
“Is it a mission,” you asked.
“...Yes. While I am gone, I expect you to be loyal and do not worry about a job for now.”
It kind of hurt to know that he thinks you will cheat on him, but it was understandable. He knows nothing of you. Only that you embarrass yourself easily and come from the Hearth. But the same could be said for him. What if he cheats?
As he got into bed beside you, you found that you couldn’t voice your concerns. He still scared you after all.
“Goodnight… wife.”
The single title surprised you as did other things, but you ignored the light thumping of your heart as much as possible, “goodnight husband.”
You hoped that whatever the future had in store for you would be good.
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@nas-ha @simp-simp-no-mi @emmathecouchpotato4583 @sendria @riotakire @littlekohai77 @lvtuss @kreishin @floffytofu @nastylilcvnt @mikoslightnovels @feral-childs-word @barbatoss-bitch @venicecherryblossom @squirrelboxer @temperamentupgrade @naviabestgiirl @avalordream @immahuman @xavlyzn @greensunflowerjuna
some say "no blogs found" when I try to add them </3
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wosoluver · 2 days
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Oh, baby
Georgia Stanway x reader.
I know nothing about giving birth so bare with me. Also please don't kill me for the plot changes, Hope you like it!
Other players masterlist
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──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──
"Fuck!" you said feeling the warm liquid run down your legs. "No, no, no." You were staying over at her parents' house. Tomorrow would be the final match at the 2023 world cup and you would be gathered to watch the game there.
"Jo! We need to go, my water just broke!" you said grabbing her mother's attention. Her dad had gone to Australia to support her, but her mom refused leaving you, pregnant and alone. And you thanked the universe. You were 36 weeks, you were to give birth only next month. You had been feeling small contractions, that were apparently normal in the third trimester.
That was the only reason Georgia agreed to go.
A million thoughts went through your mind. Would the baby be okay? Would they have to do a C-section?
Would your fiancé be okay, knowing she missed the moment se was waiting so excited for? Were you even ready for this?
You started to cry immediately.
"Don't worry love, I'm calling her as soon as you're in the hospital."
"No please! You can't! You know her!" you said followed by a scream when you felt the sharp pain of a contraction hit you. "Please, please wait as much as we can. This is important for her, she needs to be a hundred percent focused."
"But seeing her daughter's birth is too..."
"I know but even if she knows, she'll won't get here in time. Please."
She only nodded agreeing with you. And you asked her to call your parents instead.
──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──
While you walked around the room, preparing yourself for the ride ahead, in attempt to stay sound, you thought about what had led you here.
You and Georgia had been together for almost six years.
You had met at Man City, both came from a small town and were around the same age, sharing the dream to become big players.
You started dating, and your relationship went through a lot.
You endured for years a long distance relationship, when you moved away to play in Spain and she stayed back in Manchester.
A couple of seasons later you transferred to Bayern, where your girlfriend soon followed suit.
And you both finally managed to start your life together.
She didn't want to wait any longer, all that time had been enough.
From living together to her proposing, life felt like pure bliss.
And after the 2022 euro's title, you felt like it was the right time to have a pause on your career.
It wasn't an easy decision, since the World Cup was around the corner.
But differently from your teammates, you now had a bigger dream, Georgia fully supported you, she herself had always wanted to be a mother.
You didn't expect for it to work so soon.
Along with the risks the doctors had told you, it could take more than one try.
Fortunately the whole pregnancy had been very healthy, and nothing gave you any reason to think something like this could happen.
You questioned yourself if you were doing the right thing, by not updating her on the matter.
──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──
Georgia's head was buzzing, Spain was winning by a goal. England had slightly recovered at the end of first half, but it wasn't enough.
She sat on the locker room, trying to cool down, zoning out a bit. All she could think of was winning this, to come home as a champion. For her girls.
She could have never imagined you had been in the hospital for the last couple of hours, let alone giving birth. So she didn't bother to look for her phone.
And before she knew, she was walking back to the field for the second half.
──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──
"Just one more push, yeah?"
And you did as a loud cry filled the room. And they placed her right on your chest.
You felt like you could pass out from how tired you were.
But you couldn't, yet.
"You did great darling." her mom cooed you in between tears.
"Is the game over yet?"
"Yes, they won second place." she handed your phone over.
You cried hard a the sound of that. She had been deprived of being champion and seeing her daughter's first moments in the same day, at the same time. You tried to recompose yourself while you pressed to facetime her.
ongoing call...
"Hey love, what took you so lon-" she managed to get out before shutting up at the realization. A big smile appearing in her tear stained face. "She's beautiful."
before she could say anything else, Lucy, who was prying at the video call, loudly announced to everyone.
"The baby is here!" and you could hear the girls cheering loudly. Running to try and congratulate you.
"You guys are so loud, geez." your soon to be wife said after a few moments, walking to a more private place, so you both could talk.
"I am so sorry." you said eyes filled with tears.
"We couldn't have known." she said giving you a reassuring smile. "I was going to show you this baby here," showing her silver medal at the camera. "But it seems like you're already holding our baby right there."
And for over ten minutes you two sat quietly, just admiring the angel you had brought into the world.
"Is she okay? I mean she clearly looks like it, but since she's early..."
"Better than expected actually. They said she's around 6.30 lbs and over 19 inches. Pretty big for a preterm. They'll run some tests in the morning, just to be sure." you said letting out a yawn.
"You need to get some sleep. And I'm getting on the first plane home."
"I love you, and I'm so proud of you."
"Oh baby, I'm the one who's proud. I love you. Both of you."
──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──
Maybe another part with G meeting baby Talia?
like & share pls!
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meazalykov · 2 days
Text
the critic
lena oberdorf x reader
summary: when lena gets tagged in a video clip, she approaches you
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before the cameras, before the viral clips, before the edits, before your voice became synonymous with women’s soccer commentary, there was your games itself.
you used to play, back in the day. soccer was your life—practices in the morning, matches on weekends, hours spent refining your craft, the feel of the ball at your feet something almost sacred. 
you had dreams, big ones, of playing at the highest level, maybe even for the national team. but that all came crashing down when a spinal injury took you out of the game. 
one bad fall, a rough tackle by three players at once in a crucial match, and suddenly, everything you had worked for was gone. 
the doctors said you were lucky to be walking and running again, but for a long time, it didn’t feel like luck. 
it felt like a curse, like soccer was ripped away from you when you were just starting to get your footing in the world of professional sports. 
lyon was close to signing you from your childhood club. however, that changed. the deal had to fail and so did your dream.
so you had to shift gears. you couldn’t play anymore, but you could talk about the game, share your insights, your passion, your love for it with the world. 
and, as it turned out, people loved listening to you. your analysis was sharp, your delivery honest, your humor was sweet, and soon enough, you became a well-known voice in women’s soccer commentary. 
you poured everything you couldn’t put on the pitch into your work, and it paid off.
now, here you are—2023, world cup, germany vs colombia. the stadium is electric, fans buzzing with anticipation. 
it’s your job to capture all of it, to bring the game to life for those watching at home. 
alongside you in the commentator’s booth is tyrell, your close friend and co-host for one of the biggest sports streaming sites in the world. 
you adjust your headset, eyes scanning the field as the camera pans over the players. 
"alright, tyrell, we’ve got quite the matchup today," you say, your voice carrying across the broadcast. 
"germany is looking to bounce back after their last game, and colombia has been on fire in their latest matches with caicedo. it’s anyone’s game today."
"no doubt," tyrell agrees. 
“but you know i’ve got my eye on germany’s midfield. lena oberdorf, she’s got a lot of weight on her shoulders in this one. one of the best defensive midfielders in the world is on the pitch tonight." he finishes. 
you nod, your gaze locking onto oberdorf as she moves across the pitch. 
she’s been a standout for years—strong, composed, a true force in the midfield. 
you’ve always admired the way she plays, the way she commands respect on the field as she will roughly stop any opponent attack. 
but today, something feels off. you’ve been watching her closely during the first half, and you can’t help but feel like she’s holding back.
"honestly," you start, pausing to gather your thoughts, "i expected more from oberdorf during that first half."
there’s a brief silence as tyrell turns to look at you, his eyebrows raised in surprise. 
it’s not often that you call out a player like that, especially someone as highly regarded as oberdorf. 
"really?" he asks, curious. "what do you think’s going on with her?"
you lean forward slightly, watching as the replay of germany’s midfield play rolls across your monitor. 
