#i think this is my favorite thing that i have written to date

[nonrebloggingviewerswillbeshot]

An Observation

Disclaimer: This is written by a sex(also kissing) repulsed, Asexual.

I think I finally realized what made Veilguard my favorite out of the other 3 games.

In the other 3 the precedent was set. If you wanted a relationship, sex, and its various other intricacies was a requirement.

Heck even the chantry boy was ready to go to the bone zone in no time at all.

If I could mod out the sex and stuff from the other games I would do it in a heartbeat.

Veilguard however? They took care of that for us- or me anyway!

Not to say you don't get to the bone zone at the end of the game, but at least to get a 'relationship' you didn't have to jump through the hoop of physical intimacy to get there.

They made you work for it!

Earn it!

Build a bond with the person you were interested in.

I'm so tired and bored of romance portraying the importance of sex, when some of us value a deeper emotional connection far more than any form of intimacy. I get it, I'm on the more niche end of my little spectrum, but how I feel is still important and valid.

Seeing media, in any form, push how important and expected sex is in a relationship just hurts to see, for me. I've known enough people in my life who don't understand asexuality in any way shape or form and will try and guilt you into putting out because, well, if you aren't there's something wrong with you. And I'm wasting my time with you if its never going to happen.

I'm not for everyone, and I don't expect to be. But if you're with me, you already know what to expect. I'm up front about it and am not going to hide who and what I am.

I dare say that my opinion on this translates onto my romance choice in Veilguard. Lucanis. Who was so clearly on the spectrum of asexuality it could make you cry. The fact that we, or I, got someone that just wanted to be with you without all that extra stuff... maybe I did weep a little.

Because FINALLY!!!

I refuse to believe that MK said he was Demi to, as people like to put it "pull a JK.R" because I knew what he was pretty darn quickly. And even then she responded to someone asking if he was, because clearly other people could tell too! And OMFG the Wyvern thing???

The thing about us Ace people and dragons being cooler than sex(I came into the community later than most so that was always the inside joke I remembered)? Perfection! I don't know if that was the goal, but damn did I love it regardless! It was so good!

So, all in all, I'm sorry that most of you don't think Lucanis' romance was done very well, and it needed more of something. But... you can pry his MK post confirming, slow burn, acts of service, demisexual, just let me fall asleep in your arms at the end of the day, having romance, from my Cold Dead Hands!

I've seen the cut content. I've seen the other romances in game, and I don't want his to be anything like theirs. Or change, get patched with more content, etc.

Let me, or dare I say 'Us' have this! You had 3 other games to enjoy your sex drives. Let me have just this one! He's not for everyone, and dare I say it, he doesn't need to be.

Much like how Dorian was gay, Sera was a lesbian, Cullen wouldn't date a Qunari. Solas wouldn't be with you unless you were an Elf. Not all romances need to be for everyone. And that's okay!

End rant!

Disagree with me if you wish, idrc, just be civil about it.

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is:  @gayjinkies! gayjinkies has 7 fics posted on AO3 in the Stranger Things fandom and all of them are in the Steddie tag!

Our anonymous nominator recommends the following works by @Gayjinkies:

I’m a lover, boy

lover, you can’t be wrong

heartbeat (increasing heartbeat)

any solitary pleasure

Are You Sending Out Your Love Signs?

"Their writing is absolutely masterpiece. I LOVE their characterisation of Steddie!" -- Anonymous

Below the cut, @gayjinkies answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

I started reading Steddie during a really weird and stressful time in my life. I’d be reading literally the entire night through for months on end. Reading about these dumbass boys was one of the only ways to escape for a while. When my day-to-day chilled out a bit, I figured I may as well give writing a go, since I’d read, I swear to god, hundreds of fics by that point. I immediately fell in love with thinking up the most idiotic, goofy situations to plop Steve and Eddie into. I’m also a sucker for enemies-to-lovers dialogue and the possibilities are endless with these two. There’s so much potential chemistry and tension and canonically unexplored backstories which makes it so much fun to write!

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

I don’t think I have an all-time favourite! One of my favourites is friends-to-enemies-to-lovers because ohhh the layers…the betrayal…the yearning… I also love reading hidden identity fics, I eat them up so damn quick. And then the usual suspects: forced proximity, miscommunication, requited-unrequited, fake dating, only one bed. Honestly I could list so many that I love with my entire heart.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

I’m not sure if Crack counts as a trope?? If so, then that for sure. The more absurd the better, in my book. I love taking the most ridiculous situation I can think of and trying to write it believably enough that readers could think, “huh, yeah, I can see this happening. This makes sense for these two.” Apart from that, I love writing miscommunication. It’s so much FUN, and as I’m typing it I’ll be shaking my head, clicking my tongue, muttering, “if only you guys just talked…” and then not allowing them to properly talk for another 10k words.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

This is such an impossible question, there’s no way I could pick just one out of so many absolute bangers 🤚 blipblot’s A Lick and a Promise is phenomenal and I’ll shout it from the rooftops (I’ll shout about literally all of their fics from the rooftops, they’re just so spectacular) I’m reading Big Talk by occasional_loverboy which is SO FUCKING GOOD. let’s exchange the experience by jamiethegardener is an absolute favourite. Vulture by GriefAbyss is currently and very actively consuming my thoughts. throw me one by Adure is one of the first Steddie fics I fell in love with right at the start and it’s one of my all-time favourites.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

Ohhhhh so many. I would love to write a secret identity fic and a fake dating fic, and I’ve got ideas bouncing around my head for both of those. They’ll get written eventually!! I also haven’t really written slow burn yet because I love instant gratification with ensuing angst and drama, but I would love to try my hand at it!

What is your writing process like?

Controversial, maybe! I can’t write any scene without having written the scene before, everything is written sequentially. I don’t plan or draft at all, so scenes just develop as I’m writing, which makes it impossible to jump ahead in the plot and write because the story changes every time I sit down to write more. It also means that if I get stuck on one particular scene, the entire fic grinds to a screeching halt until I figure a single line of dialogue out 🫠 So it’s slow going a lot of the time! I also don’t really edit apart from checking my spelling and grammar, so not much is left on the cutting room floor! Also, I only write while blasting pink noise through my headphones. I sometimes have music playing in the same room but the pink noise stays on the entire time. 

Do you have any writing quirks?

I’m not sure!!! Probably using way too many em dashes, which I say hesitantly for fear of people reading my shit and noticing my overuse 😬 I also recycle specific phrases all the time, which are usually ones that I use in my day-to-day as well. They just seem to snake their way into each and every fic.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

I’ve discovered that I really do need to have finished writing before starting to post, otherwise there’s a chance it won’t be updated for months as my focus jumps to other projects.

Which fic are you most proud of?

I’m really proud of set my wings on fire. It was my quickest turnaround time from idea conception to finished product, and it’s also the only fic I’ve written that’s just one scene. I also experimented more with structure and writing style with that one. It’s the most love I’ve ever put into a fic and the most fun I’ve had writing so it’s very special to me.

How did you get the idea for any solitary pleasure?

Ahhh, my stink kink fic. Not to put my friend on blast, but they were chatting with me about a guy they’d hooked up with who had a cologne collection totalling over $10,000. When I asked my friend if the guy smelled good, they replied that they didn’t really know, they prefer natural musk and sweat over fancy colognes. I heard that, immediately thought, “sounds like a certain someone…” and knew I had to thrust a scent kink upon Eddie.

When writing heartbeat (increasing heartbeat), what was something you didn’t expect?

I didn’t expect how difficult it would be to orchestrate a phone sex scene! I think dirty talk is one of my weaker areas in writing, so not being able to fall back on action descriptions when it came to Steve and Eddie’s interactions was hard. I’m a big fan of non-verbal communication and not having that as an option was definitely challenging.

What inspired I’m a lover, boy?

I don’t think there was any particular inspiration! The plot for I’m a lover, boy literally popped into my head fully formed one day, and I spent a bit of time just kicking it around before writing it all down.

What was your favorite part to write from lover, you can’t be wrong?

I love writing Steve & Robin scenes, and lover, you can’t be wrong is riddled with them. I’d never written anything from Steve’s POV before and exploring their friendship has been so lovely. Their conversations flow and I love that for both them and me.

How do/did you feel writing Are You Sending Out Your Love Signs??

Are You Sending Out Your Love Signs was the first Steddie fic I wrote, after having not written creatively for years. It was written after a solid few months of sleep-deprivation and stress and I don’t really remember much about how I felt while writing it! I think for a while I was very sure I was never going to post it, so I didn’t care about whether it was actually quality writing or not, which was freeing!! It was a good stepping stone to getting back into writing because it was a zero-pressure experience.

What was the most difficult part of writing Are You Sending Out Your Love Signs??

Probably literally just starting it!! I hadn’t written creatively since high school, and I hadn’t really been good at it then, so I was 100% convinced I wouldn’t be able to do it. Most of my experience is in writing research studies, so it was hard to push past that and embrace flowery, fun fiction writing.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

In my most recent fic, call my bluff when I roll the dice, there’s a scene where Eddie accidentally humiliates Steve regarding the size of his dick, and I had SO much fun writing it. The entire fic was built around that scene that I’d had in my head for ages. I love writing emotionally-driven dialogue and also Very Silly dialogue, so that was such a fun one to write.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

I have a bunch of WIPs and even more ideas that haven’t been put on paper yet! I’ve got a long-form fic half written that I’m very excited about which I refuse to start posting until I’ve finished it, but it’s in the works! I’ve also got a third of a gloryhole fic written which I’m also keen to finish and post. Apart from them, I’ve got a bunch of crack ideas that I’m very sure will be posted in the near future!

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

I wanted to thank steddieunderdogfics for everything that you do 💖 big love to you guys!!!

Thank you to our author, @gayjinkies, and our nominator! See more of gayjinkies' works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[deoidesign]

For my birthday... read my webcomic! It's literally free! (Unless you want books. Those are not free)

It's beautiful, it's gentle, it's funny, they're canonically t4t and gay... And it's about time traveling vampires solving supernatural mysteries!

I've spent thousands of hours writing and drawing it, and it's really good! I'm not biased!

It's on hiatus right now and coming back in 2 months, so it's the perfect time to get caught up

[cookinguptales]

For fanfiction tropes, fake dating and soulmate AUs

I'd give those an A! I think I'd be very hypocritical if I said otherwise considering how often I've written them.

That said, I feel like I only like soulmate AUs if there's a reason for them to believe that something's gone wrong and they don't have have a soulmate. It's my favorite angst to write. I've done it a bunch of different ways... their soulmate has a name that doesn't fit the necessary naming scheme, their soulmate is an alien, their soulmate is undead... I just love the angst of a character believing that either their soulmate is dead or that they're so fucked up that they don't have one... only for them to find out surprise!! joke's on you, you're loved as hell!

And fake dating is just always fun. Like the possibilities for UST are just limitless. And the internal angst, too! It's super fun to write and to read.

[streetsandsodiumlights]

(tags from @no-1-rosalind-lang-apologist)

By the way "some aroace people still date and have sex" and "it's weird how internet spaces makes every single aroace character romance and sex favourable" can and should co-exist. Sincerely, an aroace person

[ncteez]

M.I.L.F. (Make It Last Forever) ― L.DH

Haechan, a favorite among classy wives to hire during the hot summer season for a nice, thorough pool cleaning, seems to have a favorite wife of his own.  You.  Or the one where Haechan was the pain-in-your-ass son of the family you used to babysit for, but now he’s making it his mission to be the pain-in-your-ass pretend husband that you never asked for, but very clearly need. 

minors dni 

PAIRING ― lee haechan  x afab milf!reader  

WORDCOUNT― 18.9k

CONTENT―  age gap: reader is 31  and haechan is 24, milf trope/single mother reader, college pool boy haechan (turned part time babysitter), reader has 1 kid and haechan really wants to give her another, reader has morals!! haechan just doesn’t see it as a moral issue, he is actually very sweet 

!WARNINGS! ―  age gap, haechan is somewhat of a manipulator, he’s gentle but won’t take no for an answer. dub-con in one instance. major breeding kink and kind of a mommy and daddy kink (domesticity), angst regarding reader and her ex husband, reader has huge tits 

NOTE ― this was written for jay from enhypen over on my other blog, but i am gifting it to you guys here as well! I WROTE THEM BOTH!!!! NOT PROOF READ.

nsfw tags under cut

nsfw tags― thick big dick haechan, small instant dubious consent, tit obsessed haechan, groping and grinding, mommy/daddy kink, breeding kink, unprotected sex, cum stuffing-ish,pussy eating, fingering, basically it’s haechan doing stuff to you,  this ain’t smut this is making love, also reader doesn’t shave her coochie and haechan fucking loves it.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Having a stray eye isn’t typically something you afford yourself when it comes to men. Things tend to change with time though, that much you know is true. 

It was proven to you for the first time when your ex husband decided to up and leave you three weeks before your due date for a woman–well, girl, fresh out of highschool. Years of trust and promises crushed with just a single sentence and a slam of the door. Time must’ve changed you for him to leave so heartlessly. Time must’ve changed him to become so cold. 

 It was proven again when you were able to heal despite never believing you could. Seconds of pain turned to minutes, to hours. Days. weeks. Months. Years of pain before being able to wake up and feel somewhat numb to it all. Like a flip switch in your head that told you that you can be happy now even if as a single mother. After all, the hard part was over. 

It took some four to five years, but it did happen. Time did change you, it healed you, it matured you. As your child grew, so did you. And for the better, you think. You count your blessings of living a life far more lavish than you ever could have anticipated given the circumstances that had been thrown at you. Even to the point of nesting, wanting another child, wanting a big and happy family. But alas, your ex husband had better things to do. 

At the end of the day, you’d never be able to call this home yours if you had stayed with your ex husband. He didn’t like this kind of “flashy” lifestyle, and to him, everything you wanted seemed too flashy for him. Perhaps he was right to some extent, as you recognize the brand name goods you now own, solely because you had promised yourself in the depths of your despair that you’ll get to a point in life where you can buy yourself everything you not only need, but want. So, here you are, owning an expensive home, in a nice neighborhood, with a nice car and a nice pool. 

Your daughter has everything she could want and need too, aside from a sibling, it’s certainly still more than what you had growing up and it’s all because of you. A fully decorated bedroom drenched in glitter, purples, creams, yellows, and pink, her favorite color. All sorts of play houses, costumes, dolls, a few lego sets, and even some plastic swords and knives for the days she wants to pretend to be her favorite movie characters. Clothes she can grow into, and a nice little fund building up for her as she grows up. Her first car, college, help for a downpayment on her own first house. 

Both of you have everything you could ever want or need and for that, you’re so proud. Especially knowing your husband would have never believed you could make it this far without him. Still, despite having everything you could ever ask for, there’s something in you that feels empty.

Time changes things. 

Time changes a lot of things, you note more than usual, as the man you’ve been ogling for the past three weeks makes himself far more known to you than you ever wished he would.