"she’s not playing with her usual aggression. oberdorf is known for her ability to dominate the midfield, to break up play and transition quickly. but today, she’s been hesitant. this can’t continue if they don’t want someone like caicedo to get in their box. oberdorf needs to press harder, get more involved in the attack. if she steps it up in the second half, she can make the difference that germany needs."
your words hang in the air for a moment before tyrell responds, and the conversation shifts back to the overall match. 
but you can’t shake the feeling that your comment will stir something up. 
sure enough, by the time the game is over—colombia managing to scrape by with a fantastic win—your phone is buzzing nonstop. 
social media is ablaze with the clip of you critiquing oberdorf, the internet having latched onto the rare moment where you offered up something negative about a player you so clearly admired.
fans of both you and lena are eating it up, dissecting your analysis, making memes, and some even suggesting you had ulterior motives. 
it doesn’t help that you’ve been vocal in the past about your respect for oberdorf’s game. 
and maybe, if you’re being totally honest, there’s more to it than just respect. 
you’ve followed her career closely, always a little more interested in her games than others. not that you’d ever admit to having a bit of a crush on her—not publicly, anyway.
across the city, at the team hotel, lena oberdorf is stretched out on her bed, headphones in, trying to decompress after the match. 
her body is exhausted, germany didn’t get the result they needed. her phone buzzes with notifications, but she ignores it for now, lost in her thoughts.
that is, until laura freigang walks in, a mischievous grin on her face and her phone in hand. 
"lena," she says, her voice sings, "it looks like someone’s got their eye on you."
lena sits up, raising an eyebrow. "what are you talking about?"
laura tosses her phone onto the bed, and lena catches it, her eyes narrowing as she watches the video that’s already queued up. 
it’s you, sitting in the commentator’s booth, talking about her. her. 
"honestly, i expected more from oberdorf during that first half."
lena blinks, her mind processing the words. she’s used to hearing praise, especially from someone like you, who’s usually more positive in your analysis. 
but this? it feels different. not harsh, but… honest. like you know she could do better, and that, in a weird way, feels almost flattering.
"see?" laura says, flopping onto the bed next to her. 
"she noticed you. she expects more from you, lena."
lena rolls her eyes, but she can’t hide the faint smile tugging at her lips. 
it’s no secret, at least among her teammates, that she’s always found you attractive. she’s mentioned it once or twice—half-joking, half-serious—how she watches your broadcasts not just for the analysis but because, well, you’re easy on the eyes. 
but she never thought it would go beyond that. you were based in new york city, worlds away from her, and probably didn’t even know she existed outside of your job.
but now? maybe things have changed.
"i don’t want to get your hopes up because it could’ve been a simple analysis but maybe this is your shot," laura adds, nudging lena with her elbow. 
"go for it. what’s the worst that could happen?"
lena hesitates, the idea forming in her mind. it’s bold, sure, but she’s never been one to shy away from taking risks. "yeah… maybe i will."
later that night, you’re sitting in the hotel bar, winding down after a long day of commentary in australia. 
the buzz from the viral clip still lingers in the back of your mind, and you’re half-expecting to get some flak for it. but instead, it seems like people are more entertained by the whole thing than anything else. 
you take a sip of your drink, eyes scanning the room, when you hear a voice behind you.
"hey y/n-- I'm sorry, uh I hope i’m not interrupting."
you turn, and your breath catches in your throat for just a second. it’s lena oberdorf, standing right in front of you, looking a little nervous but still carrying that air of confidence she always has on the pitch.
how did she find you? maybe the german national team stayed nearby? i mean, you were told this was a popular bar in sydney.
however, why would lena go to a bar if she has to prepare for the important match against south korea?
"not at all," you manage, trying to keep your cool despite the sudden rush of nerves.
"what’s up?"
"i, uh, saw the clip," she says, rubbing the back of her neck. "the one where you talked about me."
you chuckle softly, feeling a slight flush in your cheeks. "yeah… i didn’t mean to come off too harsh. just being honest, you know?"
you didn’t know how to react, so you smile. no player has confronted you about your comments before. this is a first.
"no, i get it," she smiles, her eyes locking onto yours. 
"honesty’s good. i just… wanted to ask if you’d like to grab dinner sometime. maybe when you’re in germany next? i’d love to take you out." lena speaks in perfect english. 
you blink, surprised by the offer. of all the things you expected tonight, this wasn’t one of them. but looking at her now, her smile genuine and her eyes soft with hope, you can’t help but smile back.
"yeah," you say, heart racing just a little. "i’d like that."
you were a little older than her, older by two years, but she carried herself in a way that pulled you to her.
the world feels a little smaller, the distance between you and lena shrinking with a single conversation. 
you think that maybe you should critic her more often, kidding— of course.
my masterlist is here if you want to read more fics <3
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sturniqlo · 2 days
Text
Spilled Water- M.S
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summary: where pregnant!reader films a video with the triplets and her water breaks and matt is freaking out. BLURB
cw: cursing, panicking(?)
an: lowercase intended
masterlist | join my taglist
-----------------------------------------------
"no! the cooking oil! that's y/n's coconut oil!" nick, wearing a chef hat and a white apron, snatches the small mason jar from chris' hands. "what is my coconut oil even doing here?" y/n waddles to nick to grab it. "i went to grab it from your bathroom, i thought nick had said coconut oil." chris explains.
"how'd you hear- nevermind." nick sighs and returns to the mixing bowl. "i don't know where their stuff is!" both nick and chris had came over to matt and y/n's apartment as y/n was nearing the end of her pregnancy and matt didn't want her to be alone in case she went into labor.
"the oil is in the kitchen, genius." matt says, and turns to the cabinet where the oil sits behind. "okay, guys, today we are making a cake from scratch!" nick holds up the empty mixing bowl and talks to the camera. "usually we bake boxed cakes, so we decided to switch it up for todays video. and don't worry, we have the expert here, y/n!" she shyly waves to the camera.
she's been in a couple of their videos and the fans adored her. "guys, y/n makes these really good chocolate croissants, but the boss man nick wanted a fucking cake." chris crosses his arms. "hey, what's wrong with cake? we," y/n points to her face and her swollen belly. "also wanted cake." matt laughs. "thank you, y/n and baby. see, chris, i'm not the only one who wanted cake."
"alright, enough about who wanted cake. let's get this show on the road." matt drapes his arm around his pregnant girlfriends shoulders. "okay, chris, pour in two cups of flour." nick reads off of his phone. "where are the measuring cups?" chris looks around. "ugh! motherfucker look around!"
"don't be mean to chris." y/n walks away from matt's hold and opens the drawer to grab the measuring cups. "thank you-" chris starts off. "it's not our fault he's a little bit different." y/n breaks out into a laugh and nick and matt follow her. "okay, okay stop it! i think i peed a little. she's pressing on my bladder."
"alright now that we have all of our dry ingredients mixed together, we're going to add in our wet ingredients." matt says. "how many cups of water do we need?" y/n asks, a bit in discomfort. she's been having a bit of braxton hicks lately, but her doctor said to not worry. however, these were a bit different but, she didn't really pay too much attention to it.
nick tells her how much and she walks towards the sink and pours it. as she walks back nick gasps. "y/n, you spilled the water on yourself." he points to her stained grey sweatpants. "what? no i didn't, look." she holds up the cup that holds the water.
"babe, your water broke!" matt says with widened eyes. "oh my god!" she sets down the cup on the counter and looks down, sure enough her water did break. "i- i don't know how i didn't feel it." she giggles. "chris go- go grab the baby bag it's in the- in the- fuck- the closet by the uh- the door." matt stumbles over his words. chris doesn't do anything but nod and hurry off to get the bag.
"oh my gosh, she's coming? like now?" nick says, y/n laughs as she can't take him seriously with the chef hat on. "y/n, come on, we need to take you to the hospital!" matt places a hand on the small of her back and leads her to the door.
"matt, baby, wait. i need to change my pants." she turns and walks into their shared room. "what? no, you're fine like this! you're in labor." matt says, running a hand through his hair. "hey, calm down, okay." y/n reassures him and holds his face in her hands. "i'm feeling fine as of now, i think we still have some time until i start getting contractions."
"okay, are- are you sure?" she nods. "i'm sure."
"oh!" y/n shrieks, putting a hand on her back as she stands in front of the bathroom counter. she was brushing her hair until she got her very first contraction. "matt, get the car ready!" she take a deep breath and tries to ignore the pain. "come on, come on! chris has the bag, is it okay if they come?"
"i don't care if- fuck." she gets a strong one. "it's okay, you're okay." he kisses her forehead and walks her out the room. "chris lock the door. her keys are on the table." matt tells chris as nick now holds her and walks her out the door. "how are you feeling?" nick says. "like im about to give birth."
"wait! what about the cake?" chris says.
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amiableness · 2 days
Text
Peonies ; part two
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Pairing: Theo Nott x Fem!Reader
Summary: Theo has been taking his role of helping reader get over Mattheo very seriously.
Word Count: 4842
Warnings: Unrequited love & Veronica isn't the kindest. Let me know if there's more; I probably forgot something.
A/N 💌 Thank you for your patience with me on this part; I know it took a while! As always, thank you to @moonpascal for reading and sharing your thoughts/ideas with me! Can't wait to hear your thoughts on this chapter!
SERIES MASTERLIST <3
It’s well past midnight when a knock echoes at your door. You sigh, adjusting your shorts as you reluctantly crawl off your bed, leaving your notes sprawled across the covers. As you swing the door open, you find Theo standing there, his gaze lifting from the floor to meet yours. A hesitant smile plays on his lips, as if he’s unsure whether he’s welcome at this late hour.
“Hi.” You greet him with a mix of confusion and warmth, offering a sweet smile. You pull the door open wider, and Theo’s gaze briefly flickers over your tiny sleep shorts and oversized shirt before he meets your eyes again.
“Pansy’s at our dorm.” He says, his voice soft.
You let out a quiet laugh, “I know that.”
He hesitates, searching for the right words. “I just thought... maybe you wouldn’t want to be alone tonight.”
“Oh,” you say, surprised, your lips parting as you glance over your shoulder into your room. Theo’s heart races, a wave of panic surging through him as he mentally scolds himself for not holding back. Offering to stay the night with you felt impulsive, but the moment he saw Pansy enter his dorm, his thoughts had gone straight to you.
“Shit,” Theo shifts uncomfortably, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, the words tumbling out before he can stop them. “I just—when I saw Pansy, I couldn’t help but think you might need someone tonight. But if you’d rather be alone, I can go.”
After you asked Theo to help you get over Mattheo, you wondered if it had been too much to ask of him. But to your surprise, you’ve spent nearly every day of the past three weeks with Theo. You knew he had his own worries—between school, Quidditch, and the pressure from his father. But the morning after you asked for his help, he was there. 
You never expected him to put so much effort into helping you move on from Mattheo, but you couldn’t be more grateful. 
“No,” you quickly respond, a smile spreading across your face as you reach out and grasp his hand, gently tugging him inside. “I’m glad you came.”
Theo visibly relaxes at your touch, allowing you to gently pull him into the room. As the door clicks shut behind him, sealing out the quiet corridor, his initial hesitation melts away. He takes in the familiar surroundings of your room, which, despite being a bit messier than usual, feels even more comforting in the warm, dim light with you.
He swallows his disappointment as you release his hand to clear your bed of scattered notes. Standing there awkwardly, he tries to keep his gaze focused, making an effort not to let his eyes drift down your legs as you lean over to pick up the last piece of parchment.
After you place everything neatly on your desk, you turn to face him, leaning casually against the edge with a soft smile. “Are you okay with sharing my bed again?” you ask, your voice light but sincere. “Or if you’d prefer, I can sleep in Pansy’s bed so you’ll have more room.”
Theo bites his tongue, fighting to keep his voice steady and avoid sounding overeager. He doesn’t want more room; what he wants is to wake up with you pressed close against him, just as he did weeks ago. This time, though, he’s determined to stay and enjoy the feeling of you in his arms.
He clears his throat, “Your bed is fine.”
“I was actually about to head to bed before you knocked, but I can stay up if you wanted to do something.” You offer, your voice gentle and inviting.
Theo shakes his head slightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips, “Thanks, but I’m pretty wiped out from practice today.” He admits, and you can hear the exhaustion seeping through his words.
“You should’ve gone to bed at your dorm, you would’ve been asleep sooner.” You say with a slight frown as you notice just how tired he looks from the day.
“No,” He shrugs. “I wouldn’t have been able to sleep knowing you were here alone.”
If your heart could have melted, it would have done so right then.
Theo's eyes hold yours for a moment longer before he glances away, almost as if he's embarrassed by his own admission. You press your lips together, trying to hide the giddy smile threatening to break through. The idea that he cared that much for you made your insides flutter, warmth spreading through your chest.
Pushing away from the desk, you walk over to your bed and pull back the covers. Theo watches as you crawl in, adjusting the pillows with practiced ease before looking back at him. The unspoken question hangs in the air—are you going to join me?
He hesitates, slowly dropping his bag at the foot of your bed before moving closer to the edge. He’s slept in a bed with a girl before, but this feels wildly different. You make him nervous, and he has no idea how to hide it when he’s this close to you.
You settle into the covers, the mattress dipping slightly under your weight as you shift, and watch as Theo does the same, kicking off his shoes and slipping under the covers beside you.
Once the lights are off, silence settles between you, thick and unspoken. The only sound in the room is the soft rustling of sheets as Theo shifts beside you. You lie on your side, trying to make out his form in the darkness as your eyes slowly adjust. You can tell he’s lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling, lost in his own thoughts.
“I appreciate everything you’ve done for me the past couple weeks.” You say softly, and Theo turns his head to look at you.
“Yeah?”
You hum, reaching out your fingers to brush against his hand, and he takes it without hesitation, his grip warm and reassuring, “Yeah.”
It’s become a habit in the last couple of weeks—intertwining his fingers with yours. He would grab your hand every time he noticed your discomfort around Mattheo and Veronica. And at some point, you just started reaching for his hand yourself. You liked the warmth of his palm against yours and the way he’d brush his thumb over the back of your hand.
“You know I don’t mind, right? Spending all this time with you has been nice. We never really hung out much, just us two.” He says softly.
You nod, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his words. “Yeah, I know. It’s been nice for me too,” you admit, your eyes meeting his in the dark. You both fall into silence, and it doesn’t take long before you drift off to sleep, your hand still clasped in his.
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
Panic hits as you suddenly realize the time—you’re running late. By now, you should already be at breakfast.
“Theo,” you whisper urgently, trying to shift out of his hold. The sheets are tangled around your legs, your back pressed firmly against his chest. His arms are locked around your waist, holding you close, and he’s not loosening his grip. His body is warm against yours, and even as you try to move, his grip tightens slightly, like he’s not ready to let go just yet. “Theo.”
“Dolcezza,” he murmurs, voice rough with sleep, and you freeze at the sound of that deeper, morning rasp. “Quit moving.” His grip tightens just enough to keep you still, his breath warm against the back of your neck.
“We have to get up,” you huff, trying to slip out of his arms, but Theo just pulls you back against him, his hold firm. “We’re late.”
“We’ll just skip.” He mutters, his voice still low and groggy. The idea is tempting—staying wrapped in his warmth instead of braving the cold corridors—but you sigh inwardly, knowing better.
You’d grown used to Theo’s small gestures of affection over the past few weeks, and you’d been just as affectionate in return. But waking up tangled in his arms like this felt different—more intimate. You were certain that once Theo fully woke up, he’d be a little sheepish about how closely he was holding you now.
“We really can’t,” you sigh, trying once more. “We need to get going—” Theo grumbles in response, finally loosening his grip and releasing you. A triumphant smile tugs at your lips as you slip out of bed, quickly heading to get ready. You race through brushing your teeth and pull on your uniform, skipping any attempt at fixing your hair in the rush. By the time you step out of the bathroom, Theo is standing by the bed, just finishing the last button on his shirt, looking just as disheveled as you feel.
You hurry Theo out of your room as he finishes brushing his teeth, and he complies, adjusting his tie as you both sprint toward the Great Hall. Just before entering the bustling breakfast scene, you grab Theo by the arm, pausing to smooth down his disheveled hair. 
“Is it a mess?” He asks, watching you closely as you stand on your toes to thread your fingers through his hair in an attempt to fix it.
“Just a bit,” you smile, stepping back on your heels and giving his hair a final nod of approval. “How’s mine?”
“Pretty,” Theo responds immediately, his gaze lingering. “I’ve never seen your hair like this before.” 
You bite the inside of your cheek to stifle your smile at his compliment. You had let your hair fall naturally, and his reaction makes you feel unexpectedly warm.
You mumble a shy “thank you” before leading the way into the Great Hall, Theo trailing close behind. His cheeks are still tinged pink from the way your fingers had grazed through his hair, and he’s quietly grateful you haven’t seemed to notice. However, his relief is short-lived when he catches Draco’s eye, who immediately notices the pink tint and raises an eyebrow in amused surprise.