The interaction with him was always so quick before today and given the fact that he was a complete stranger, you never quite invited him into your home considering–you know, small child and all. You had hired him over text. Haechan, your neighbor said his name was. His handsome features didn’t offer you anything more than a clean pool and a wandering eye. 

Your neighbor apparently has a friend who has a cousin that has an even nicer pool than you do. Given, it’s only a nicer pool due to the fact that this young man, Haechan, tended to it weekly and made damn sure it could be drunk out of if a person had a craving for chlorine. 

You feel like an idiot now that it didn’t dawn on you quick enough. Sure, he looked a bit familiar to you but who doesn’t when you’re always out and about seeing so many different faces on a daily basis? His name, Haechan, didn’t ring any bells. Now though, the shame of staring at his sweaty pecs and biceps came crashing down the moment you realized who Haechan actually is. 

He didn’t do a damn thing to remind you either, if anything, all he did was walk around all sweaty in the afternoon heat with his tank top either sticking to him, or off entirely. It appears that you had just been too busy running errands with your child, considering his shifts were always when you were home. Too busy cooking, cleaning, reading, lounging. Too busy looking at…well, not his face. 

Too busy to give the man a glance more than that of a slice of pie behind a bakery window. 

Haechan. 

Since fucking when was that his name?

“Lee Donghyuck.” You whimper near mortified, three weeks too late as you hand him his pay with nervous hands. “Spray-cheese in my hair Donghyuck?” 

“Ah, was wondering when you’d pick up on that.” He smiles at you with that crooked grin, a knowing look that any man at a bar would give you if he had caught you checking him out. Then, he pockets the hefty amount of cash that you hand to him. “I go by Haechan more often these days.” He trails off, an amused smirk half-falling as he looks at your expression of realization. “You can call me whatever you want though.”

He’s well aware of how often you’ve checked him out since he started intentionally taking his clothes off. After all, it’s mid-july by this point and the sun baring down on him doesn’t quite call for a fucking turtle neck sweater. Or a T-shirt, or a tank top, for that matter. It calls for all skin baby, beautifully tanned and toned for you and any of your neighbors to look at if they so wanted to. 

Haechan doesn’t work out for nothing, after all. Summer after summer, he’s found himself to be quite fond of the rich women that hire him for their pool services. Always wanting an attractive young man to wander around half naked and satiate their lack of sex life with their husbands, or boytoys, or what have you. He knows all that extra pay isn’t because he does a good job either. He’s gotten winks, small comments, even a few offers of his body for more pay.

He’s turned them all down, of course. For a full-on affair, anyway. Haechan has gotten a few blow jobs and quickies as a tip before though, and a lot of that is why he keeps getting referred to more women. Richer women. Never single women. 

Until you. 

He quite enjoyed catching you looking at him. Especially given the fact that he knew exactly who you were when you introduced yourself to him via text. That little childhood crush on you came back within an instant upon actually seeing you again. Truly, he had forgotten all about you up until that fateful day three weeks ago. 

If he’s being honest, he’s been pining something fierce since he first stepped foot on your property. Excitement swelled inside of him just to see you again. To see if you’re still hot, to see how you’re doing, what you’re doing. How your life is going.

 He knew you didn’t recognize his nickname through text, and he definitely knew you didn’t recognize him to be eating him up with those eyes of yours either. So, he played along, enjoying it while he could before it would inevitably dawn on you. Still, he remembers you so well from back then. Crazy to know that he rarely thought of you for the past twelve years or so, and how all those little butterflies of his came back in a far more mature way. He was only twelve back then, but he’s a man now. 

Twenty four and perfectly sound as a man who knows what he likes. The fact that you happen to fall into that category is no fault of his own, honestly. It’s your fault if anyone’s at all. Haechan is a man that likes a specific type of woman too. Woman. Not a girl, not a young lady, not a free spirit, nor a prude. He is drawn to the idea of experience, to the idea of settling down. It’s not easy to find that at his age, in college, surrounded by party girls and casual drug use. 

And, well, imagine his smile upon seeing your lovely, lavish home with the large pool, no ring on your finger, a whole fucking child, and your motherly instincts when you buckle her into the car for an errand. Oh and the broken fence in the far back of your yard.

You’re a single mom. 

A hot single mom who lives lavishly. One who could probably use a man’s help around your house.

He half expected you to be able to recognize him when he appeared for work the first time. He even had a monologue in his head on what to say to you, and how to present himself. You didn’t seem to take notice though, introducing yourself to him as if you hadn’t spent all that time in his childhood home when you were a teenager. Like you never mothered him, or put him to sleep with the soft stories when you let him watch all those scary movies before bed. Even at twelve, he was a scaredy cat.

 Clearly you’re too busy experiencing life to notice the way he fawns over you too. Hating how you’re more reserved than the other lavish, fixed-up women. You seem to have standards, or maybe it’s just priorities ... that's so hot. Truly, it only makes him want you more because by now, the other women would already be rubbing all over him. The ones who shouldn’t be wanting him the way they do. So, yes, he’s always stealing glances at you with sparkling dark eyes, fantasizing in his head that this pool is his to clean now, because that’s what a good man would do for you, right? With him around servicing your pool and lawn, you’d never need to hire or spend money on another broke ass college student again.

Yes. That’s how quickly he fell into this infatuation solely because you looked at him like you want it without realizing who he was. Hell, without realizing how perfect you are in terms of what he wants.

God, how are you still single? 

Like, why do you have a child and a house so beautiful without a man wandering around doing all of this work for you? Not that you couldn’t do it on your own, it’s just, you clearly have the means to make a man do as you please. Why haven’t you?

You happen to fall almost perfectly into the categories of what he’s looking for. Save for the fact that now you recognize him as that kid you used to babysit rather than the man who tries to be sexy while cleaning your pool. Which is a fucking shame, if he’s being honest, to be written off as that same ten year old child rather than a fucking man who very clearly has needs and desires. 

The point is– Haechan wants you and he parades around your pool for you to look at him. So what if you used to babysit him? It’s not like you’re an old swamp-hag trying to lure him with candy. You’re just…a woman. And he’s just a man. 

“Well, thank you for cleaning again,” You trail off in an awkward tone, shifting your eyes to anywhere but him. He watches you though, smiling a smile you know all too well from his childhood antics. It must mean something different now, or maybe not. “I guess I’ll see you next week?” 

“Well, actually,” Haechan offers, “Would you be opposed to–” You cut him off instantly with an awkward wave of your hand.

You don’t know why you make assumptions, maybe from that damned smile on his face, but you do recall your ex husband reminding you time and time again that it’s one of the things he hated about you. 

Assumptions. Always thinking the worst, or perhaps the most filthy of situations and expressions. To be fair, you feel guilty about how you’ve been looking at him, you can’t help but panic trying to pretend like it never happened, and that he never saw it happen.

“I’m not interested, Donghyuck.” You respond hastily, pressing your thumb to your bottom lip to bite the skin on it, keeping your eyes away from him with the awkward words. After all, he knew who you were this whole time and paraded around like that? 

Even before recognizing him yourself, you know men well enough to know when they’re trying to flaunt. Is it so wrong to assume?

“Interested in what?” Haechan tilts his head knowingly, seeing the way you buckle under the guilt of staring at the very man you used to tuck into bed every night. He can see the way you try to push those sexual thoughts you had away in the quick rejection to a simple assumption. 

 “I was just going to ask if you want me to fix your fence.” 

Ah, you did get ahead of yourself through the guilt, and you’re far too aware of it as you draw your eyes back to him and note the expression on his face. Amused, maybe a bit of concern in his eyes, even? 

“Ah, um–” You start, trailing your eyes down your fence line never once noticing a break in it. Haechan is quick to point though, leaning to you with a whisper of “right there.” And well, you did not need to hear that tone in his voice the way you just did.

God, it’s so awkward.

“Well, how much would that cost me?” You question with an empty voice, staring at the broken fence. 

“Free.” He uses the same tone, leaning away from you now and smiling wide. “That is, if you provide lunch.” 

Well, despite the awkwardness, that break over there would cost you a pretty penny to fix, and your daughter needs the safety of playing in her own yard without random animals or worse, people, making their way in. Plus, you’re quite fond of saving money. How else would you be here if you weren’t good at it? And now, given that you’re most definitely not interested in Haechan, what's the harm in making a few sandwiches for someone you already know well enough? It’s not like you’ve never made him lunch before.

The awkwardness will pass and your guilt will subside. You both will laugh at it over a cold glass of iced lemonade, surely. It’s not like you realized who he was anyway, it’s not like you’re just gonna keep looking at him like that. You should just push forward and it’ll all be fine. 

“Hell, I’d even watch the kiddo so you can have a break every now and then.” He watches your reaction, wanting to ask so many questions about why you’re single, who the father is, where he is, why he isn’t here. “After all, I learned quite a bit from you.” 

For a second you consider that too.

And there’s three reasons as to why you should. The first being that you were literally just looking for a new child care facility due to learning of the staff coming to work while sick. Your poor daughter came home with a fever just last week, and you’ve had little luck in finding a place with the same educational benefits for her. 

The second being that, well, while you’re not hurting for cash or anything, it wouldn’t hurt to be able to put a little more back for her college fund. Or for fun little vacations. 

And lastly, despite your guilt of lusting over someone you shouldn’t have, you know Donghyuck and you know his family even better. No background check would be needed, your daughter could be in the comfort of her own home rather than a classroom setting that she’s sure to see for at least twenty years of her life in the future. 

So, yes. You consider it instantly, and Haechan sees it. 

You only know of the childhood version of him and, well, the slutty pool-side version of him apparently. If only you knew of that other side of him and how fond he is of watching his own younger cousins. How good he is with children, and how much he clings to the idea of being a father one day.

Haechan is great with kids, with or without them having a hot mom.

And well, he knows that he’s fond of looking at you at least. Besides, as long as you can work with his class schedules, he’d be willing to do just about anything to play pretend-husband, even if you’re unaware of it. 

“Is that so?” You finally ask, curious eyes looking at him with a furrowed brow. “Shouldn’t you be out living the life? College parties and such?” You add, wondering why such a great deal has managed to flop down on your lap. The idea of even cheaper childcare without the risk of unvaccinated children, and sick caretakers being far too good of a deal to pass up. 

“Well, yeah I guess.” He shrugs, leaning backwards to stretch and roll his shoulders. “Not really my scene though. I have classes Monday and Wednesday all day, Tuesday and Thursdays my classes are online. If you can work around that, I’d rather just be making money and chilling.” 

You think about it just for a second more when he continues. 

“I can be here on weekends too. Maybe you should be the one out relaxing and having some drinks.” 

“Well, I don’t quite need that, or for you to be here on weekends.” You think as you say it, knowing you have given up on going out to try and meet men two years ago. “I could pay you though, let’s say, thirty an hour?” 

Well, shit, that’s not too bad at all, especially considering he’s about to give up on cleaning the pools of a few women in his contacts for this. It’s a major pay cut, but still enough to get by comfortably if you’ll have him multiple times a week. That plus the pool cleaning money? And free lunch? 

“Oh, you don’t go out at all? I don’t see why not, could probably get a man in no time–” Haechan ignores the wage offer and pushes to note the singlehood he had been noticing for the past three weeks. “and the pay is fine.” 

“Ah, well, the dating pool isn’t so great in this neck of the woods.” You scratch the back of your neck when you say it. “That aside, I'll have her in day care on the days you can’t be here, but it really would be a big help. Thank you for the offer, Donghyuck. And for the fence too.” 

He watches you with a firm nod, shoving his hands into the pockets of his basketball shorts, still entirely shirtless in front of you. 

“And the pool.” You add quietly after a moment. 

“I think you’d be surprised about the dating pool.” He smiles as he pushes the subject back to what you had previously said, hoping you believe those words before continuing. “So, when do you want me to start?” 

“Is tomorrow too soon? You’re okay to set up here with your online classes?”

“Tomorrow is perfect.” He smiles.

“I’m sure she would be so happy knowing she won’t be going to daycare–” You clap, feeling a bit less awkward despite the boldness of the man in front of you. You’re sure he’s just teasing you for knowing you checked him out. “I know I am.” 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It’s a little too perfect, actually.

After that first day of watching your child and making a lazy attempt at “fixing your fence,” he’s settled in like it’s home. He wishes it was, with the lavish lifestyle in a house far too pretty compared to his own living space with piles upon piles of laundry he’s too lazy to pick up for himself. 

It’s different for you though. Different when he’s here.

Truly, he feels like he’s living the life after a couple of weeks with decent pay and a comfy space to do his homework. He watches your child, which is arguably the hardest part of the job but she’s well behaved for him. In fact, she seems to have taken a shine to him.

He’s starting to be very intentional with taking far too long to work on your fence too, and still maintaining your pool. He’s trying to drag this out for as long as he can. Even if just to see if you still look at him when you come home the same way you did before recognizing him. You never do though. When his shirt is off and he’s wiping his forehead in the sun, you don’t look at him anymore.

Hell, he’s even considered breaking things in your home just to give himself more jobs to do. More things that make him feel needed, like a husband. More things that you thank him for fixing, even if it breaks again two days later.

And ah, the food in your fridge is always free reign to him, that large television in the living room too. God, sometimes he dreads going home, and by sometimes, he means all the time. Who in their right mind would ever fucking want to live outside of this lifestyle? He really can’t believe you’re single, nor can he believe that he has the opportunity to be in your home, close to you. It shouldn’t take too long now to convince you, right? That you don’t necessarily have to be single? That you need him around to live even more comfortably?

In short, Haechan is in his head about how he’s practically just roleplaying as your stay-at-home husband before having to go back to his shitty little apartment and remind himself that he’s just a fucking college student with no interest in the people on campus. And like, even with the way you come home from work, all groggy and exhausted on the days he’s there, you always thank him before giving him his pay. What he likes best about those nights is when you’re too exhausted to even pay him and you promise to do it next time.

In his mind, that’s you promising to see him again. 

He could give less of a shit about the pay at this point, as long as he gets to be in this house, smelling your favorite candles and dish detergents, seeing you, being a semi-father to a child who deserves more love than the two of you combined can give…he’ll fucking do anything you want for free. 

It’s difficult sometimes, like he really can’t help it. Some days wandering around this house and imagining how the two of you could have landed on buying it together. How the rooms would be organized if he were here from the start. Claiming his spot on your couch like any dad would. Playing dolls with your daughter, laughing with her, letting her paint his nails and put his hair in little pigtails. He even cleans your pool as if it were his own, meaning, he genuinely cleans it. 

He has taken it upon himself to mow your lawn, confusing the yard workers that you apparently hired years ago. Did he accidentally fire them? Maybe, but any good husband would save you money, right? He checks your mail, waves to your neighbors and lets them make assumptions. 

And every single fucking night it’s harder and harder to go back home.