As you make your way to the table, Draco leans back in his seat with a smirk, raising an eyebrow. “Well, well, if it isn’t the lovebirds gracing us with their presence.”
“Fuck off.” Theo grumbles under his breath as he lets you slide into your new seat before settling in beside you. Ever since your usual spot had been taken, you’d claimed the one next to Theo, and not just in the Great Hall. You found yourself gravitating toward him in class, the common room—anywhere you could. It had become a quiet, unspoken habit, one that neither of you seemed keen on breaking.
“I should’ve figured that’s where you disappeared to last night,” Enzo says with a knowing smirk. “You two have been spending an awful lot of time together lately, haven’t you?”
You really had. Theo had taken to meeting you outside your last class of the day, content to walk around the castle or lake just so you could avoid witnessing Mattheo and Veronica together. You had learned he was the perfect study partner—far more patient than Mattheo, who would get restless after twenty minutes and start pleading for a break. He seemed to remember every little detail you shared, from how you took your tea to the smallest quirks about yourself.
He’d been so attentive to you that you overheard some girls in the year below talking about how Theo Nott was no longer single.
Theo gives him a flat, unimpressed glare, clearly not in the mood for Enzo's comments, “Yet again, fuck off.”
“Well, have you two got anything to tell us?” Blaise presses, a smug grin tugging at his lips. Theo looks up from serving himself breakfast, shooting Blaise a sharp, warning glance. He could handle the teasing from the boys himself, but he didn't want you to be caught in the crossfire, especially if it made you uncomfortable.
“No.” Theo replies flatly, his gaze flicking to you. You return it with an amused, yet sympathetic smile. Unconsciously, a soft, faint smile tugs at his lips, a detail the boys are quick to notice.
“Are you sure? Because—” Blaise starts but is quickly interrupted.
“I think you two would be perfect together,” Veronica cuts in, her voice dripping with an overly sweet tone as she flashes a saccharine smile. “Don’t you think so, Matty?” she adds, glancing over at Mattheo with a raised eyebrow.
Your eyes meet Mattheo’s for a fleeting moment, and he holds your gaze. You barely registered them, so absorbed in the boys' teasing of you and Theo. For just a moment, there's something unreadable in his gaze—something that makes your heart falter—but it vanishes as quickly as it appeared.
“Yeah,” he agrees, his gaze shifting between you and Theo while Veronica cozies up to him, resting her head on his shoulder. “You two would be.”
A knot tightens in your stomach, and your appetite evaporates. The lightness you’d felt just moments before vanishes, replaced by a heavy weight. Even though you knew Mattheo didn’t have feelings for you, hearing him so openly agree with the idea of you with Theo stings more than you expected.
As long as you’d known him, Mattheo had never been in a serious relationship, let alone had a girlfriend. Now that he was with Veronica, it was painfully clear that you were never truly an option for him. If you had been, he would have made a move. You had dropped hints for years, and his playful flirting had always kept your hopes alive.
But maybe that’s all your relationship was ever meant to be—a friendship with a hint of flirtation. If that’s the case, you needed to move on. Fixating on a guy who now had a girlfriend was a losing battle. If you weren’t careful, you might risk losing the friendship you valued so much.
You’re so caught up in your thoughts, pushing the food around on your plate, that you don’t even hear the chatter of your friends going on around you. It isn’t until Enzo tosses a grape at you that you glance up, “Are you coming tonight?”
You immediately know he’s referring to the Quidditch match. You’d missed the last game, which had surprised everyone, but given your recent mood, it hadn’t been unexpected.
You nod. “I planned on it.”
“Good,” Pansy interjects matter-of-factly. “I missed having you there.” You offer her a smile, but it falters when you see Veronica nudge Mattheo. He clears his throat and turns to you, his expression unreadable.
“Speaking of the game,” Mattheo starts, his voice slicing through the breakfast chatter. “I need my jersey back.”
Your brows knit together in confusion, and it takes you a moment to find your voice, “I don’t understand—”
“My jersey,” Mattheo repeats, his gaze steady as he watches you. “I need it for tonight.”
“Did something happen to yours?” You ask, caught off guard. You’d always kept one of his jerseys while he kept the other. It had become a sort of tradition between you.
Mattheo hesitates momentarily, a flicker of something like regret crossing his features. “No, it’s just... I need it back now.”
“Oh.” You say softly, your voice barely more than a whisper. Veronica’s eyes dart between the two of you, her brow knitting in irritation as she takes in the way Mattheo’s gaze lingers on you.
Theo’s eyes watch you with careful intensity. And when he catches the fleeting hurt in your expression, he reaches out and intertwines his fingers with yours beneath the table, his touch reminding you that he’s there if you need him. You squeeze his hand back immediately.
“I’m wearing it,” Veronica interjects, her tone harsh. “I’m his girlfriend. It would be a bit strange if you kept wearing it.”
Your friends exchange glances, their confusion palpable as they watch Mattheo allow Veronica to speak to you with such disdain. They’ve seen him start fights over someone supposedly speaking badly of you, so this new passivity is surprising. Enzo’s eyes widen in disbelief, and he mouths a quick ‘what the hell’ to Draco, whose puzzled expression mirrors his own.
When you remain silent, Veronica sighs impatiently, “Did you hear me—”
“Yeah, I get it,” you snap, your frustration evident. You turn your gaze back to Mattheo. “I’ll give it to you later.”
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
You spent all your classes obsessing over returning Mattheo’s jersey, and no matter how hard you tried, it was getting under your skin. It wasn’t just any jersey—it was the one Mattheo had given you, the one you’d worn countless times. His new relationship with Veronica had stung, but this felt even worse. Maybe it was because taking back the jersey felt like a tangible sign that Mattheo was serious about Veronica, and it drove home the reality of how much things had changed.
Logically, you understood why it was reasonable. Having another girl wear your boyfriend’s jersey would be uncomfortable, and if the roles were reversed, you’d feel the same way. But knowing that didn’t make it any easier. You couldn’t stand Veronica, and the thought of giving up something that meant so much to you—both the jersey and Mattheo—was unbearable.
As you walked back to your dorm, you considered skipping the match entirely. However, you and Pansy had made plans to sit together, and you’d also promised Mattheo you’d return his jersey. As much as you wanted to avoid the situation, you knew you had to go.
You were so irritated as you snatched Mattheo’s jersey off the back of your chair that you hadn’t even noticed the red peonies and green jersey sitting on your bed at first. It wasn’t until you tossed your bag aside and went to fix your hair that the unexpected sight caught your eye.
Your eyes landed on the familiar green jersey, the back facing up so you could clearly see ‘Nott’ stitched in bold, unmistakable letters. A smile tugged at your lips, your earlier frustration fading as you reached for the flowers, their soft petals brushing against your fingers. Carefully, you lifted them, already picturing them in a vase on your desk. 
There’s a card tucked between the blooms, and you smile at Theo’s handwriting: Dolcezza—wear this for me tonight?
Suddenly, the idea of going to the match didn’t seem so dreadful anymore—if anything, it felt like something you could actually look forward to.
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
“Finally!” Veronica calls out the moment she spots you, her voice laced with impatience. “I was starting to think you weren’t going to show.” She stands outside the boys' locker room, arms crossed like she's been waiting for ages.
You resist the urge to roll your eyes, “I told Mattheo I would be here.”
“I know,” She says, her tone short, before sticking out her hand expectantly. “I can take that.”
You hesitate, wanting to wait and give it to Mattheo yourself, but you know she’ll be the one wearing the jersey tonight. It feels pointless to hold onto it any longer. With a reluctant sigh, you hand it over, and Veronica’s lips curl into a triumphant smile as she takes it from you.
“Thanks.” She chirps, instantly brighter now that she’s got what she wanted. You watch as she slips the jersey on, and a slight bitterness creeps into your chest at the sight of it on her. She finishes adjusting the jersey and looks up, sending you a smug smirk that makes your stomach twist.
In the last week or so, you've noticed her once-sweet attitude starting to crack. At first, she was nothing but kind, almost to the point where you questioned if it was genuine. But now, the subtle comments slipping through made it clear—she didn’t like you, and you couldn’t figure out why.
Sure, you were close with Mattheo, but if the jersey was any indication, she had no real reason to worry. 
You were nothing but a friend to Mattheo, even though you desperately wished that wasn’t the case.
She eyes the jersey you're wearing, quirking an eyebrow as if she's about to say something snide. You brace yourself, waiting for the comment, but then her face lights up as her attention shifts to something—or someone—behind you.