Especially after a full day of playing dad then seeing you come back so tired. Turning off that switch in his head isn’t easy. He wants to greet you like the husband you don’t have. He wants to ease your hard days in so many ways. Tell you he’s proud of you, that you still look so pretty after an exhausting shift of whatever the fuck you do. He wants to serve you dinner, run you a bath, fix your hair, lay you down– oh, he’s fantasizing again. Unfortunately, he has to settle with seeing the relief on your face when he lets you know in a soft voice that he’s cooked dinner and he will heat it up for you before leaving, kiddo is in her room sleeping, no dishes in the sink, and laundry is folded and put away. 

He loves the appreciation in your eyes, and sometimes even sees a glint of sadness. He can tell you wish you had this from a person who isn’t here for pay. Someone who loves you, and loves your child, and feels joy in making your life easier. 

Fuck, if only you knew. 

And  you’d be lying if you tried to say Haechan isn’t a godsend to you on the days he babysits. Many times you find yourself wishing he’d just move in and do everything that you can’t do. You’d pay him well, give him a guest room, whatever. But it’s just…not viable to support a full time employee like that, nor is it fair to your daughter. 

She needs a parent, not a paid college student who needs some extra cash. You have to be that parent, you have to make time for her and witness all of her joys in life. You have to protect her and never bring in faces of men who claim to want to be a father, only to run and break her heart more than your own. 

For now, you settle with this godsend of a little shit you used to babysit. Still you can barely believe that’s the same person, but again…time changes things. And thankfully, the awkwardness of what you did has died down drastically.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Today, you’re more thankful for Haechan than you have been previously. After a heavy workload has been lifted off your back with the approval of this project, you need a night out. For the first time in years, you’re giving yourself a night out, all because you have someone you can trust to be here for your daughter.

He was so understanding when you called,  happy to come over right then and there to put her to bed and mostly just house-sit for the night. Even without an end time for him, and even without asking for extra pay, he just…accepted with an understanding tone and that stupid breathy chuckle he gives to you when you ask for favors. “What? You need me there right now? I’m putting on my shoes.” He had said.

It’s the fact that now, as he sits on your couch looking at you in your chosen outfit– he seems a little off. Maybe it’s because you asked him where the best spots in town are because it’s been so long since you’ve gone out, or maybe he just feels awkward seeing so much skin on your body. 

To be fair, he didn’t realize you were going out out. He thought that maybe you were gonna go stay with a friend to celebrate and have a drink or two. 

In reality though, he’s just awestruck. Already you look great even after your busy days at work but…this is a different level. The way your tits look in that push-up bra and tiny ass top, when he’s used to seeing you head out in some sort of business casual outfit without an ounce of skin showing save for your ankles or wrists…jesus. He’s struggling more than usual to keep himself calm around you, hopping up on one leg when you walk away to try and adjust the chub in his pants, and releasing a small sigh before you’re looking at him again.

His skin feels like it’s on fire knowing you’re going out looking like that.

“You sure you're okay to sleep over? I figure it’ll be easier since I’m not sure when I’ll come home, or if I come home.” You smile with a wink, your stomach in knots over the two shots you’ve taken for the first time in years. “I can call my friends and tell them not to come if you’d rather focus on your studies.” 

Haechan shakes his head, waving his hands in defense for you as if he didn’t just see the way your tits bounce and squish against your shirt with each move you make. 

“No, no! Go on, have fun.” He says, encouraging you to go out despite hoping you come home with no luck of finding a man out there. 

Just, look at you. Fuck, he’s staring again. He hates knowing that he could be one of the guys at whatever bar or club you’re landing on tonight. He could be the person that makes sure you don’t come home, getting to plant his face right there. He could be whatever you want him to be if you’re looking like that. 

But no, he has to play husband again, which is normally something he’s all too excited to do. Tonight though, he feels like a fucking cuckold. After everything he does for you, after not mentioning how you’ve skipped a few of his payments, after slaving away for hours over your pool, your household chores, fixing and breaking that fucking dishwasher, cooking you dinner every single night he’s here just to make sure you have a meal when you get off of work…you imply you may not come home tonight?

And you’re dressed like that?

And you’re…

God, you just look so good right now. It pains him to know you didn’t dress like this for him, the only man who cares enough to make your life easy. He’s not mad at you, per se, but he’s pissed that you don’t see him as an option despite showing you time and time again that not only is he an option, but the right choice. 

This is what you look like when you want to impress a man? This is how you act? How you talk? Fuck, god, fuck– maybe he’s just too deep in his one-sided roleplay but it really, really fucking feels like he’s watching his woman go off and look for someone else to fuck.

“Thank you, Donghyuck,” You smile, walking over to him with a saunter in your step and a gentle smile across your lips. 

He’s never heard you speak his name so sensually, the way his cock twitches forces him to wince away from you. He’s never even seen you saunter before. Fucking hell, somehow it feels worse seeing you act like this after how many times he’s imagined it, all alone in his room. 

A slow walk from you, with the strap of your shirt slipping off your shoulder, fat tits threatening to spill out, lifting the hem of your skirt, or dress, or whatever you’re wearing in his fantasy at that point. Your voice, so soft, so sexy. And you’re practically bringing his fantasy to life right now, except he knows you’re going to fucking walk away from him like this. Into the fucking arms of some random dude at a club. 

Probably some loser he’s seen on campus too.

“It means a lot.” You add, popping a quick, platonic kiss to the top of his forehead. 

Ah, lip gloss. That little kiss on him is enough to ignite him to the point of no return. He almost wants to skip the part of asking you not to go and straight up just beg that you pick him, that you choose him. It’s not just your home, or the luxuries that come with it. It’s you that he wants. You’re the fucking luxury and you’re just gonna go to some sticky-floored club and pretend he’s not clearly checking you the fuck out right now? Like he’s not about three seconds from dropping to his knees just to see you from the angle you deserve?! 

“It’s no problem.” Haechan relents, dropping himself onto your couch instead and adjusting his body to sink deep into the cushions just to keep himself from arguing against everything he’s giving you permission to do right now. 

Hah. Permission.

“Be safe.” He adds in an even more monotone voice. “I’ll be here when you get back.” 

And god, he seethes in his thoughts after you close that door and hop into the car with your friends. You don’t look like a mother tonight, and he wonders if you’ll be upfront and forward with anyone you intend to hit on too. Probably not. He’s well aware of the men in this city, after all, he’s one of them.

It’s really not something he can control after seeing you like that either. Your child is already in bed and he’s just sitting here on your couch with a throbbing, fucking weeping cock thinking about you. What’s stopping him from taking care of it? You’re not here, after all. 

You’re not fucking here. But everything about you is. 

And that’s how he finds himself in your bedroom for the first time, barely making it a foot into the room before closing the door and dropping to the floor. The scent in your room is different. It’s feminine, gentle, like the energy is kissing him all over and sending goosebumps straight to the head of his cock. He couldn’t even pull it out, already holding his breath with his hand down his pants, vigorously trying to get what he wants so badly yet knowing that his hand will never compare to you. 

And it’s here where he feels like a husband. Spilling against his pants with a silent, choked back sob as he stares forward at your bed, and the way you didn’t make it this morning. It’s messy, and he wants to be in that mess of sheets with you more than anything. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Haechan hates that he’s now forced to get used to your late night ventures. Every weekend now. Every. Fucking. Weekend.  You ask if he’s willing to stay over so you can go unwind, and despite his better (or worse) judgment, he accepts. The only solace he finds in these ventures is knowing you consistently come back home right after usual closing times, and you’re mostly sober. Sometimes a bit whiny that you’re not lucking out, worrying that maybe you’re too old now, or maybe you’re just not as desirable. There have even been a few times where you’ve exposed your ex husband during your rants, giving Haechan little hints to follow as to why you’re single, and how he left you. 

Still, he knows in your tipsy state that you usually wouldn’t talk about these things with him, but he’s all too happy to get the details once you come home. Mostly because it calms his rising rage at how you’re doing this to not only him, but yourself. It’s mostly because you’re technically coming home to him though. 

And every single time, you go back to your bedroom to grab his payment even though it could wait until morning, considering he’s been sleeping in the guest room– all he can think about is how he’s been in your room. He’s gotten off countless times by now by the smell of your room alone, still barely able to even reach your bed to lay in it himself for a better experience. God, he’s probably memorized each little fray in your carpeted bedroom floor by now with how much he’s zoned out on it mid-jerk off session right there on his knees at your door. 

He’s truly pathetic for you. 

This time though…three in the morning has passed and normally you’d have been stumbling through the door an hour ago. Normally, he’d be fighting back the need to tell you that you’re beautiful, not too old, and entirely desirable. Normally, he would be fisting his cock again in your guest room before sleep, getting off on the idea that he can cum in a house that you live in, smothered by the sheets you meticulously picked out to match the walls of the room. Moaning for you, practically crying for you to let him do it all. 

Have you really done it this time? Gone off with some man? Are you getting railed right now in some hotel, or car, or someone’s shitty man-cave? God, his mind is racing, both aroused at the fact that you must be horny to be constantly wanting to go out like this, but equally as devastated because like…he’s right here.

Who the fuck cares if you babysat him? He’s a man. No longer that child who sprayed cheese in your hair or dumped salt into the bag of sugar. He’s a fucking man, cooking you dinner when you work, parenting your child, cleaning your house, maintaining your pool and fence….He does everything for you, why the fuck don’t you see it?!

Click.

Haechan’s ears perk up instantly at the sound. He sits up on the couch from his depressed slump of scrolling through his phone, quickly fixing his hair and clearing his throat. 

In you stumble, right into the little entryway table with a whisper-scream of “Shit, fuck–”

Haechan looks at your state before standing to his feet and rushing to you, helping you balance on your feet despite your footing not quite being grounded even with his help. You lean on him closely, letting out an alcohol scented sigh. 

His nostrils flare as he holds his breath, feeling your tit press against his arm, smelling the drinks, the sweat, and the dulled perfume on you. Then, a hint of something else. Musk. 

You’ve been with a man. 

He holds back a gesture at the way you lean on him. Nothing more he could want at this moment but to hold you tightly and tell you that he’s got you, despite the panic in his stomach at the way he sniffs out another man. Out of lust, love, desperation, frustration. This is the closest you’ve been to him for this long. You feel clammy and cold, a clear indication that you drank far, far too much. Your tank top is sticking to you, your eyes are a bit glassy–

“You’re late.” He says shortly.

“Late?!” You raise your voice before looking at him with drowsy eyes, furrowing your brow. “I don’t have a curfe-”

“Shh–” He shushes you, helping you get to the living room. “She’s sleeping and you’re going to have her make a fuss about waking up.”

You giggle to yourself as he drops you onto the couch, now aware that yes, you are not a single college student anymore. You’re a single woman. A fucking mother. 

You should’ve just gotten a hotel for the night and slept there to dream a little longer. 

“Right.” You laugh, slouching, spreading out wide against the couch and trying to fix your gaze on him. “Why’re you still awake?” 

Haechan fixes his eyes on you, swallowing around a lump in his throat. The way you’re slouching…seemingly forgetting that you’re wearing a skirt and basically flashing your panties at him. God, the things could do to you right now. The things he could get away with if he wanted to. He tries to shake those thoughts for now, and instead, inspects you from head to toe.

He’s never seen you look so relaxed. Chest raising and falling with each breath, hair a little messy, lipstick stains smeared on the outsides of your lip line. He chooses to ignore the faint swell against your neck indicating someone has been sucking on you. But, well, he can’t ignore it. Both his cock and heart aches at the very thought.

“You’ve been kissing?” Haechan tries to ask nonchalantly. 

“A lot more than that–” You smile, feeling a flush cross your cheeks before the disappointment hits you square in the gut. 

Haechan watches your face fall, and he mimics it by falling onto the couch and sitting by your head…you know, allowing you to lay your head on him if you want to. You’d probably not notice his arousal anyway, given your state. 

“Oh?” He asks gently, the disappointment now showing plainly on not just your face, but his own.

“Thought I was gonna go home with him, turns out he decided to be done after a blowjob in the parking lot.”

Oh, the way his blood boils. Not for the fact that you were used or rejected, but for the fact that you found someone that you were interested in and genuinely intended to leave your home life in his hands for however fucking long. Really? Just gonna leave him here all alone? Like he couldn’t do better for you?

“It’s for the better–” Haechan says as he shivers with irritation, struggling to keep his facade up. It’s definitely not what you wanted to hear, and definitely not what you’d have expected to hear from a college guy at all either.

“This happened last time too, except he didn’t even get me to the parking lot.” You huff, unaware of how much you’re sharing right now. 

He bites back the anger yet again, inhaling deeply before releasing a calming breath through his nose just to contain it. So…it has happened more than once? 

“Why don’t you let me take you out someday?” He says suddenly, well aware that you’ll probably never remember he said it in the first place. 

If anything, he’s testing the waters for his own sake. He’d hate himself forever if he didn’t at least take advantage of this moment a little bit. 

“Then who will watch my daughter?” You respond in slurred speech, not even comprehending who it is that’s asking you this question right now. Not even thinking about your history with him, or the family ties. 

He, on the other hand, is quite entertained by the way you don’t bring the history up like he expected. His cock twitches at it, bumping your head just a bit, not enough for you to notice apparently. Fuck, it would be so easy for him to pull it out right now, and just…tap your lips with it. 

Maybe you’d even open your mouth for him. 

“I’ll skip class on a Wednesday, we can go while she’s still in daycare.” He continues through an almost-moan, encouraging the conversation to stay positive.

“Donghyuck–” You slur before clearing your throat and sitting back up in a dizzy show of how drunk you are. “You know I can’t do that. It’s too weird.” 

In all fairness, you know he has like…a thing for you. After all, why else would a college dude be spending his weekends here babysitting your kid? It’s not like you haven’t noticed the way he checks you out before you go out for the night. Why would he do all of this if he didn’t have some sort of attraction to you? Sure, you’re taking advantage of it as best as you can despite how you didn’t recognize him at first. 

Despite how deep down, you very well know how attracted to him you are too. 

“Only because you make it weird.” Haechan rolls his eyes as he looks at you, spreading his legs out to adjust his comfort, noting the way you glance down to his lap and see it. “I’m a grown man–” He starts, spreading his legs wider, pressing his cock against his pants to the point you can practically see the outline.”you know this.” He continues, trying to be bold now by reaching forward and moving a strand of your hair from your cheek. 

“You’ve seen it.”

You freeze, suddenly feeling entirely too sober to be talking about this kind of thing with him. With Donghyuck. God, his mother would fucking kill you if she found out he’s in your house while you’re out trying to get fucked by whoever is willing to love you temporarily. 

Haechan sees you thinking though, and continues to take the advantage now that he’s feeling brave. Now that you’ve seen the twitch in his pants and haven’t moved off the couch, or told him to go home. 

“I saw you watching me when I was cleaning your pool, multiple times.” He whispers snidely. “You stopped when you realized who I am. Why?”

“Donghyu–…” You trail off. “You know this isn’t okay. What would people think of me? There are rules, and I will not go down this route with you.”

A rush of air hits your face and suddenly, warmth hits your cheek. You feel him so close, closer than ever before. It’s dizzying. Haechan is over you, hovering with one hand ghosting over your hip. 

“You want to though, don’t you?” He gets even closer now, darting his eyes down at your chest and unable to pull them away. “Knowing how good I am with your daughter? How well I clean up? How strong I can be–”

You swallow hard. For a moment, you almost lean into him. You almost melt right then and there, the need for intimacy so heavy inside of you after being left high and dry, knowing that you’d accept it from just about anyone at this point. But– this is Donghyuck. You can’t. 

You really, really, can’t. 

The look of disappointment in his eyes kind of hurts when you’re pushing him away. That playful smirk falling faster than you think your sanity did the day your ex husband left you. 

“This–” You pause, realizing all too well how he’s used your drunken state against you for this conversation. “This is your last paycheck.”

“I don’t think so.” The smirk is back now, except…it’s different. “You know I promised her a Barbie dream house next weekend.” He smiles fully now. “She’s a bit attached, you know, even called me dad by accident the other day.” 

You’re shocked. 

“She…what?”

“You know she’s attached to me already, don’t be selfish.” Haechan shrugs at you while rolling his eyes, leaning against the couch again and turning his head to look at you. You try to pretend that you don’t see his hand slightly groping himself. “Guess she misses having a father around. Can’t be too easy for her, especially with her mom going out every weekend trying to fuck guys who would run the second they learn about her.” He ticks his tongue now, as if he’s pitying you more than your daughter. 

“Donghyuck, that’s not–”

“That’s not, what?”

“That’s not what I’m doing…” You lower your voice to a near whisper, upset that you couldn’t even enjoy the drunken state you came home in, now feeling entirely too sober, and a little sick in the stomach. 

“Oh, so you haven’t gotten laid since I’ve been here–” He leans closer again now, trying to resume what he was going to do just moments ago. “They haven’t even touched you, have they?” His hands move to your thigh and presses down as if to hold you in place. “Why?”

“I try not to just sleep with anyone.” You lie, knowing you’d sleep with anyone just to feel wanted for once. And you’re trying to ignore his hands on you right now, trying desperately not to like it. It’s the first time a man has touched you in this house since your husband left you. As expected, you almost feel your knees buckle despite sitting comfortably. “I have to be careful, you know?”

“Mm, I know more than you think.” He leans into you, hovering yet again with his upper half over you as he whispers it. “Don’t need to be careful around me though.” He adds, this time trailing his voice right against your jaw, up to your ear. “You must be so frustrated.” He ghosts his lips there for a moment, waiting for you to push him away, or say something, anything, really. 

“Why would I be frustrated?” You lend the smallest of whispers, feeling the goosebumps against your skin rising at the mere thought of giving in just this once.

“Not having anyone to please you.” He adds now, landing a very slight kiss right under your lobe. “Always being used for someone else’s pleasure, maybe?”

You almost nod, feeling weak in your state and thoughts swimming with what if’s, morals, and anxieties. You’re frozen in place despite knowing a simple push would create the distance you need to breathe. 

“Your fingers will never be enough, will they?” He continues, essentially chaining you to this couch with his words alone. You can’t help the fight in your head, you need to feel wanted, and you want so badly to feel needed. “I bet you wish someone would love you for all that you are, not all that you have.” 

It’s silent as you feel his lips press down again, this time moving his body over you almost entirely. You can feel the couch dip a bit as he places all of his weight on a knee, moving his other leg to stand between yours.

“You must need someone to fill that hole in you by now, right? That pussy of yours?” He continues, his tone a bit more snide now as you give in to his hold with shaky breaths. 

And truthfully, Haechan has never let himself come on this strong towards someone before. Usually the wives are doing this to him. They’re trying to convince him, encourage him. He’s so fucking horny right now though, with that daze in your eye, your legs spread around his knee, blinking up at him like a cheating wife. As if you want to apologize, as if you need him to forgive you. Need him to make everything better.

“I heard you the other day, you know, talking to your mom–” He smiles, tilting his head to look into your eyes, seeing a small shine in them. “You want another, don’t you?” He continues, moving his lips now just over yours as he, now, presses you firmly against the couch. “You must hate knowing that I’m the only person who can do that for you.” 

“God, Haechan.” You immediately buckle, not realizing how suddenly he’s not Donghyuck at this moment. He’s someone else. He’s Haechan.

“Why don’t you go for girls on campus?! Don’t you have parties to be attending on the weekends instead of being here, trying to parent my chil–”

“Lower that voice of yours,” He whispers, eyes now hooded as he looks at you. “You know she’s asleep.”

God, he’s right. 

“Besides, why would I want them when I have you right here under me–” He tilts his head. “Looking so disappointed that you like it, too.” 

Right then, your moral code shines into the front of your mind at the consideration of giving in.

A weight on one shoulder chanting, “No! What would people say?! What would people think?!”, and then little to no weight on the other shoulder, echoing in a sweet song of “Finally! Someone who will love you! Finally! Someone! Finally!!! Finally!” 

You pause, not knowing at all what to do. Your body wants to push him away, even your mind and soul wants you to push him away. But you know deep down, you’d only push him away to see if he will try again. No man has ever tried for you like this, and you need more of it. 

To feel desired after so long of neglecting this side of yourself, it’s enough to make a person lose their footing in reality. To give in to just about anyone willing to look at you the way he is right now. It’s the fact that you go out to try and find it, and even with this alone, Haechan has satisfied you more than any stranger promising to make you cum.

“I…don’t know what to say–” You stutter. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I do.” Haechan smiles, glancing at your lips before meeting your eye again. “Why not hand over the reins and relax for a–” His hand dips under your skirt, cupping your sensitive cunt in one hand alone. “Ah, I knew it.” Then, his other hand finds purchase on your chest, lifting your heavy breast in his hand with a blatant, hard squeeze.

After a sharp inhale you look away from him in shame, afraid to admit it despite the truth of it leaking through your panties and onto his palm.

“Wet.” He smiles, no longer looking at you but flicking his eyes back and forth from between your legs, and to your chest. Still, he fumbles around the wet spot, wanting so badly to lift these fingers to his mouth and taste. He’s fantasized about it, about how you’d taste, how warm it would be, what your pussy would feel like against his fingers–

And just as he’s pushing your panties to the side, pads of his fingers touching right where you need them with his eyes hooded and watching you closely, something snaps.

You push his hand away, only to feel him push back, holding you down with more force, gripping your tit tighter, sliding his fingers in before massaging the slit with a blatant moan on his lips. Then, you try again, shoving him back only to hear him chuckle and continue his antics until– you jump to your feet. It felt too good, too grounding to have him touching you like this. You nearly stumble back over the coffee table, but you manage to stand tall and firm despite the fact that even though your mind feels sober, your body is fucking wasted.

“Donghyuck.” You argue immediately, using his name the same way you did when he was a child. “Stop.” 

He throws his hands up in defense, raising his brows in surprise. 

“I–” He pauses, staring at you. “I thought you were enjoying it, my mistake.” 

It’s the fact that you were. You were enjoying it too much, and there would have been no defending your actions if you had given in to the feeling. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, fucking stupid. That’s what you are. 

Your ex husband was right all along. Out of everything you’ve accomplished since your heart was shattered, ripped to shreds, stomped on, you’d think it would take a lot more to break you. 

“You ask for too much.” Your ex husband had said once. “You can’t even stand to be alone for one day.” He had said a year or so later. Small digs on who you are and what you need sprinkled into small arguments, only to come more and more from the lips that you kissed and promised to kiss until you die. Until all of his words were to make you feel inadequate. Until everything he said to you stuck with you, forcing your confidence to bury itself six feet under. 

Are you to blame? As it stands, maybe. Why else would you be allowing yourself to consider it? Consider Donghyuck, you mean. Never in your life would you have considered him of all people to be the one that you need. 

Never in your life would you have thought he’d be interested in a woman like you, in a situation like yours, with a child. Why did that night with him stick in your head more than every single mean thing your ex husband said to you? Why did his words seem more believable? 

Because you were drunk at the time? Wet, neglected, and drunk? 

Then why is it that you’re sitting here on your day off with your beautiful, bright-eyed daughter rummaging through your purse for whatever catches her eye….and you’re thinking about him? About what he's doing right now, how he’s feeling, if he’s eaten. 

Why is it that you’ve gone the entire week ignoring his texts, asking if you need him to come resume his job as babysitter? Why the fuck do you want to accept after how he took advantage of your state of mind? After he came onto you and tried to manipulate you? 

Despite all of his words ringing true in the back of your head. That was a dirty tactic he pulled on you. Yet, still…you want him back, and god fucking dammit you could cry knowing your daughter called him “dad.” You hadn’t believed him at first, but after this week alone it slipped from her mouth several times. 

“He’s not your dad, baby, that’s just Donghyuck.” You remember correcting her more than once, and all she responded to you with was a confused expression. 

“Why not?” Is what her little voice gave back to you after her child-like brain decided it was fed up with you correcting her very right assumption of the guy who promised her the Barbie Dream House. 

Why not?

Why not?

Well, if you could have an adult conversation with a five year old it would be much easier to answer that. Because he sprayed cheese in your hair. Because you were seventeen and his babysitter when he was twelve years old. Because you ogled him without recognizing him as your pool boy. Because of a lot of things.

“Uncle Donghyuck.” You finally corrected her again. 

She shook her head, and continued doing and saying as her little mind pleased. It made you miss having a father around for her though. You think she needs it more than you do. 

And that fucking Barbie Dream house is what brings Haechan back. 

Right at your doorstep today, with a gentle knock to the door and a timid smile on his face. He doesn’t even look at you when you open the door, instead he crouches down in front of you with the big, flashy box. He ignores you, tilting himself to look past you and straight at your daughter. 

You hold your breath when she runs to Haechan, arms spread open and laughter shrieking in your ears. Your heart aches so much at this moment. 

Given your work schedule, you’d never gotten to see them interact much. He always came over as she was eating her breakfast, and you always came home after she was put to bed. You guess it’s fair that they have a bond now. She doesn’t even run at you like she does for Haechan. In fact, the only time she ever does is when she had a bad day at daycare or had a tummy ache. 

She runs to you when she needs you, but she runs to Haechan like she wants to. Like she genuinely is attached to him, and his kind smile, and his eyes, and probably that warm embrace that you’ve never let yourself experience.

You watch them, not allowing yourself to melt at the moment because you did not invite him over, nor did you give consent to bring that fucking doll house here. But you can’t say no now, as she clings to his leg when he stands up and looks at you with an almost irritated glint in his eye. 

His eyes trail all over you briefly too, as if checking for any new spots or marks that a man could have put on you. You feel seen, dipping your head to not meet his eye and scratching your neck as if to hide a spot there. There isn’t a mark, it’s just…fear? nervousness? anxiety? 

And then he hauls the box in for her without saying a word to you. You watch him hard now that his back is turned. His voice sounds so loving when he speaks to your child as if she’s an equal. Plopping down on your living room floor with her and opening the large box. 

He Ooo’s and Aahhh’s with her as he pulls each piece out, connecting the walls, the doors, handing her little things to help him with. And both of them are so focused on the task at hand to create a safe space for all of her abused barbie dolls that… you feel invisible.

For the first time ever in front of them both, you feel like you are nothing but a ghost. That he is the single parent. As if you’re forgotten, less loved, not wanted, not even needed. 

There’s a bubbling in your gut when you tear up, reminding yourself that what Haechan did that night was probably just, well, he’s a man. Men aim to fuck at all times usually, and you guess you should have expected it at one point from him because, again, you’re aware that he’s attracted to you. Even more aware now. 

But the way you feel right now outshines that. He’s ignoring you to keep your child happy. She is ignoring you because it seems Haechan does a better job at it than you do. 

And, well, he’s not holding you down, whispering things in your ear, letting out frustrated little sighs at your drunken or drowsy words now. So, you say nothing. All you can do is go to the kitchen and prepare a snack, trying to force the tears to stay inside of you with quiet sniffles, hoping you can join their little picture perfect moment so that you can be helpful too. 

Your heart swells when they both look at you as you present a plate of snacks. You have to hold back tears again at the way their eyes shine, thanking you for the snacks. Haechan’s eyes stay on you a bit longer though, as if saying “See? See what you’re making her go without?” 

You do see it. 

But…it can’t be him. As much as you wish it could be, you just can’t. There has to be another man out there just like him, one that doesn’t have a history with you that would cause whispers and questions. There has to be. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

That moment you witnessed seems to have solidified Haechan’s place in your home. Whether it be for babysitting or simply so your child can see him when she’s asking for him (which is often.) It’s kind of an issue, actually, because now the choice isn’t yours anymore and it appears Haechan knows that.

You hate that you’re forced to see him for what he is now. How he proves himself over and over again to be the man you need. The issue is that you still don’t want it to be him. The bigger issue is that he’s breaking down your walls, doing little things for you, looking at you with those dark eyes– your resolve cracks and reminds you every time he’s here that maybe it could work. Maybe you’ll give him a chance. Maybe you won’t have to go out anymore looking to fill a void that no one else fits into. 

It’s the way that now, you can’t help but to compare him to your ex husband. The man who you loved for so long, who you genuinely thought you’d spend your life with happily and safely. Now, compared to Haechan, your ex seems like…nothing. Like a little crack in your resolve. He was older than you by just two years, took care of you for so long, impregnated you, and slowly but surely throughout all that time grew to resent you too.

You still don’t know why, but perhaps it’s just because you were growing into your own. You were becoming more independent, though he never had the capability to realize just how much you depended on him during the very time he left you. 

“I just don’t want to do this anymore.” Your ex had said to you on that fateful morning. 

Your belly was big as you tried to waddle up to him when he said that. You can’t help but think back now and wonder how pathetic you must have seemed when he yanked his arm from your grip, especially due to the difficulty of your pregnancy already. You were sick through most of it, only having a few good days here or there where that pregnancy glow would make your ex husband second-guess himself. 

The slam of the door after that was more exhausting than the months of pregnancy you’d gone through. It felt loud, so loud you could hear it vibrate throughout your whole body. You recall falling to the floor and carefully holding your stomach. It’s like all of the heartbreak pooled there. The loss of your husband three weeks before he got to meet the child he was supposed to love. Her little heart must have been breaking inside of you too. 

Double the pain.

And then you were mending yourself on your own. Going into labor early from stress,  your family helped take care of you more than her. You were needier. You were broken. 

And never, fucking ever, did you think you’d find yourself sitting comfortable in your lavish home realizing that your ex-husband didn’t deserve all of that pain from you. He left you for that girl, and not two months later did she leave him. 