You turn just as she brushes past you, wrapping her arms around Mattheo’s neck and pulling him down for a kiss. The sight makes your stomach twist, and you quickly avert your gaze, unable to bear watching them. Her giggles fill the air, loud and lovesick, a blatant declaration that he’s hers now.
“Whose jersey are you wearing?” Your eyes snap over to Mattheo, who has one arm around Veronica’s waist as he looks at you curiously. Her arms are tightly wrapped around his neck, and she looks frustrated that his attention is on you. 
“Mine.” You glance over and see Theo approaching, a flicker of relief washing over you. A genuine smile spreads across your face, and before you think it through, you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a hug. He looks momentarily surprised but quickly gathers himself, encircling your waist and holding you firmly.
You lean back slightly to meet his gaze, your voice softening. “Thank you for the flowers. Again.”
A warm, gentle smile blooms on his lips, the kind he reserves just for you. “Anytime, dolcezza.”
A moment lingers between you, where your eyes lock and soft smiles play on your lips. But the spell shatters at Veronica's excited squeal of Mattheo's name. You clear your throat, gently pulling away and offering Theo a fleeting smile, even though you sense his disappointment at the loss of your warmth.
Your gaze drifts toward Mattheo, who leans in to press a kiss against Veronica's lips, a pang of longing twisting in your chest. You exhale slowly, then look back at Theo. “Are you nervous?”
“Not really,” he replies with a casual shrug, though you catch a flicker of something beneath his calm exterior. “But if I do get nervous, I’ll just search for the pretty girl wearing my name.”
Your lips part in surprise at Theo’s bold flirting, a playful spark igniting in your chest. You try to mask your smile, but it’s no use—Theo sees right through you, a knowing grin spreading across his face as he revels in your reaction.
“Good luck. I’ll wait for you after.” You lean in, nearly whispering as you press a kiss against Theo's cheek, but in your nervousness, your lips brush against the corner of his mouth instead. The contact sends a spark of warmth through you, but before he can react, you pull away, leaving him to watch you walk off, the letters of his last name boldly displayed on your back.
He stands there for a second, staring after you, but as he turns to leave, he catches sight of Mattheo, who is watching you with an intensity that makes his heart sink.
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
You’re exhausted. Keeping track of both Mattheo and Theo is proving to be more tiring than you anticipated. You're used to focusing solely on Mattheo during the game, but tonight, your attention keeps shifting to Theo.
“Are you even listening to her?” Pansy scoffs, jabbing you in the ribs.
The unexpected nudge jolts you from your thoughts, and you turn to her, puzzled. “What?”
“Veronica. Are you paying attention?” Pansy glances over, raising an eyebrow.
You shake your head, “No. I didn’t even realize she was sitting nearby.”
“Listen to her. She’s been bragging about Mattheo.” That catches your attention. You follow Pansy’s finger as she points, and your gaze lands on Veronica a few rows ahead. As you focus, her voice cuts through the noise of the crowd, loud and unmistakable, carrying clearly despite the distance.
“Do you even know how long I waited to get him?” Veronica’s voice rises above the noise, smug and self-satisfied. You glance over just in time to see her gather her hair into a high ponytail, making sure the name on her back is fully visible. “Honestly, the effort was exhausting,” she adds with a dramatic sigh, as if she’s endured a great hardship.
The girls around her practically explode with excitement, bombarding her with questions—how did she do it? How long did it take? What’s he like? Their voices blend into a high-pitched buzz, and you roll your eyes, feeling the irritation build as you turn your attention back to the match, hoping to tune them out.
Pansy nudges you again, her voice low and insistent. “Keep listening.”
“No.” You grit out.
Pansy sighs, “Why not?”
You exhale sharply. “Because I really don’t want to hear her go on and on about him anymore.” The bitterness in your voice is hard to hide, but you don’t care. You’re too tired of hearing his name on her lips.
“You’ve barely listened!”
“It was enough for me.”
“There’s something off about the way she talks about him,” Pansy pushes, leaning in to try and catch your eye, but you continue looking forward and watching Theo. “I don’t like it.”
“I mean, I don’t either. But I’m not going to keep listening in.” “Why?” Pansy cries out incredulously, gaining the attention of some people around you.
“Because I’m supposed to be getting over him, and I don’t think listening in as his girlfriend talks about him will do that.”
“But what if somethings off? What if she’s blackmailing him or something?” Pansy asks, before she gasps and turns to face you fully. “What if he’s dating her to make you jealous?”
“Do you really think Mattheo Riddle would allow someone to blackmail him? And secondly, I don’t think that’s the case.”
“You never know. I always thought he had feelings for you.”
“Pansy. This is what I’m talking about,” You snap, sending a warning look to your best friend. “Mattheo can take care of himself, you and I both know that. There’s no way I’ll ever get over him if I start making up theories about why he’s with his girlfriend. Veronica’s a bitch, we know that, but that doesn’t mean she’s not with him for a genuine reason.”
Pansy exhales in frustration, adjusting in her seat as she finally turns her attention to the match. “Alright, I get it. I'll just share my theories with Blaise from now on.”
A smirk tugs at your lips as you imagine Blaise enduring the same conversation, likely rolling his eyes in exasperation, “Fine by me.”
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。. Thanks to Theo's swift catch of the Snitch, Slytherin secured the win, and the stands erupted in cheers. You'd screamed so loudly in celebration that you're certain he heard you, even from across the pitch. The thrill of the moment filled you with energy, and you felt a surge of pride as he glanced your way after the catch.
You were eager to congratulate him, but held back, letting the others swarm him first. Instead, you were leaned against the wall outside the locker room, waiting for a moment alone with him. As you stood there, it wasn’t long before your mind wandered. You found yourself watching him from afar—his chest still heaving from the intensity of the match, hair tousled and damp with sweat. There was something about the way he looked after a game that had your thoughts trailing off in a completely different direction.
Had Theo Nott always been this gorgeous?
When he turns and catches your eye, you fully expect him to give the usual 'wait a minute' gesture, like Mattheo always does. But instead, to your surprise, Theo pushes straight through the crowd. In an instant, he's in front of you, pulling you up into his arms. You let out a shriek of his name through laughter, completely caught off guard by the sudden hug, his embrace warm and tight as if he'd been waiting for this moment all along.
“You did so good!” You cry out as he sets you down. When he grins at you, it’s almost enough to make you swoon; the sight of post-match Theo is something you hadn’t realized you’d been missing. The blend of adrenaline and joy radiating from him leaves you momentarily breathless.
“It’s because you wore my jersey,” he shrugs, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I didn’t get to say it earlier, but you look really good in it.”
You nearly melt, “Does that mean I get to wear it at the next game?”
“Please do, dolcezza,” he says, his tone suddenly softer, the endearment dripping with warmth like honey. There’s a sincerity in his gaze that sends a flutter through your chest. “You make it look far better than I ever could.”
You don’t get the chance to respond as Enzo suddenly appears by his side, rambling on about something animatedly. With a quick tug, Enzo pulls Theo away, but not before he glances back, shouting over his shoulder about how he’ll see you tonight.
please consider reblogging or leaving a comment! it keeps me motivated to write, and reblogs help to spread my work 🤍
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adayumantium · 2 days
Text
Too Sweet
Old Man Logan x fem!Reader Smut
a/n: Y’all LOVED Anybody Seen My Baby, and I’m on an Old Man Logan kick… divider by anitalenia Summary: in which Logan makes you dessert, but the toppings end up being used for…other things.  W/C: 700……..oops tags/warnings: Porn with ZEROOOO Plot, SMUT! MDNI!, Implied age gap (bro is 200+), pet names (princess, doll, sweetheart), titty sucking, LOGAN EATING WHIPPED CREAM OFF OF YOU. 
“This is so good,” you try to enunciate, your mouth full. “You need to try this,” you nod, holding out a spoonful of dessert to Logan. The two of you were snuggled on the couch, the ottoman full of little fix-ins for a sundae; you had a craving, and Logan was the kind of man who’d satisfy it. He shook his head, taking a gentle hand to your chin and wiping ice cream off of your mouth with a smile. 
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“That’s all you, doll. I can’t eat all that sugary shit anymore,” Logan shrugged. 
“Since when do you care what you should and should not be putting in your body?” you rolled your eyes, knowing the way he almost exclusively drank whiskey. 
“Don’t talk back to me, sweetheart,” he warned, kissing your jaw. Logan’s beard brushing your neck sent electricity through you. You buried your thoughts in your ice cream, hoping to distract yourself from the heat making its way to your face. 