Never did you think you’d find yourself thinking about Haechan as a replacement either. Well, not a replacement, but like, maybe just…he’s the idea of a perfect dad if you pay attention to how your child talks about him. How they act together. How she cries for him before bed when he’s not there, asking you why you don’t read to her the way Haechan does. Why don't you sing to her the way he does? Why don't you use the same voices for her dolls? Why you don’t cut her food like he does, why you don’t do this or that.

That’s what makes it click the most you think. The fact that Haechan has given her something you never can. The love of a father. It doesn’t even feel like he’s babysitting at this point, he’s parenting, teaching her lessons, bandaging small boo-boos, fixing her hair,…cooking dinner, cleaning…existing here like he belongs.

Haechan has done more for your daughter than your ex husband ever could have, more than you could have done for her too, you think. 

Even now, as you come home night after night and see him, you struggle to see him as anyone that isn’t who your daughter needs. Maybe who you need. 

His summer semester is coming to an end too, and it’s hard to see him as a college student now. He really does coursework and everything that needs to be done at your home all within a single work day? With no complaints at all? Lately, you’ve noticed that he’s been more focused on studying when he babysits too, but still your daughter listens to him better than she listens to you. 

Yet, still, it’s like you’re avoiding each other as you go through the motions, but you notice him more. You feel more discomfort because of it, mostly because you know your resolve about this is breaking. There’s a fear inside of you that revolves around him.

What if you missed your chance? 

What if it does end up being a mistake if he still wants you?

You don’t know what to do, but you know you want him. 

Some nights, Haechan does sleep over due to exhaustion and you don’t even ask him to leave because you know he’s not doing it to try anything. The avoidance is loud. Lately, you come home from work and there he is, sitting up with his laptop on his lap but sound asleep, softly snoring. Each time, you remind yourself of how he’s sacrificing his study time to babysit. You know your child can be distracting and needy when she wants something too, but he doesn’t complain even a little bit. The least you could have done was bring him a blanket, which you did. And you woke the next morning to find him curled up on the same couch, laptop toppled over onto the floor.

Small, gentle acts of kindness towards each other but never face to face. You’ve woken to fresh coffee countless times, made exactly the way you like it because you know he’s watched you make it yourself. You’ve come home to re-stocked items, like milk and eggs, laundry detergent, and even toothpaste. It’s nice, and a small indication that he doesn’t resent you. Even through face-to-face avoidance on your part.

Tonight seemed different though, compared to all of the other nights when you can’t go out. You walked through the door to the smell of dinner and your child still awake, sing-songing at you the moment you walked in. 

“Dad said I can stay up late!” 

You quirk a brow, her calling him that now becoming a regular occurrence to the point it goes through one ear and out the other for you. You recall discussing her bed time though, with absolutely no exceptions.

“Did he now?” You hug her before taking off your cardigan, walking with her to the kitchen where you find Haechan, placing down a small plate on the table with cartoon characters on it, right in front of two bigger plates with bigger portions of delicious looking food placed neatly on it.

Your heart swells, but your anxiety grows twice as big alongside it. This. 

This is what you’ve wanted for so long. This is what you never thought you could find. So, why is it that you still have push-back in your mind? Despite knowing that Haechan has proven himself time and time again, you want to argue?! 

Perhaps it’s because you like the way he tries. Maybe you’re not ready to lose that feeling of being chased in some way, of being begged to let him stay. Maybe it’s because you begged your husband, desperate for him to keep you, but he left anyway. It feels like Haechan gives you power over yourself, over your love-life, over everything, really. 

And if you were to actually accept his advances, even just a dinner on your table, what if he stops? What if he gets bored once he gets what he wants? After all, he’s still young, you can’t truly imagine he wants to do this forever. 

Not with you, and not with your daughter either. 

“What’s all this? Isn’t it a bit late for her to have dinner?” You question him instantly, anxiety bubbling up out of assumption alone. 

“We had a small snack a few hours ago.” Haechan reassures you. “I finished my exams and had a burst of energy to celebrate, besides, it’s a Friday–” He goes to pull out a chair for you. “You don’t need to be up early either. A late dinner every now and then never hurt anybody.”

The way this is the first time the two of you have had a face-to-face conversation since…that night. His voice calms you, and that’s scary. 

You huff, happy because you could easily melt into this chair and pretend you’re having a family dinner, like you always wanted, like you never rejected a touch from him that you desperately wanted. You could just play along and pretend Haechan is everything you need. Except, it wouldn’t even be pretending at this point. The whole idea of him has changed. But, again, that anxiety. You still have that little voice holding you back, no matter what you want, or what you need, you fear it’ll be ripped from you again if you were to let yourself be weak for another person.

“I’m really tired, Donghyuck.” You explain, walking past the kitchen and towards your bedroom. “Thanks for dinner but I’m not too hungry and I just want to lay down.”

And with that, he watches you leave. No real appreciation, no congratulations on him finishing his exams, not even a kiss to your child’s forehead. Is he still expected to be the one to put her to sleep? 

Why is he even here? Why did he do all of this? 

His patience is running dry.

So, he eats with your child as your plate goes cold and he leaves it there. If you can’t even handle a dinner at the table with the person who cooked it, you can deal with your own fucking plate. Throw away your own fucking food, wash your own fucking dish. And if you can’t tuck your child into bed, he’ll do it, but you can shove that fake ass exhaustion right up your ass for all he cares. 

He knows you’re not exhausted. He’s seen you when you are. You’re just being an asshole to him at this point, trying to appear like you’re perfectly happy with the life you live when your drunken rants prove otherwise. You treat him like everything he does has an ulterior motive. Which, yeah, maybe it does, but he was genuinely excited to have someone celebrate the end of this semester with him. Maybe assuming you’d indulge him went too far. For the first time, he wasn’t doing it to impress you.

By the time Haechan gets your daughter to bed, all tucked in with a little tune to fall asleep to, he closes her door and just stands there in the silence on the other side of it. 

You must really enjoy being a single mother, huh? This is why too. He always questioned it. You’re so attractive, so well-adjusted. You work hard, your daughter is a sunshine in this world, and you’ve not managed to find anyone to love you yet? He thought he was lucky to be the one getting to spend time with you. 

Turns out, you refuse to let anyone in despite Haechan knowing, fucking seeing straight through you. You want something from someone. You need it, yearn for it, even. But it’s almost laughable at the way you refuse it. 

Excuses, excuses, excuses. 

It’s the fucking audacity you have taking advantage of him. You’ve practically led him on. You lend him everything he wants in life. That’s it. You lend it. From flaunting yourself before you go to bars, to exposing all the marks you allow other men to leave on you. Letting him stay in this house, father your child, cook, clean, mend, fix, heal. 

From being a faux-father to being minimized to a college student that you used to babysit. He’s offered you relief in so many ways including sexual, and all you fucking do is avoid, deny, fucking reject him. You still go out to bars, later and later you’ll come home with new swells against your skin, but always looking so empty and disappointed. Sometimes he thinks you try to make him jealous. Sometimes, he thinks you want him to try again. 

Sometimes, he thinks you get off on the fact that he keeps trying.

And he has tried. Albeit more gently lately, but he has. Small, lingering touches when he hands you your coat to help you get out the door and to work quicker. Starting your car for you before you leave. Fuck, he even opens the goddamn door for you. Anything to make you feel appreciated, respected, and fucking wanted.

The silence is loud in his ears due to the sheer irritation as he drops his head, staring at his feet and knowing it’ll only take a few strides to reach your bedroom. A room he still craves to be in.

He’s raided those drawers by now, because of course he has. Soiling your panties, your sheets, anything that still smells like you when you’re gone for the day, all so he can act normal upon seeing you when you come home. He’s laid in your bed by now too, wondering what it would feel like to have your weight beside him. He fantasized about anything and everything he possibly could in there.

And he’s always warmer. Always cums the hardest with weak, muffled moans as he stuffs your pillows into his mouth to keep quiet. All before cleaning every trace of himself there, closing the door, and wishing he was allowed to exist in there with you. 

Right now will be the first time Haechan enters your room to your knowledge, and it sucks for him because he has essentially trained himself to get hard every time he opens this fucking door. Still, he composes himself, and it’s a bit of a shock if you’re being honest.  You thought he’d go home after this, you were kind of hoping he would after you made it so awkward. 

You felt guilty the second you saw his expression fall to your rejection of eating dinner like a big fucking happy family. You want it so bad, you want him so bad.

When you left the kitchen, you immediately went to your room and hopped in the shower, well aware that he wouldn’t follow you. You thought hard while the hot water made attempts to wash away your feelings. Would it have been so bad to just eat with him? With your daughter? With both of them? The way his eyes fell, it burned your heart a little bit.

Still, no answers came to you because you know part of you just wants to see what else he will do for you. Despite the history with him, and despite knowing his entire family would question and scoff at you for it…Is it really so wrong? To want to give him a chance just to see if he’ll leave you too? 

Just to see if it’ll hurt when he does it too?

Inviting him to your home almost every day of the week isn’t wrong, right? Forgetting to pay him all those times before, hoping to see him again and get that confidence boost, that wasn’t wrong. Letting your daughter attach herself to him when you swore he wasn’t permanent, no longer having the energy to correct her use of “dad” towards him… none of that is wrong.

 It’s all Haechan. He’s the one in the wrong for willingly following along, not you. Right? 

And as you’re sitting on your bed in your towel, zoning out and staring at your floor, Haechan swings your bedroom door open without a single knock, mindfully closes it, and immediately goes off on you.

Somehow, you really expected him to accept your rejection but your heart swells that he didn’t. You don’t think he ever will, and you’re exhausting yourself hoping he’ll prove you wrong.

He’s shown you enough by now. This is what breaks down that wall inside of you, isn’t it?

“What am I doing wrong?” He shoots his first question out in a desperate whisper shout, eyes searing into you before continuing without a single breath. “Because I do everything for her, and i do everything  for you, does that really make you so fucking uncomfortable?”

“D–” You try to respond, feeling your skin prickle at the sheer irritation in his expression.

He’s fighting for you.

“Isn’t that what you want?!”

“After everything I do–” He throws his hands up now, running his fingers through his hair as if you make him feel like he wants to rip it out. “After trying to make your life easy while making mine harder, for what? You to not eat the fucking food I made? For you to go to the bar all the time just to come back disappointed like I’m not right here waiting for you to come back?” 

“What ar-”

“Don’t ask me any stupid fucking questions, Just answer me.” He drops his hands, stepping up to you, placing both hands on either side of your hips, doing his best not to react to your near-naked body. “Why?”

You lean back, trying to create more distance to try and give him an answer that you don’t even know yourself, but he just keeps closing in. Not letting you escape this time. You’ve never seen him so riled up before, it’s…

Well…

“Because I came onto you? Because I tried to do what no one else will do for you?” His voice shakes when he says it, and you can feel the heat radiating from him. Is he…about to cry?

Only now, seeing him so close with an entirely sober brain do you realize an answer. Maybe not to his question of why, but to the same question you’ve been asking yourself. It’s because of that look in his eye. You’ve never been able to put a word to it, but now with him demanding you explain yourself so closely, you see it.

He’s desperate. 

Arguably as desperate as you’ve felt to fill the void. Except, he’s trying to do that for you and you won’t let him out of what? Fucking fear? Hell, at this point the history means close to nothing when it comes to all the new memories he’s made in this home, even without you. The history of babysitting him, the history of your ex husband leaving you. It doesn’t matter.

You think hard, so hard that you feel your eyes burn as you stare up at him. Glancing without intention to his jaw when he clenches it, to his neck when he swallows his words, to his lips, his eyes, the hair falling in his face…and you just–

You reach up, running a soothing hand through his hair to get it out of his face. Then you see those same desperate eyes somehow grow more desperate as he lowers them, leaning into the touch, as if you’ve been starving him the same way you’ve been starved for years. He falls silent too, cutting himself off mid-question just to feel you touch him for the first time.

“I don’t know.” You say, which seems like a better answer than having an excuse. What can you say otherwise? That it’s because it shouldn’t  be him? That you’re afraid he’ll realize he’s not ready to settle? To be a dad? He’ll ask why, and it’ll be the same answer you gave on that drunken night. An answer that you no longer care about. 

You babysat him when he was a child, but you were still a child too. 

You were still a child, and time changes things.

Your ex husband left you, and you’re afraid he will too, especially because he’s so much younger? Who cares?

Your answer seems to fly right past his head though, because he’s still leaning to feel your fingers in his hair, and he’s looking at you as if nothing you say will matter unless you make it hold some weight to him. 

“Donghyuck–” You pause, scratching right at his nape, uncaring of how you can feel your towel loosening on your body. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

Somehow, his name on your lips is what he needed to hear. The tone of it, the rasp in your voice, your fingers in his hair. Actions speak louder than anything the two of you could say right now, and he can’t help it. Nothing can stop him, not even you at this point. 

He hasn’t done anything wrong you say? It’s because he fucking knows what you need.

You inhale deeply, holding your breath when you feel your back hit your mattress, his warm hands instantly taking advantage of your freshly-showered state and tugging at the towel just slightly to let it fall open. You hear a slight breath from him at that moment, an inhale. There, he climbs onto the bed, nudging himself between your legs and trapping you there under him, both hands holding your arms down.

Like he’s afraid you’ll reject him again.

“You’re going to let me take care of you now.” He demands, though to him it sounds more like a plea solely due to the fact that he’s so fucking turned on it’s unreal. That feeling of when your fingers were in his hair? Seeing your naked body? Unshaved pussy? Being in this fucking room with you? It throws him into overdrive, especially with the way you just lay there blinking up at him in surprise. The anger melting away only amplifies it more. 

How could you do this to him? Genuinely, how could you have let him fucking suffer for you like this? 

Still, you blink up as if you’re a deer caught in headlights and it makes his heart thump against his ribcage. Your eyes are so bright, that glint of sadness he had seen so many times isn’t there right now. And there’s so much adrenaline inside of him, like he needs to move fast before you change your mind again. You’ve not let him do this for some fucking reason or another and now you’re just laying here for him.

 There, with your entire body on display, and you appear to be docile. Fucking obedient? Like he always knew you would be if you’d just drop the fucking act?! You were meant for him and him alone, and he’s going to show you why.

In all honesty, you’re tired of denying yourself by now. From the moment you saw him that day cleaning your pool for the first time, you’ve wanted him on some level. It wasn’t an emotional attachment, but a hope, a fantasy for you. And when you recognized him, you were more impressed with him than embarrassed. You tried not to let your eyes wander out of guilt, out of feeling like a pervert. 

And then, that day when he came onto you, he was just a man to you. Your faux guilt kept you from letting him, and your hope to be chased kept you from it too. As if you’ve never pleasured yourself to the thought of him, shamefully in this very bed. As if you’ve never called out his name with a silent breath. If you keep going at this point, you’ll lose him before ever knowing what he could really be for you. 

This is his last ditch effort to beat you at your own game, and you’re ready to lose.

  So, now, you let yourself get lost in him. In his eyes and the way he pleads and makes his demands. He probably doesn’t recognize his strength against you right now, or how much it’s turning you on. With the way he has both hands on your wrists, probably bruising them, and there’s nothing you could do even if you wanted to. His weight holding you down feels better than you imagined. 

After so long, with so many failed hookups where you’ve told them of your daughter and all they’ve done in return is get their orgasm then leave…Haechan. He wants to take care of you? 

He wants to…give you what you need?

Fuck, you know he can. That’s the fucked up part. He’s proved it so many times to you in so many ways. You’ve watched him, the way he moves and acts around you. He’s exactly what you need.You pushed him to this point, where his sanity is on the brink of crashing. Taking it away from him again feels wrong, because it’s exactly what you want.

And when he presses his leg between yours, he knows.

“Again?” He comments, now releasing your wrist from one hand and running it down, able to slip his fingers right into the slick of your bare pussy. “You’re wet.” 

You still just blink up at him with an intake of breath at the pleasure, thoughts running left and right on what to do, finally realizing you don’t want to do a damn thing. He’d do it all if you let him. Clean your house, be a father, fix all of the breaks, make you wet.

And you just feel him, the way his fingers play around with what he does to you. You can practically feel his confidence rise at the way you spread your legs a bit more, as if to give him more access. When you look at him, his expression remains harsh, but slowly he moves himself down, lips brushing over one of your nipples while keeping eye contact.

Still that irritated look, like he’s mad you haven’t let him do this before now.

“How many times are you going to pretend like I’m not the one who gets you wet?” He asks before rubbing circles around your clit, tongue flicking in the same way around your nipple. “Like I don’t have a right to take care of you?”

Your breath is still caught in your throat, trying to be careful about what you say right now despite knowing you can’t speak. You focus on what he’s doing instead, losing yourself to something you’ve not felt in far, far too long. 

He’s right. He’s gotten you wet more than once by now. More than he knows. 

And goddamn, he knew your tits could bounce, but the way they move without the support of a bra, the plush, soft feeling of your nipple growing erect in his mouth, all for him to bite and pull at. He does it too, listening to the little seething sound of pain from you when he pulls all the way back with your nipple between his teeth. Only to let it fall from his mouth and break eye contact with you to see the jiggle as it falls.

His cock twitches, at everything that you are right now, feeling more pleasure through seeing you like this alone compared to fucking his own fist on your bedroom floor. He notes how your legs squeeze him more at the nipple stimulation than his fingers too, memorizing the way your labia falls open between them. He smirks, flicking his tongue more, quicker. 

There. There it is.

A low rumble in your chest falls from your lips. Soft, a moan. A very small, delicate sound.

“You like this?” Haechan asks, looking up at you, letting his tongue fall from his mouth again and flicking the erect nub. “When I play with your tits?”

You nod, throwing an arm over your face in embarrassment that this is actually happening. You’re letting him. Already you feel yourself heat up more, even when he takes his fingers away from your clit and instead, uses them to flick your other nipple. 

And he does this for a few minutes. Paying special attention to your tits, going back and forth with his fingers and tongue to each bud, trying so hard to not stop just to shove his cock between them and use them the way he’s always wanted. He focuses on drawing out more and more little sounds from you instead, slurping his own saliva from your painfully erect nipples, pulling back, blowing cold air, then warming it up again with his lips. All while simultaneously groping, flicking, and pinching with his other hand. 

“Jesus, Haechan–” You moan quietly, chest rising and falling as he squeezes and licks against you. 

That’s right, say his name. Let him fucking know he’s doing what you like. Haechan thinks, feeling his cock weep in his pants as he does it. Wondering just how sensitive you are to be reacting like this to simple nipple stimulation. God, he’s wanted to suck on these for so long, and now you’re letting him. They’re so big, so plush. He wants to fucking cover them with his mouth, he wants to bury his face in them, kiss them all over them. 

And if they were to get bigger? He moans at the thought, remembering that conversation you had with your mom. You want another. He bets they’d swell up–Oh, fuck yeah. They’d probably hurt to rub against your shirt. God, fuck, he can’t control his thoughts right now.

 Finally. 

Fucking finally, he has you and he’s not going to let you run away again.

He doesn’t fucking care if it’s forward. He wants what he wants, you want what you want. That want just so happens to line up. Besides, he’s already proved himself to you, he knows it. If you’re letting him do this, maybe you’d let him stay like this. 

“Did they get bigger?” He moans briefly as he swaps to your other nipple again. “So full, so heavy, were they leaking all over you?”

You listen to him, trying not to feel the pit in your stomach bubble with even more arousal at his blatant and dirty words, feeling your clit throb at the stimulation your tits are getting right now. 

“Makes my dick fucking throb just thinking about it. Fuck–” 

“Let me give you another,” He mumbles now, almost mindlessly before looking up at you with an intense gaze as he bites down, indicating that he’s not mindless about it at all. 

“Swell you up, make you glow–”

Oh. 

Why is that– why are you dripping?

He hears that moan you let out. Different from the others, almost desperate.

“Mm, yeah.” He encourages it, now allowing his hand to travel back down to witness how much wetter you’ve gotten at those words. So messy, so perfect. “Knew you’d want it raw.”

You can’t help the nod, as it comes before you even process his words solely because you feel his fingers slip inside of you. You haven’t been this wet in so, so long. You want to feel it. To be full again, of anything. Of him.

“Ye-” You start, interrupting yourself with a bite of your lip and your eyes rolling back. 

“That’s right mama,” He coos, tilting his fingers up and amplifying the pressure inside of you. “Gonna let me take good care of this pussy, yeah?” He adds, lifting from your tits and ghosting his lips over yours. 

He watches you closely, that daze in your eye. God, you look so horny right now. There’s nothing more he wants than to see this time and time again. To let you wake up every morning with his warm cum inside of you, to see your belly swell with his child, to see your tits grow until they hurt. 

He’d take care of you. He’d take good fucking care of you. 

“Say something.” Haechan whispers against your lips, darting his tongue out against your lips, angling his fingers up and making you moan. “Say you want me to give it to you raw.”

You open your mouth, feeling his tongue lick and swallow up that moan you just gave him before you try to compose yourself. You can’t help it, you’re so, so sensitive right now and you can’t help but find it incredibly sexy to be here, laid bare, while he’s still fully clothed.

Like he really is doing this for you. He’s not trying to get his own orgasm and leave. You’re weak and those words of “let me give you another” shines in your head. Weak, you’re weak. You should be thinking about condoms, you should be thinking about the consequences of this. 

But you’re not. 

You do like it raw.

“Haechan–” You stutter as you try to grasp the reality of his words, feeling his fingers repeatedly hit right where you need it. “I’m…not protected.”

He moans. Loudly, before huffing out an irritated groan.

“You must really want it then.” He narrows his eyes at you. “Going out all the time trying to get fucked–” 

He plunges his fingers in again, deep, and holds them there as he pulls back to look at you. To really look at you, then he glares.

“You’d really let just some fucking dude give you a baby?” 

You repeatedly shake your head. 

“No!” You retort, thrusting your hips up. “I just–”

“Mhm,” He pulls his fingers out now, sliding himself down so fast that you can barely comprehend him sucking your clit into his mouth before pulling back in a moan at the taste of you. “If mama wants another, daddy will give her one.” He says now, as if to pacify you.

As if to give you everything. 

And you’d argue, really, you would.  You want another child so bad, but this is– it’s too soon. You haven’t even established a relationship with him yet. Boundaries haven’t been discussed. His college plan– but fuck it’s not entirely your fault that you’re like, super turned on by the idea of it. To the thought of being so filled with cum that there’s no possible way you couldn’t end up pregnant. An indication that, no matter what, no man at a club could fulfill the arousal for you even if they cared to do it. 

You’d never have let them actually fuck you raw. 

Haechan though…how can you keep telling him no?

How could you reject him again when you want it so badly? 

Fuck now, think later.

“Yeah–” You say against your better judgement, hands reaching down to his hair so you can grind up against his mouth, lost to the arousal as you mimic what he referred to himself as. “Daddy?”

You feel his mouth fall slack at that, as if you’re accepting him in full now. You feel your clit hit nothing in his open mouth, but it throbs harder. 

 He knew you were slightly into him for letting him do this at all, but now, you’re truly accepting it. Like you know he’ll fucking do it, like you want him to fucking do it.

“That’s right,” He moans against your clit as he licks at it, barely able to comprehend your voice calling him that but clinging to it all the same.  “Gonna let daddy do it all for you.”  

Yeah. You are. You’re gonna let him do it. All of it. 

And then, the room is enveloped in quiet moans, more from Haechan than from you due to your breath being stuck in your throat. His tongue, licking every part of your sensitive cunt, his hands reaching back up to your tits, fondling, pinching, painfully tugging at them as he moans louder, louder, louder for you to want him.

He presses his hips up and against your mattress as he tastes you, so deeply it hurts his cock to neglect it like this. Each rub feels raw, twitching and pulsing to be let out, to be inside of you, on you, against you. Filling you up with his cum, plugging it in as a promise that you can’t leave him even if you wanted to. 

He’s going to fucking do exactly what he said he would. 

And only when you feel his tongue lap against your hole do you finally release your breath, “Daddy” coming out in a choked back sob. It breaks him, his body going into overdrive as he pulls back and just– stares at you with wild eyes. 

You stare back up at him, knowing that calling him that means something more than a cringe little roleplay kink. It means something deeper to him. He wants to be a dad, a real one.

“Oh yeah?” He finally says, hands going straight to his button and zipper. 

You can’t help it, biting your lower lip as you blink up, watching his shoulders move, the veins on his arms protruding as he rushes to pull it out and– oh. You moan at it, the way his heavy, slicked up, cock falls out, dark, needy. 

“Daddy–” You urge him on, knowing that it’s driving him absolutely insane. 

“Mhm?” He shuffles himself off the bed, letting his pants drop as he lifts his shirt off of him and fucking glares at your tits. “You want daddy’s cock?”  He adds now, shooting his eyes up to you as both of his hands land on your legs.

Your mind goes blank when you feel him slide his hands around to the back of your thighs, pushing your legs forward, curling you in on yourself, forcing your pussy to be out and on display for him. 

And you watch him, the way he stares down at it. It’s embarrassing to be so seen right now, not having expected to get fucked open by anyone tonight, let alone him. You probably should have shaved or something, or like, not gotten out of the habit in the first place. But he moans at it, mouth falling open at the fact that you are entirely a fucking woman. 

A fucking mother.

The prettiest pussy he’s ever fucking seen let alone tasted.

And he moans, breaking the silence, forgetting only for a moment how long he’s been wanting this. It boosts your confidence more than you’ve ever felt. His reaction to this is more than your ex husband’s reaction to you when you were pristine and borderline pornstar quality. 

Haechan doesn’t see you as used and neglected, he just sees you. And this. This is the pussy he wants. This is what he wants to put his baby in. 

When he flicks his eyes back to you, with that same open mouthed expression, it knocks the breath out of you. There’s so much love in his eyes, or maybe lust, you don’t care. You think you’re matching that expression for him too, because it’s like he can’t hold back anymore. He can’t just sit and look at you anymore. 

He just can’t.

And you feel it, his thick head pushing past the tightened, pulsing hole and not stopping. He pushes in slowly, painfully slow, to the point you’re both looking at each other with a slack jaw. Finally. The pain of it, the pleasure, the fucking need you’ve been trying to fulfill. 

That look on your face drives him wild too, he knows he has you by now. You like it, you love the way he slides in and makes damn sure you feel it. Every second of the slide pries you open, and he wants to remember this moment forever. He wants you to fucking remember too. 

Wants you to know that no one will ever fit inside of you so perfectly, so deeply.

When he finally bottoms out, he leans forward to keep himself buried deep as he ghosts his lips over yours. He feels the way you try to kiss him, but he pulls back with a confident smirk. 

“When was the last time you’ve felt a cock so deep in you?” He whispers hotly, knowing you need not answer. Knowing you won’t answer, not with the way you’re instantly lifting your head and kissing him. 

Your pussy pulses around him when you lick into his mouth, the first real kiss sending his heart soaring. He twitches inside of you with each squeeze, and kisses you harder, deeper. And somehow, it brings tears to your eyes. 

The way he kisses, the way he makes you feel him. Fuck, the way he makes you feel whole, so wanted, like you’re amazing to him. In more ways than just a body to fuck, but he’s stuck around despite all of your avoidance and rejections. You hope you’re making it worth it. 

Fuck, you need to feel worth it to him.

“You’d better not fucking pull out.” You groan through a breath, his lips still kissing you through your words as he finally pulls his hips back, fucking in once. 

Hard.

Honestly, could you have said anything else at this moment? He’s trying to make this last, he needs it to last. If you keep fucking talking, saying everything he’s ever wanted to hear– 

“Fuck,”  He moans, his hands moving up to your cheeks as he licks into your mouth. “You can’t–”  He continues, fucking in again, moving your body up with each thrust do to the sheer force of him trying to plunge in as deep as he can. “You can’t fucking say that to me right now.”

You’re seeing stars though, unable to say anything else as your eyes roll back at the way the head of his cock practically kisses your cervix with each push into you. He’s so rough, so desperate for it. 

You don’t think he expected you to respond either, with the way he keeps his lips on yours, his body pressed so closely that having your legs to your chest means nothing to him now. Mating press be damned, he’s lost his mind to the feeling, not the aesthetic of being a fucking dad. 

Your legs wrap around him instead, and he’s all too happy to feel it. Your legs hug him the same way your arms do, the same way your pussy does, and he’s fucking in love with you. 

He braces one hand back against your leg, holding it against his hips as he continues to fuck forward, still at the same pace. Deep and with purpose. Every few seconds the bursts of pleasure run through him, making him shiver and moan into your mouth. Little grunts, near whimpers for you to let him give you the world. 

More than this. More than fucking, more than taking care of you, more than anything he could ever possibly give you. He’ll find a way. 

And then, you’re clenching hard, matching his near-whimpers except moaning in full pants, babbling and drooling cries against his mouth. 

“Mama–” Haechan soothes, continuing his pace as he tilts his head back to get a good look at that lost gaze in your eyes. “You’re crying?”

You nod with a laugh, tears rolling down the same way the wet of your cunt slips down your ass. You’ve never felt so good, so fucking full.  And for some reason, that does him in. Making it last be damned, he genuinely thinks he’s won you over. He can make it last next time, he can do more next time, he can–

He leans back all the way now, onto his knees as your legs try to hug him back to you, and his eyes go straight back to those tits. The way he made a promise. The way they bounce, slick with his sweat from pressing against you. 

“Fuck, you’re so pretty.” He grunts in a breath, now quickening his pace and snapping his hips. Pulling out all the way briefly to plunge into your again. “Can’t get any deeper–” He continues, flicking his eyes from your face, to your tits, to that beautiful pussy of yours swallowing him up. 