“I just don’t think it could be that sweet,” you turned with a smile, pressing your lips to his. Logan’s lips were warm against your frozen ones; with a pass of your tongue, you let him taste your sundae, eager to share its sweetness with him. 
“Mm,” he grunted. “Guess that’s not too bad,” he nodded with approval. “But I’d have to make sure,” Logan’s hands snaked their way behind your head, pulling you closer as he went in for another taste of you. “Mm, yeah, that’s delectable, princess,” he reaffirmed. 
As the gears in your mind turned, you pulled your shirt over your head without a second thought, reaching over for the whipped cream canister. You were left bare-chested, the air making your nipples pebble, which intrigued Logan further. You sprayed across your collarbone, the white fluff cooling your skin as the sweet smell filled your nose. Logan started to catch on, everything shifting into place in his mind. 
“Oh,” he muttered, leaning forward to your jaw once more. Logan’s left hand found its way to your breast as he kissed his way down your neck softly; the stimulation was gentle and fiery all at once, making you hazy with pleasure. His mouth traveled down your neck, his tongue lapping at your skin. Logan took a bit of whipped cream into his mouth, smacking his lips, before dragging his tongue slowly across the rest of your collarbone. The sweet smell of the dessert was mixing with the intoxicating smell of Logan on your chest, and it was enough to make someone drool. 
“Shit, yeah, that’s good,” he nodded, taking the whipped cream from you. In his much larger hands, the can looked comically small. 
With a grunt, Logan latched himself onto your neck, taking your skin between his teeth; the way he was consuming you, you’d think he was getting the confection off of you, despite there never being any in that spot. Without looking, he covers your breasts with whipped cream, leaving kisses down your neck as he goes to take one of your nipples into his mouth. 
“Y’know, you were right, this is definitely satisfyin’ a craving,” Logan huffed, his tongue circling your hard nipple in an attempt to lick it clean. “I mean,” he shifted to the other, “hell, maybe somethin’ like this is all I need to kick my other bad habits,” he chuckled, greedily lapping the dessert off of your chest. 
Briefly coming up for air, you giggled at the sight of him. Logan’s nose and beard, slathered in white, were so fucking sexy. You ran a tongue along his cheek, licking a stripe of his face clean. 
“Why don’t we take this to the shower,” you whisper in his ear, kissing him softly. “It’s getting awfully sticky,” you giggle, and he throws you over his shoulder without a second thought. 
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itneverendshere · 3 days
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omg omg i’m completely inlove with bartender reader and rafe!! what if the reader saves up her money to get rafe something special as a just because gift, something to show that shes grateful for him or maybe handmade some gift for him
it hits different 'cause it's you - r.c
pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) word count: 2.5k
thank you so much for loving them and for you request 🫂
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Between the country club, side gigs, and saving every extra penny, you’d finally done it. You had something for Rafe.
You turned the little bracelet over in your hands, the silver chain glinting in the dim light of your bedroom. It felt kind of ridiculous at first—getting him a gift. Rafe could buy whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. But that wasn’t the point. This was your first birthday together, and you wanted to give him something that came from you.
Something that showed him you were grateful for everything he’d done. Because even though you’d heard all the stories about how terrible he could be—and you’d seen flashes of it sometimes—he’d always been different with you. Softer, quieter, like everything around him softened when it was just the two of you. You didn’t need the flashy gifts or the five-star dinners, though he insisted on both.
You needed him. The Rafe you knew when it was just the two of you sitting in his truck by the beach, laughing over nothing.
A handmade bracelet, not flashy but personal. You’d saved up for the silver chain, a simple one but still nice. But the charms? Those were the important part. Tiny reminders of things you’d shared: a little compass for those late-night drives home where you’d just get lost on purpose, a wave for the time he dragged you out surfing (even though you had no idea what you were doing), and a tiny heart because, well, obvious reasons. 
You didn’t care if he thought it was dumb.
You’d spent weeks working on it between shifts, sneaking away to the little craft store on the mainland to find the perfect pieces. It wasn’t expensive, but it had you in it—your time, your memories, your effort. And you hoped that was enough.
You’d been nervous all day, counting down the minutes until you could finally give it to him. Rafe had picked you up after work, his grin lighting up the parking lot, and now the two of you were sitting on the hood of his truck, the ocean breeze cool against your skin. His birthday dinner had been perfect, of course—he'd made sure of that.
He’d insisted on this little restaurant by the beach, his favorite, and the sunset view had been unreal, like something out of a movie. But you’d been quiet.
He nudged you with his shoulder. “What’s up? You’ve been acting weird all night.”
You fumbled with the zipper of your purse, pulling out the small, wrapped box. “I… I got you something.”
Rafe’s eyebrows shot up. “For me?”
“No, for the other guy I’m sitting on a truck with,” you teased, nerves bubbling up. “Yeah, for you.”
He smirked, shaking his head. “You didn’t have to get me anything, you know.”
“I know. But I wanted to.”
Rafe carefully unwrapped the box, pulling out the bracelet. He held it up, the charms catching the light. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, and your heart sank, wondering if he thought it was cheap or lame compared to everything he was used to.
But then he looked at you, his blue eyes soft and serious in a way that made your chest tighten. “You made this?”
“Yeah,” you said quietly, twisting your hands in your lap. “It’s nothing crazy. Just, uh, little things that remind me of us.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment, just turned the bracelet over in his fingers, tracing the charms. Then, without a word, he slipped it onto his wrist, the silver chain looking a little out of place next to his expensive watch. 
“You can wear as a keychain if you want— or, I dunno, maybe keep it somewhere. You don’t have to wear it,” you added quickly, the words tumbling out in a rush before you could stop them.
You felt stupid. Of course he wasn’t going to wear it, not with all his designer clothes and luxury watches.
But Rafe didn’t even flinch. He glanced down at his wrist, then back at you, “I want to wear it.”
You blinked. “You don’t have to just because I gave it to you.”
“Course I do.”
Your cheeks felt warm, and you fidgeted with the hem of your shirt, not sure what to say next.
Rafe just grinned, like he could read your mind or something.
“What?” he asked, nudging you again with his shoulder. “You think I wouldn’t like it?”
“I mean…You wear designer everything. This is… it’s kinda cheap compared to that.”
He gave a small laugh, shaking his head. “Cheap doesn’t mean it’s not special. You made it, and that’s what I care about.” He paused, then added softly, “It’s from you. That’s what matters.”
Your heart did this little flip in your chest, and you had to bite back the stupid smile spreading across your face. “You’re serious?”
“Of course I’m serious. This is us.” He held up his wrist, the bracelet catching the fading light from the sunset. “Every charm means something, right?”
“Yeah,” you breathed, suddenly feeling shy. “I just… I didn’t want you to feel like I couldn’t give you something better.”
He turned fully toward you, his hands gently cupping your face.
“Better? Baby, no. This is perfect. No one’s ever given me something like this before.” He kissed your forehead, and you felt yourself melt a little bit. “I don’t need ‘better’ or more expensive shit. I’ve got enough of that. I need this.”
You leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his body, the steady rise and fall of his chest under your cheek. It was hard to wrap your head around the fact that someone like Rafe—who could literally have anything—wanted something as simple as a handmade bracelet. But he did. And it made your heart ache in the best way.
“I’m glad you like it,” you whispered, resting your hand on his chest.
“I don’t just like it. I love it,” he said, his voice soft. Then, as if he could feel how much this moment meant to you, he added, “And I love you.”
That did it. 
Your stomach fluttered, and you couldn’t help but smile, that big, stupid, giddy smile you only got when you were with him. “I love you too,” you whispered, like you were saying it for the first time all over again.
Rafe kissed you, slow and sweet, and it felt like time had stopped for a moment—just you, him, and the sound of the ocean in the background.
When he pulled back, he glanced down at the bracelet on his wrist again and smiled. “I’m never takin’ this off, you know.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “Okay, let’s not get crazy.”
But he just smirked and kissed the top of your head. “No, I mean it. This? It’s a part of us now.”
“Not even when you shower?”
You could feel his shit-eating grin against your temple, “You thinkin’ about me showering?”
You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks burned as you tried to keep a straight face. "Shut up," you muttered.
“That’s not what you were sayin’—”
“Okayyyy,” You interrupted pushing his chest away, “We get it.”
You turned your face away, hiding your grin as he laughed, that deep, rumbling sound that always made your heart skip a beat. Being with Rafe was like that—playful and intense all at once, always keeping you on your toes but making you feel safe in a way you hadn’t expected.
“You’re ridiculous,” you said, shaking your head as you tried to sound exasperated, though the smile on your face gave you away.
He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his arm wrapping around you tighter. For a moment, the two of you just sat there in comfortable silence, the waves crashing softly in the background, the air cool but not cold. Everything felt easy in moments like this. Just you and him.
“I’m serious though,” Rafe said, his voice quieter now, more thoughtful. “No one’s ever done anythin’ like this for me before. You don’t even know how much it means.”
His fingers absentmindedly traced the bracelet again, like he still couldn’t believe it was his.
Your heart swelled a little, knowing that something as simple as a handmade gift could mean so much to someone like him. Rafe had everything—money, cars, houses. But maybe, in some weird way, he needed something that couldn’t be bought. Something that came from you.
“I’m glad,” you whispered, feeling your throat tighten with emotion. “I just… I wanted you to know that I see you, you know? Not just all the surface stuff.”
Rafe was quiet for a moment, his hand finding yours and giving it a squeeze. “You do. You really do.”
You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his in the dim light. And in that moment, it hit you how much he’d become a part of your life, how much he’d broken down those walls you didn’t even know you’d put up.
“I’m not taking it off,” he repeated, more serious this time, like he needed you to believe it.
You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Okay, Rafe. Whatever you say.”
The bracelet, the moment, this night—it was more than just a gift.
“You’re still givin’ me birthday sex, right?”
You groaned, but you couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out, “Seriously? I pour my heart out, and this is where you go?”
He grinned that mischievous, cocky grin of his—the one that made your stomach flip even when you pretended to be annoyed.
“What? I’m just saying, it is my birthday, after all.” His voice dropped, teasing, playful, the way it always got when he was trying to push your buttons.
You shoved his shoulder, pretending to be all serious, but he just caught your wrist, pulling you closer until your forehead rested against his.
“You’re impossible, you know that?”
“Yeah,” he murmured, his lips brushing yours, “But you love me anyway.”
You smiled, your heart doing that stupid flutter thing again. “Unfortunately.”
“Unfortunately?” he raised an eyebrow, looking all mock offended, but there was that softness in his eyes again—the one he only ever let you see.
You kissed him before he could say anything else, slow and sweet, letting the teasing fall away for just a second.
And when you pulled back, you whispered, “Of course I love you. Birthday sex or not.”
Rafe chuckled, his hands slipping down to your ass, “I’ll take that as a yes.”
You tried to glare, but the way his thumb was tracing circles on your lower back made it hard to keep up the act. “I don’t have to admit anything.” You leaned in close, your lips brushing his ear. “But maybe... if you’re lucky..”
Rafe’s breath hitched just a little, and it sent a thrill down your spine. You loved this—having him wrapped around your finger. He always lost it when you played the game right back.
"Now who's teasing’?" he murmured, his lips grazing your neck, leaving little kisses that made it hard to keep your thoughts straight.
"You started it," you whispered back, your fingers finding the edge of his collar, tugging him closer until there was barely any space left between you.
Your legs ended up draped over his, and you could feel his hands on your thighs, warm and familiar, as you settled deeper into his lap. His lips traced your jaw, slow and deliberate, like he was savoring every second of this, and your head tilted back instinctively, giving him more room.
God, he knew exactly how to make you melt without even trying.
Rafe’s hands slid down to your hips, his fingers digging into your skin. He always knew how to make you feel like you were the only thing that mattered. “You’re gonna drive me insane,” he muttered, his lips brushing yours but not quite kissing you yet. 
You leaned into him, your hands sliding up to rest on his chest as he finally kissed you. His hand came up to hold the side of your face, his thumb brushing your cheek in that gentle way that made you flutter. He tilted his head slightly, angling the kiss, like he was savoring every second he had you this close. You kissed him back just as slowly, letting yourself get lost in it. 
The kiss was deliberate, slow, like he wanted to memorize the way your lips moved against his, the taste of you, the quiet sighs you couldn’t hold back. His hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you just a little closer, deepening the kiss as his other hand traced gentle circles along your thigh.
“Y’know I’m crazy about you, right?” he murmured against your lips.
You nodded, your heart doing that annoying thing again. “Yeah. Happy birthday, baby.”
He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, his fingers still tracing lazy circles on your leg.
Then, in the same casual tone he used when asking about what to eat for dinner, he said, “You know, you should make the same bracelets for our kids when we have them.”
Your brain screeched to a stop.
Wait, what?
You blinked up at him, your heart skipping a beat for a completely different reason now. “I’m sorry, what?”
He grinned like he didn’t just casually drop the most insane statement ever. “I’m serious. Like, one day when we have kids—you should make them little bracelets like this. It'll be a thing.”
You stared at him, trying to wrap your head around what he just said. “Rafe, we’ve been together, what… less than a year? And you’re already talking about kids?”
He shrugged, completely unfazed by the shock on your face. “Yeah, why not? I can see it, y’know? You, me, little mini-us running around—driving us crazy. It’d be fun.”
You blinked again, your mind still catching up.
Kids? Your kids? Together? You tried to picture it for a second—little versions of Rafe, with his mischievous ways and messy hair, running around. 
“Wait, hold up—you want kids with me?”
 “Yeah.”
“Plural?”
He shrugged like it was no big deal. “Yeah. A few. Maybe more.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “A few? Oh my God, you’re insane.”
He smirked, looking way too pleased with himself.
“What, you can’t picture it? I bet they’d have your eyes. Or my attitude. Definitely my attitude.”
“Great, that’s exactly what the world needs.”
He chuckled, pulling you closer, “Not, like, tomorrow. But one day. You’d be a great mom, don’t act like you haven’t thought about it.”
You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. “Okay, maybe once. Can we just get through your birthday first?”
“Fine, fine. But just so you know, when the time comes, you’re making all of them little bracelets.”
You snorted, shaking your head. “I’ll consider it... if they don’t take after you too much.”
“Oh, they will. And you’re gonna love every second of it.”
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lina-linny · 3 days
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summary: yn is insecured about talking to much but her boyfriend hyunjin is there to comfort her
genre: hurt, comfort, fluff
words: 1k
It was a typical Friday evening. As always, Yn stumbled through the door of the small apartment she shared with her boyfriend Hyunjin just as he sat down in front of his canvas. Loaded down with bags, she tried to get rid of her shoes with moderate success.
"Yn-aaaaah how was work, love?"
"Good," she replied curtly, putting down one of her numerous shopping bags, which were filled to the brim. Hyunjin was taken aback. When yn came home on Fridays, she usually never stopped talking to him about her work. About how much fun she had with her new project at work, what she had for lunch or what her annoying colleague had done again. It wasn't like her to be that curt and dismissive, hyunjin realized with a frown. shrugging his shoulders, he began to draw. maybe she was just tired.
yn was completely caught up in her usual routine. everything was the same as always. But instead of looking forward to the weekend with her boyfriend and finding comfort in her upcoming weekly "painting-tea-talking ritual", she was plagued by countless self-doubts today. Was she not pretty enough? Was she really annoying hyunjin? Was she too loud?
Sighing, she walked through the kitchen and put the freshly bought groceries away in their designated places. When she had put the last can in one of the cupboards, she put on some tea water and opened the shelf with her thousands of cups. without thinking about it, she pulled out her comfort cup and filled it to the brim with hot water. looking at it, the cup wasn't particularly pretty. the design was peeling off nicely because of the frequent washing, and yet it was perfect in yn's eyes. it had been the first gift hyunjin had ever given her. when she met him, she was stuck in one of the darkest periods of her life. plagued by insecurities, stress and unhealthy relationships, hyunjin had smuggled himself into her life as a small glimmer of hope and when he wasn't there or she couldn't express her worries, she clung to the cup.
Ironically, the reason she needed to hold her cup today was her fear of losing hyunjin. Was she too exhausting? lost in thought, she picked out a tea bag and carefully let it disappear into the water in the cup. then, as usual, she sat down next to hyunjin, who by now had a rough sketch on his canvas and greeted her with a beaming smile.
the artist had been looking forward to her usual ritual all day. yn could only muster a half-hearted grin. as she slumped into her usual chair, hyunjin waited patiently to finally hear all about her day. he was dying to find out whether her colleague ayumi had so obviously made a move at her much too old and happily married boss again, or whether linh from the marketing department had spilled her coffee on her colleagues again and had brought these heavenly muffins as an apology for the chaos, which yn would quote "kill for". in both cases, this would be the third time in a month. but instead of the usual gossip, a depressed silence followed. hyunjin tried to ignore the silence by turning his attention back to the painting in front of him.
he began to paint a dark blue. he carefully let the brush glide over the canvas. as he always did. as he had done hundreds of times before and yet it was wrong. the line was wrong. it didn't show what his heart wanted to express. it was too big and too small, too wide and too thin. it lacked any warmth, just like hyunjin. the room was warmed by the rays of the setting sun and his sweater gave his body a pleasant temperature but it didn't reach his heart.