Now his eyes roll back, hands going back to your thighs to push you back into position. No way in hell can he last, not at a pace like this, inside of a woman like you. 

“Don’t pull out.” You repeat again in a breath, seeing his face and the way he focuses solely on you. You know he’s going to cum, and you want him to. You want to feel it, every single fucking drop of it. 

“Yeah?” He nods his head with laser-focus on your pussy now, staring down as he points tight, short thrusts inside of you. “Momma wants my cum? Hm?”

Oh, he’s fucking gone.

“She likes it?” He continues to talk himself up. “Likes being so fucking full of it? Yeah?” 

Goddamn, fuck, he’s insane. 

“Yes, daddy–” You whisper-shout, fingers shooting to your clit, other hand raising to your mouth to silence the moans as to not be too loud. 

“Fuck, yeah you do.”  He lets out a near growl, his voice low and rumbled as he slaps your hand away, pressing hard on your clit with his thumb as he buries himself in you once more and stiffening his abs. “That’s right.”

And instantly upon feeling him pulse, that first spurt of cum painting your insides, you lose yourself with him. Your fingers drop from your mouth and you release a pornographic moan for him, rutting yourself against him, as if to fuck it deeper into you. 

It only prolongs the orgasm though, for both of you. 

Haechan is silent, trying to keep his eyes open through the pleasure as you pulse and squirt around him, his thumb pressing so hard  into your clit, his cock cumming so deep, filling you up so well– He wants to see it. Wants to watch you fall apart for him. Wants to witness the way you let him do this. 

And he holds himself there, so hard and so full of pleasure for you. Keeping himself practically impaled against your cervix until your body falls slack. Still, he fucks it into you, holding you in place with a softer moan now. No longer guttural or deep from his chest. His breathing is rough, a soft, near feminine moan leaves his lips as he falls forward onto you. 

You wince along with him at the sensitivity, panting, a sweating tangle of a mess the two of you have become. And it’s the fact that it’s the first time you’ve ever gotten off at the same time as someone else. You feel…soft. 

Your hands find their way to his hair as his face squished against your tits while he regains breath, not daring to move his hips because your pussy is too warm to leave right now. You brush the sweat-slicked hair out of his eyes, running your fingers all the way back to his nap, and then slowly down his back to rub and scratch.

He shivers at the feeling, humming the same feminine-tone he had released previously. And all he can do is hear your heart thumping against your chest, even through these soft tits of a pillow he’s lying against.

Haechan never wants to move again, not from this spot, ever. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“You know I’m in love with you, right?” Haechan mentions briefly after a long moment of silence, looking up at you with his wet hair. 

Deep in the night, your food still cold and on the table, you’ve found yourself freshly showered and on your living room couch with Haechan’s head on your lap. He made sure to have stayed long enough inside of you to implant…something if it was going to happen. So he didn’t argue a shower, and you didn’t argue letting him join you either. 

He had washed you, gently running his hands between your legs with what you can only describe as the softest, most alluring face a man has ever given you. Like he won the lottery, or found the answer to eternal life or something. You repaid him by letting him admire your tits again while you jerked him off, but that’s besides the point. 

“Like, I’m not going to leave. I hope you know that.” He adds with a soft groan to your hands still in his hair. His new favorite thing. 

You look down at him, hand moving to his cheek as the words hit you in the chest.

There’s anxiety along with happiness, at all of the boundaries and serious conversations that will need to be had now, but still, you feel like you’re glowing when he looks at you.

He didn’t even have to say it, and arguably you probably don’t need to say it back either. You think he sees it in you. Even if he didn’t, you think he’d take anything you give to him and cling to it. After all, it only took one time for you to break entirely for him. 

“Are you now?” You smile with a chuckle, looking back to the tv and pretending to watch it. “Well, that’s good. Otherwise I’d be making you go get a plan B or something.” 

His eyes narrow at you.

“Like hell I’d let you, even if I didn’t love you.” He groans. “But I do, so don’t ever say that shit again.”

You chuckle, feeling the calm in your home that once felt so chaotic. It’s quiet now, both inside and outside of your head. 

“Congratulations, by the way.”

He looks at you with question, quirking a brow.

“For finishing your finals, I mean.” You smile, going back to petting through his hair and feeling like you’re on top of the world, despite what you assume to become half of your world lying his head on top of you. 

“Oh, right.” He smiles, now turning his head to watch the tv. “I probably failed them.”

You don’t believe that, but even if he did, you think you could be what he needs too. He wouldn’t have to work if he didn’t want to.

If he’s really in love with you, all he’d have to do is…not leave. 

“Are you sure you want to be having these conversations with me? You can just call it a hook-up.” You finally say, hoping he means it, knowing it breaks your heart a bit to give him an out. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m going to trap you here just because I’m a little smitten too.” 

Haechan glares, blinking up at you.

“I literally just tried to put a baby in you.” 

That’s fair. 

“And you’re not going to run off? Get cold feet?” 

“Can you stop doubting me and just let me do what I want for once?” He argues playfully. “Do you even know how much that barbie fucking dream house costed me? I couldn’t run even if, for some stupid ass reason, wanted to. I love her too.”

Silence for a moment.

“Maybe even more than I love you.” 

You really, really, want to believe him.

So, you do. 

[foone]

Full disclosure ahead of time: I'm trans, and not a fan of Harry Potter, as you might guess. However...

My favorite thing about the writing of Harry Potter is how the first book is set several years earlier for no reason. It's set in 1991 and came out in 1997

Then because of how the books came out over many year and each book is a year later in the story, the last book ends up being set in 1997 and published in 2007, a full decade later.

This would be an interesting writing exercise if it was at all used by J. K. Rowling, but it's not. This very specific dating of the books, and increasing dated setting is just there so that Rowling can make repeated anachronistic errors because she forgot her characters aren't living in the modern day.

There is no upside to definitively setting Harry Potter in the near past: nothing comes of it in a way that'd be impossible to do if the books were set in a vague present. All setting them in the past does is let Rowling repeatedly make mistake, like having Dudley get a Playstation for his birthday.

In the 1997 she wrote that in? Perfectly reasonable present for a kid! In the summer of 1994 this scene is set it? Fucking impossible. The PS1 wouldn't be out in Japan until that December, and wouldn't be released in Europe until the next year, after his NEXT birthday.

And it's like... This is just the most well known of the anachronisms. There's an endless parade of them solely because she decided to set the books in specific years, a choice which gained her NOTHING! This doesn't happen because the final battle needs to happen at the millennium for prophecy reasons, or because she needs her characters to meet up with real life people who were dead or otherwise unavailable by the time the books were written, it's just some story element she picked and then never for one second thought about the consequences.

(Another retroactively funny mistake caused by this is that she ends up having a character inadvertently misgender Margaret Thatcher of all people, because they call the previous prime minister "he", and the because the scene is set in 1996, the prime minister is John Major, so the previous one should be Thatcher, but she's clearly thinking the current PM would be Tony Blair, and the previous one would be John Major)

I dunno. It feels like there's something meaningful in how J. K. Rowling made a clearly bad decision once and hasn't thought about any of the negative effects of her decision, standing by and doubling down on it, no matter how much it doesn't help her or anyone. It just seems like this might be a metaphor for something.

But who can really say?

(that last line assumes you're using dark mode)

[quantum1mmortality]

Captain Curly; marriage hcs <3

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Chat I know I mentioned getting back into writing for twst but the current hyperfixation is too strong rn so just bare with me I NEED to write for mouthwashing

!this is written with an AU in mind; curly still works for pony express, but there's no ship. Just a normal job. Also J***y doesn't exist.!

Tw/cw; afab!reader, mentions of pregnancy and having said baby, MANHANDLING!!!!, teasing, use of pet names, uhhh I can't think of any else

Not proofread

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Sfw

I think Curly would definitely be a family oriented person. The further you'd get into your relationship, the more he'd ask about your opinion on kids and if you'd want any in the future.

I also think Curly would be on the traditional side, too. If you said yes to having kids, he'd take that as an opportunity to show you how good of a provider he can be, and how willing he is to become a father.

When you do eventually have children, he'd be more than willing to take off work to help around the house. You just gave birth, he knows it's hard for you, so he'd make breakfast, lunch, and dinner for all three of you.

Sidenote; Curly would definitely be a good cook. He probably took culinary in highschool

If he knew Anya at the time, he'd have her babysit your children so he could take you out on dates. This happens quite often, too; probably around once or twice a month. He just wants to show how much he appreciates you and everything you've done for him and your relationship <3

He'd take you to the most expensive restaurants and tell you to order whatever you wanted, and if you're done breastfeeding, he'd order a bottle of champagne for you both.

He'd be one of those "I love my wife" husbands. Everyone at his job is so sick of hearing him talk so highly of you. It'll be someone's birthday, they'll bring a cake, and he just won't eat it. Why? "My wife could make a better cake."

After you guys got married, he couldn't stop calling you his wife. That name felt so surreal to him; like the woman of his dreams is finally his? And there's a title for that?? Of course he's going to use it constantly.

He probably also took Anya out to help him pick out a ring. And thank god he did btw because he would've gotten you a ring with the biggest diamond they had 😭😭 (sorry to all the big ring lovers in chat rn they're just not it for me)

Nsfw

Curly is a romantic. He'd want to take things slow, cherish you as much as possible, especially if it's your first time.

He wouldn't think of it as sex, he'd think of it as lovemaking; showing you his worth and how much he cares about you.

He rarely gets rough, you have to ask him to be because he just won't do it. But, he's a suck up for you, so if you want something, it's yours.

So, he'd get rough. He'd go faster than he usually does, maybe put his hand around your neck and squeeze ever so gently. But afterwards, he'd feel awful; like he was hurting you or something.

He'd apologize profusely, say he's never gonna do it again, but does it a few days later. It's like going through the five stages of grief but skipping the first four and consistently being at acceptance

He's a hand holder. Since he's an intimate person, his preferred position is missionary. He likes this position for a few reasons; he gets to see your expression if you're enjoying it or uncomfortable, he gets to kiss you, and he can hold your hand. It's one of his favorite things to do, not only because he finds it much more romantic, but he also loves how you squeeze his hand when you're getting close.

Teasing is one of the things he does best. But verbal teasing, not physical. You can hear him giggle anytime he's inside you, practically taunting you when he knows you're close. He'd say something dumb like, "aw, is princess gonna cum?" And then have a shit eating grin on his face.

Pet names are another thing he uses often. Like I said previously, he'd call you princess, but there's also other names he'd call you during the act. Love, darling, and angel are the ones he uses for you most commonly, aside from princess of course.

I saw someone else say this on here and their hcs were actually what made me want to write (I swear on my SOUL I am NOT trying to copy them 🙏🙏🙏🙏 sorry if it comes off like that) but they said Curly would be buff and I completely agree. He would be HUGE, I'm thinking 6'3-6'5, easily over 220lbs.

The manhandling would go CRAZY, you don't like a position? No issue, he'll just pick you up and put you in a different one. Can't keep your legs open while he's being a munch? As much as he enjoys the feeling of suffocating between your thighs, which believe me, he does, he can't exactly pleasure you if he's unconscious from the lack of airflow. Not a big issue, a firm hand on each leg will do the trick.

Another comment on his body alone to wrap this up; he'd definitely be muscular in his legs and especially his arms. I think his stomach would be toned, not a six pack, but toned. Maybe even a little pudge and a v line 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭

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A/N: hi guys pls send requests for curly fics plasplsplspslsplsplslsplspls I'm so thirsty for this man oh ky god I'm crynng

[hoshigray]

𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐞 [𝐍𝐎𝐓]!! | a JJK series

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: “GO FUCK YOURSELF, SATORU GOJO!” “BETTER THAN FUCKING YOU!” It’s no secret to anyone on this Earth that you and Gojo cannot stand each other. Despite that, the world seems amused to put these two star-crossed lovers haters in the same space. Or worse, have them dwell deeper into their feelings for one another…

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Gojo x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern + college AU - frenemies to lovers + mutual pining - fluff + angst + misunderstandings - first kiss - virginity loss - Gojo and reader are at least age 20 - secret relationships; implied friends-with-benefits - sex in shared rooms; college dorms + hotel suite - college parties - use of party games (seven minutes in heaven) - confessions - mention of drug/alcohol abuse - humor bc Gojo and college, lol - Gojo is a cocky, tactless sweetheart, nothing new - cameos of other characters + explicit content will be listed in their respective fics (within the contents).

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: when I say that I had this series planned out, I mean like mid-October last year planned out, lmaoo!! I'm honestly so psyched to do this series, as it's one of my favorite tropes + relatively short as I'll be busy irl, but we'll do what we can!! i was lowkey feeling this concept when i was re-watching Ranma 1/2 and figured it would work great with Gojo. So, here's to hoping i can properly execute my thoughts with this series, hehehe~

reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ❤︎ gif header made by me + fic dividers used are provided by the wonderful @cafekitsune and @animatedglittergraphics-n-more!!

𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝑰𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑨𝒊𝒓...

All the material below contains explicit 18+ content, so minors do not interact.

₊˚⊹♡ 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 (Feb 1st)

The start of the spring semester is supposed to be fresh and new, not be cramped up in a closet with your frenemy at a party! And what's worse: you actually like the feeling of his lips on yours!?

₊˚⊹♡ 𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐝 (Feb 7th)

Is it possible to wish to be in the embrace of someone who makes you want to throw them off a cliff? You seem to think so, and the same goes for Gojo. But alas, good things always come to an end, even when not meant to be...

₊˚⊹♡ 𝐒𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲, 𝐈 𝐇𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 (Feb 14th)

Going on a date with the guy who broke your heart is something you’d never thought would happen – especially on Valentine’s Day! But it’s just for him to be in your good graces again, nothing more…Yeah, go ahead and tell yourself that.

𝑨 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝑳𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒀𝒐𝒖!

Would you like to be tagged when these pieces get released? Lmk in the replies, please, and thank you!

𝑻𝑨𝑮 𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 𝑪𝑳𝑶𝑺𝑬𝑫!!! Have made a list of the first 50 ppl who asked, but don't worry!! Check back for the stories when they're posted on their respective dates!!

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 ❤︎ These stories have been written by the original poster (me). Do not steal, edit, copy/plagiarize, or post any of my works on your own accounts, in or out of this app. Please and thank you.

[hyunebunx]

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ⏖ ’ show don’t tell with skz !

⁺ 𖹭 . genre: fluff

⁺ 𖹭 . a/n: how the boys say i love you without saying i love you. hope you like it <3

𝜗୧ chan 𝜗୧ - “I’m here for you.”

And he always means it. No matter how busy or stressed he is, if you call Chan comes running. Being your shoulder to cry on is his full-time job, to be honest.

This doesn’t only apply to when you’re going through something though. Chan is there for you when things are hard, of course, but he’s also always present when you accomplish something, doesn’t matter how small it is.