"yn-ah what's wrong? why don't you talk to me? you can't make me beg so brutally. give me all the tea!" hyunjin's mouth twisted into a pout and made yn smile slightly.
"I don't know, Jini... I talk too much anyway... I don't want to distract you from painting." to say hyunjin was confused would be an understatement. he furrowed his brow worriedly.
"jagia where did you get the idea that you talk too much? i love to hear you talk. especially when i'm painting! i want to know how your day was. every day! i want to hear everything you have to tell me my muse. i can't paint without you. the lines don't get right the painting can't really convey what i feel but when you're with me, when i hear your honey sweet voice it just becomes real love. i never want you to shut up understand?" hyunjin curled his shapely lips into a pout as if his girlfriend had personally attacked him with her previous statement.
"okay, okay jini!" yn laughed, but hyunjin didn't want to let the whole thing go so easily.
"jagi, what makes you think you talk too much?" hyunjin shifted so that his full attention was on his beloved. he looked at her anxiously as she nervously kneaded her hands and clutched her cup for support.
"well... i just thought... you know, hana, you know the one who regularly sleeps with the ceo... i was talking about our date where we went to see this beautiful van gogh exhibition and well... she said i always talk way too much and that i never let anyone get a word in edgewise. and... maybe she also said that... she's surprised that someone like you is still with me at all... and i mean she's not entirely wrong, is she? i always talk so much. when you paint i ramble non-stop. you don't get a word in edgewise and i'd understand if you were annoyed with me for that... or something"
"ohh love..." hyunjin sighed and wrapped his girlfriend in a warm hug, pulling her onto his lap, which she only commented on with a sad smile.
"have you forgotten that I always ramble the same way?" He lovingly nudged her nose, which made her giggle.
"i sometimes ramble on for hours about how great our new choreography is or how annoyed i am with one of the boys and as far as i can remember you always love to listen to me. so please don't stop. you shouldn't listen to hana this little..."
yn stopped her boyfriend from uttering a sinful insult to hana by placing her soft and tea-warmed lips on his. hyunjin sighed into the kiss and pulled her closer to him. Their lips moved as if they had never done anything else before. They danced a dance whose choreography only they knew. Hyunjin's hands were soon in her hair as he tried to take away her insecurities with his kiss alone.
panting, they broke away from each other but hyunjin didn't let her escape from his strong arms. slowly, he covered her now laughing face with kisses. smiling, hyunjin buried his face in the crook of her neck and inhaled her scent. "soo... are you going to tell me how your day was, my muse?" he asked, pressing a tender kiss to her sensitive neck, which made her giggle.
"okay... do you know how annoying hikaru was today? he's been running around all day and..." hyunjin returned to his canvas even though one of his hands was now occupied holding yn's, who by now was sitting in her own chair again, sipping her tea as she talked.
by now, the sun had disappeared and was replaced by the soft shimmer of the moon. the cool evening air wafted through the open windows of their shared apartment and yet hyunjin was much warmer than he had been just a few minutes before. her voice dripped like liquid honey straight to his heart and the soft giggle that had just left her lips made hyunjin beam. he carefully applied the brush and... the line was perfect.
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Wait... Autism and dyspraxia share symptoms? I've had diagnoses for both of them for at least a decade and I had no idea.
I thought dyspraxia only affected my co-ordination and autism had nothing to do with that...
All neurodiversity has overlaps with others somewhere. I'm synaesthetic, which seems like a fun wacky brain thing with no downsides, except it often goes hand in hand with sensory overload. My ADHD also gives sensory overload at times, so between the two, I have to wear earplugs when I go shopping so that I can stay long enough to actually buy what I need.
But also, when we talk about "The part of the brain that does X", we forget that X will not be the only task done in that region; and, of course, that X tends to be the 'output task' that we see and understand, rather than something more fundamental. This means, for example, that we go "Ah, dyslexia, the condition that means you mix up letters in writing"; forgetting that written alphabets are invented by humans, and we do not have a brain region that evolved to allow writing. What's happening in a dyslexic brain is more fundamental than that. Mixed up letters are a symptom, as it were, but so is impaired time management, and impaired executive function, and forgetting words and names in verbal speech, and sometimes maybe going semi-verbal or even non-verbal during times of high stress.
(Also, dyslexic symptoms present far less in languages with consistent orthography. This comes up a lot in Welsh-medium schools; dyslexic kids can read and write far better in Welsh than in English.)
Anyway, a very common characteristic of dyspraxia - generally described as just being about physical coordination - is that planning tasks becomes difficult. Another is time blindness, and time management challenges. Another is executive dysfunction. And there's a body of evidence about motor difficulties in autistic people, ranging from issues with hand-eye coordination to atypical gaits.
So: yes! There's crossover between the two, and you may or may not have characteristics to that effect.
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fanaticsnail · 1 day
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Hi Snail!! It's been a little while, I hope you and the family are doing well! I thought I'd pop in with so self-indulgent birthday thoughts I've had throughout the day.
1. Mihawk with a happy trail. (No other thoughts, but pretty man I'd desire to bite all over.)
2. Baking a birthday cake with Sanji! initially, he was going to have it be a surprise, but after catching him, we both worked on it together. (More platonic leaning vibes, he'd be such a nice friendo)
3. Shanks accidentally starting a citywide party in celebration of my birthday (he gets excited at the thought of a party), but ends up leading me off to just spend time alone on some isolated hilltop. It's a very peaceful evening shared between us.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY WRENNYX!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAA. Please have a mini fic on your special day for the broody swordsman 🖤. I'm sorry I didn't write more, my love!
Happy Trail
Masterlist Here
Word Count: mini fic
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Synopsis: Mihawk is not as well groomed as he usually keeps himself. You notice, and you can't help yourself.
Themes: Mihawk x f!reader, established relationship, suggestive content, Mihawk is unkept, husband x wife, domesticity.
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Mihawk, arching his brow as perplexion dawns on his face as you lower yourself to the ground beside his thighs. Leaning back on the chair, unlacing his knee from its position atop the other, he raises his wineglass to his lips. Eyes never leaving yours, he watches as you eagerly crawl between his knees and place your hands splayed atop both of his muscular and lanky legs.
"My dear," he utters when releasing the lip of the wine glass from his open mouth, tongue darting out to collect the spillover from his bottom lip, "Just what do you think you are doing?"
You hum gently, moving your thumbs on soothing circles to the apex of his lowered hemline. Adonis belt on full view, you gently caress your digits over the short patch of silky, dark locks and shudder in delight at the sensation.
"You're not as groomed as you usually keep yourself, my darling," you note, gently flicking over the follicles, "I am not complaining."
Mihawk shuddered away from your touch, the ministrations tickling at his abdomen causing a slight twitch to his lips and a smile reserved only for you in its wake.
"Oh, really?" he feigned indifference, his body reacting against his will as he leaned into your touch, "You are not complaining?"
Reaching forward, he placed the wine glass down on the table in front of him, all the while holding your eyes with his honey-hued orbs. Leaning down, he collected your chin within his right hand and rose you to stand. As you rose to your feet, he gently guided your right hip with his left hand and urged you forward to straddle his waist.
"You're telling me," he gently hooked your hair over your ear and caressed your jawline gently, "You, my beautiful wife," he pressed his lips to your cheek, "Enjoy having a partially scruffy husband?"
Mihawk smiled against your cheek, pressing a further three kisses slowly against your cheek towards your neck. His moustache and beard tickled your face, prompting you to curl in to his soft touch.
"Careful now," he whispered, his lips finally catching that place on your neck below your earlobe that had a soft gasp fled your lips, "I might think you prefer me a little untamed, beloved."
"Mihawk," you gasped, your chest rising with the bloom of need in your chest and stomach. He chuckled against your neck, gently clamping his teeth down on your pulse and soothing it with his tongue.
"Upstairs, dear," he chuckled against your skin, his wandering hands gently caressing your knuckles as you continued to toy with his treasure trove of dark curls, "Let me show you just how wild and unbridled your husband can truly be for you."
Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory
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