The most supportive boyfriend who never forgets to celebrate you. It’s such a normality in your relationship that you only realize how thoughtful and amazing he is when you look back, and his face comes to mind for every major event that took place in your life in the past year.

Is the epitome of ‘ride or die’ and you can’t change my mind.

𝜗୧ minho 𝜗୧ - by always looking out for you.

No matter what you are doing, Minho’s eyes will always gravitate towards you. To ensure you are safe, that you aren’t struggling with anything or feeling uncomfortable. Or so, he says, but in reality, he really enjoys just observing you in your everyday life, every action of yours adorable in his eyes.

If you are struggling, he’s by your side in a heartbeat. Most of the time, you won’t even realize he’s there until whatever was giving you problems is taken care of.

You can’t open something? Minho’s got it. You’re struggling with work? He’s quietly thinking of a solution and writing it down. You’re stressed? He’s already prepared your favorite snack and is on his way over.

Minho loves quietly yet his actions don’t let you forget about that love even for a second.

𝜗୧ changbin 𝜗୧ - by peppering kisses all over your face every opportunity he gets.

To him, you are absolutely adorable and sometimes, he gets this urge to just smother you with all of his love all at once. What’s ‘playing it coy’? Changbin’s never heard of her.

He’s usually one who doesn't shy away from expressing his love verbally, however, there are times when words just aren’t enough.

So, he’ll randomly lean towards you and start small, with a kiss or two on your cheeks before giving in and not stopping until he’s kissed every inch of your face.

He doesn’t play when it comes to you so, he’ll only stop when he shows you exactly how strong the feelings he carries in his heart are.

𝜗୧ hyunjin 𝜗୧ - by keeping a picture of you in his wallet.

I mean, of course, this is Hyunjin we are talking about. And the picture in question is one he took himself on one of your many dates.

Switches it out once every couple of months and sometimes, even keeps two at a time. He can’t help it – you look so beautiful and radiant, that being greeted by your smiling face every time he opens his wallet lifts his spirits instantly.

When he misses you, he’ll absentmindedly open his wallet for no reason just to see your face, even though he’s aware he can call and see your beaming smile whenever he pleases.

Swiftly sneaks a picture of himself in your own wallet so you can match.

𝜗୧ jisung 𝜗୧ - by dedicating every song he writes to you.

Being loved by you is the best thing that’s ever happened to him and nobody can convince Jisung otherwise.

That’s why, every time he sits down to work, his head is full of thoughts of you that just never go away. His heart is so full of love, he can’t help but at least attempt to put all of that into words.

Has written dozens of songs about you and the magical way you make him feel and they all sound like something that would play at the gates of heaven, just dreamy. The purest form of love.

Grabs his guitar and serenades you only with the songs he deems worthy of your attention.

𝜗୧ felix 𝜗୧ -  “you look tense, let me give you a massage.”

That’s what he says but, in the end, he pampers you until you have to physically stop him. A hand massage, a face one, Felix becomes your personal masseur.

When you do stop him, he just moves on to hugging and cuddling you, leaving the occasional kiss here and there.

He can’t be too far apart from you, it physically hurts him. Has to touch and feel you near at all times, no matter what you’re doing. Links your pinkies together and just follows you around like a puppy.

Will do your skincare and even wash your hair for you, anything. Just ask.

𝜗୧ seungmin 𝜗୧ - “this reminded me of you.”

No matter what he’s doing, if he spots something in a store that makes his thoughts rush to you, he’s stopping that activity and going in immediately.

Doesn’t care about the money – the gifts can range from jewellery to random, sometimes ugly souvenirs he finds abroad at a gift shop. His mind works in mysterious ways, you can never know what silly thing would suddenly remind Seungmin of you next.

“You.” And it’s either the ugliest keychain you’ve ever seen or the most beautiful flowers, there’s no in-between.

Gets you a stuffed puppy so you can also be reminded of him at all times, just like he’s constantly thinking of you.

𝜗୧ jeongin 𝜗୧ - by quietly wiping your tears and holding you when upset.

He’s the type that won’t say anything and just bring you into the warmest, most comforting hug ever. His bear hugs will have you melting in his arms, making you feel super safe.

So gentle and soft-spoken, literally handles you like you’re made of glass when he sees something has truly upset you.

Will wipe your tears and listen to whatever you have to say, giving you his full attention. Also gets you water and helps you remove your makeup, or fix your hair when you feel better.

Won’t let go until he’s convinced you actually feel better and even then, an eye is still on you while he intertwines your fingers and goes on about his business.

[surftrips]

ABOUT YOU | LUKE CASTELLAN

pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader

request: luke x reader fluff w like an aphrodite!reader? reader is all sunshine and flowers and makes luke all soft/campers teasing luke abt the way reader changed him 🤭

word count: 1.6k

a/n: this is probably my favorite luke fic that i've written so far thank u so much anon for sending this request in! writing aphrodite!reader is so much fun, i'm such a sucker for the opposites trope. hope you all enjoy 🤍

You were the human embodiment of sunshine, a real life angel. Gentle, kind, and lovely— in other words, the complete and total opposite of Luke Castellan. He was dark and broody, strong and rough, and not totally unfriendly, but definitely intimidating. 

But even if you weren’t the daughter of Aphrodite, Luke believed that you would still be just as beautiful. There was something in the way you carried yourself that had made his heart surrender the second he laid eyes on you. You became the one and only exception in his long list of grievances. 

So it came as no surprise to anyone at camp when the two of you started dating, just to the dismay of many of your admirers and a few of Luke’s as well. If there was one thing you had in common, it was your beauty. With his puppy dog eyes and curly brown hair, Luke was a sight for sore eyes, almost as much as you were. 

One day, you were walking hand in hand when one of the younger campers accidentally bumped into Luke. On any other occasion, Luke might have started an altercation, but today, he simply smiled and said, “Just be careful next time.” The camper stared at him, wide-eyed and shocked into place as you softly giggled.

“What?” he smiled, looking over at you as the kid took it as an opportunity to run away. 

“Nothing,” you mused. “Just that I think you’re getting soft, Luke Castellan.” You poked a finger at his chest playfully. 

“What?” he shook his head. “No, I’m not.” 

Though he attempts to keep a serious face, you could see the amusement in his eyes. He often looked at you like this, ready to go along with anything you said— no matter how silly or whimsical your remarks. 

“Okay, lover boy. Whatever you say,” you shrugged, offering him a kiss on his cheek that instantly causes color to rush into his face. Ignoring that he’s just proven your point, he attempts to hide his expression by seeking solace in the crook of your neck. He would never admit it to anyone, but he often thought his favorite place at camp was the spot in between your jaw and collarbone. 

Even though most of the campers were still a little frightened by the idea of approaching Luke, his closest friends were not afraid to speak their minds. 

“Dude, you’re like, totally whipped for her,” Percy remarked over lunch once. 

“And you’re like, totally fourteen years old,” Luke said.

“I think the fourteen year old’s right,” Chris jumped in.

“Dude! I thought you were supposed to have my back,” Luke throws up his arms in mock aggravation.

The two boys snickered, causing Luke to speak up again. “I am not whipped for Y/N.” 

“Oh, sure,” Chris began. “So the reason you’re practically skipping around camp and letting whatever team Aphrodite cabin is in win Capture the Flag is because…?” 

“Oh, and don’t forget the constant checking his phone to see if she texted back and sharing his blanket with her at the campfire!” Percy pointed out. “Meanwhile, I’m over here freezing…” 

“Maybe,” Luke scrambled to come up with an answer. “Maybe, I was just in a really good mood those days. It could have absolutely nothing to do with Y/N.” 

He barely believed the words himself, and Chris and Percy were certainly not convinced. Luke wasn’t even sure why he felt the need to defend himself. 

“Dude, it’s okay if you are, she’s literally your girlfriend,” Chris said.

“Hey! I have an idea, let’s ask Annabeth!” Percy declared.

“Annabeth? Why her?” Luke furrowed his brow. 

“Because, she’s a girl. And she’s known you the longest, she can give us a real answer,” Percy said matter-of-factly. 

Luke thought it over. The young boy was technically right, Annabeth was like a little sister to him. If anyone could tell if he had changed since dating you, it would be her. This came as both a good and bad realization to him, because what if he had changed? Gods, was it that obvious? 

Before he could agree to asking Annabeth, the young girl was already at their table. Percy must have called her over while Luke was thinking. 

“What’s up?” she asked, sitting down across from him with her plate of food. 

“Oh, nothing, just talking about how soft Luke has gotten since he started dating Y/N,” Chris explained with a grin on his face. 

“Oh?” Annabeth said, seemingly amused. 

“Yeah, we actually wanted to get your opinion,” Percy continued. “Would you say you agree or disagree, that you know, Luke is nicer now that he’s with Y/N?”

Annabeth seemed to think it over for a second. “Gods, you guys are such children,” she scoffed. 

“Thank you!” Luke cut in.

“I mean, all of you,” she looked at Luke pointedly. “Why do you care what a bunch of kids think about you anyway? And not that it matters, but you, Castellan, are most definitely whipped for Y/N.” 

That shut Luke up immediately, and caused cheers to erupt from Chris and Percy, who were clapping each other on their backs as if they had just won Capture the Flag. 

Annabeth smiled and shrugged her shoulders, as if to say “Sorry, Luke. It’s true.” 

Later that night, Luke snuck over to the Aphrodite Cabin to find you. You were surprised when Luke woke you up, it had been a while since he came seeking your comfort in the middle of the night. He used to have bad nightmares, but you noticed he had gotten better since you started dating. You’d like to think it was because of you, but perhaps that would be thinking too highly of yourself.  

In an effort to clear his mind, you suggested to go on a walk together. He agreed, and you climbed out of bed as quietly as you could.

You allowed him a few minutes of silence until his heavy breathing had slowed down and his grip on your hand had loosened. 

“What’s on your mind, hon?” you asked softly. 

Luke didn’t respond at first, distracting himself by tracing the lines on the palm of your hand. You were happy to give him as much time as he needed, placing your other hand on his back and gently drawing circles.

After a while, he did speak up. “Uhm, do you think that I’m, like, unapproachable?” 

Your heart sank and you stopped in your tracks. “What makes you say that?” 

“I don’t know, it’s just something that’s been on my mind recently.” 

“Luke, is this about what I said to you the other day? Because I didn’t mean it like that—” 

“No, baby,” he rushed. The last thing he wanted was for you to think you had done something wrong. He wasn’t sure that you could ever do wrong, not in his eyes. “I was just talking to Percy and Chris at lunch today and they were kind of teasing me.” 

You couldn’t help but giggle at the thought of your boyfriend, Mr. Tough Guy, being teased by a few kids younger than him. “I’m sorry, babe. Continue,” you placed a supportive hand on his chest as you regained your composure. 

“They said that I’ve changed since we started dating.” 

Though you were an expert in human emotion, there were still times you couldn’t read the expression on Luke’s face. You couldn’t tell if he thought of this as a bad thing, or if he was just curious to see what you thought. You decided on the latter. “Changed how so?” 

“They think I’m soft now because I’m always in a good mood and stuff…” he trailed off. Even now, in the dark of the night, you could tell he was blushing.

“Well,” you started, trying to find the right words. “You know, I was just teasing you the other day, babe. I think you’ve always been this way.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, I think you’ve always been a giant teddy bear,” you grinned, unable to contain yourself. “Luke, you’re not as bad as everyone thinks you are.” 

By now, both of you had stopped walking. Ever since Luke arrived at camp, he had been characterized as the tough, stony, and slightly antagonistic guy. All because of a scar he carried and the stories of what he had gone through with Annabeth and Thalia. Many people were still intimidated by him, despite his position as the counselor in Hermes and his job to welcome newcomers. It had been so long, he wasn’t sure if this was the way he was, or the way that he was made to be. 

As if reading his thoughts, you said, “You don’t have to be what they tell you to be. Do you know the words I use to describe you when someone asks me about you?” 

Unable to speak, Luke simply shook his head. 

“Gentle, kind, and lovely.” 

Luke wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but certainly nothing close to the words you had chosen. “You do not,” he objected. 

“I'm serious, baby,” you placed your hands on his cheeks and pulled him in until your foreheads were touching. “I think you’re the most wonderful and caring guy I’ve ever met. I think you always have been, you just don’t always show it.”

He stared at you intently before pulling a loose strand of hair out of your face. You kissed the top of his head, “I must be one lucky girl.” 

“Hey, if there’s one thing I’m sure about, it’s that I’m the lucky one,” he said, before pulling you in for a kiss. 

[cherrygirlfriend]

some of my best friend rafe cameron headcanons

warning: nsfw, minors dni!! my brain is just best friend rafe brainrot i'm so down bad for him <333 these are some headcanons i have for the best friend rafe blurbs and fics i've been writing !!! the sfw and nsfw headcanons are separated by the divider :)

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ SFW ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

ʚɞ you've been best friends since childhood. he'd do anything for you.

ʚɞ spoils the hell out of you. he'd do ANYTHING to make you happy, buys you all the things you want, you text him that you're having a bad day BOOM there's three hundred dollars in your bank account.

ʚɞ whenever you're on your period he comes over with all your favorite things and reluctantly cuddles you (but grumbles about it) even though you know he secretly likes it.

ʚɞ he can't stand it when you're ignoring him. spams you with texts and calls. sometimes you block him and he deadass shows up behind your door begging for forgiveness and then fucks you until you cry <3

ʚɞ also whenever you're mad at him for some dumbass shit he does (bc let's face it he's a grade a dumbass sometimes) he thinks he can bribe his way out of it but you're just like ... bitch please.

ʚɞ the thing between you started when you drunkenly confessed to him that no guy had ever made you have an orgasm and you could only get off when you were on your own... and rafe was determined to change that (and he did. multiple times that night and the morning after.)

ʚɞ bought you a locket with his initial on the back (on the inside there's a a pic of you two kissing in a photobooth as well as one of you as children.)

ʚɞ you bought a watch for him for his birthday and he wears it every single day. your initials are carved in the back.

ʚɞ has a folder on his phone full of pictures you took together, and of pictures of you. password-protected.

ʚɞ sometimes you read to him and it drives him INSANE. he could listen to your voice for hours and hours on end.

ʚɞ you had always thought he wasn't a relationship person and that's why he didn't want to be official, so when he started dating sofia you had such a bitch fit. wouldn't talk to him for weeks. he tried everything, bribing you, showing up to your house... but eventually you caved in and you guys started fooling around behind her back (against the mirror) and although he feels kinda bad for cheating he just can't resist you.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ NSFW ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

ʚɞ pet names. pet names. PET NAMES!!! his go-to are princess, angel, and bunny. one time you called him daddy during sex and he almost blew his load.

ʚɞ loves going raw and coming in you. makes him feel like you belong to him and only him <3 literally had you go on birth control bc you were getting sick of having to get plan b because he was conveniently out of condoms every time you fooled around and he swears he just "accidentally" came in you when he said he'd pull out. you made him promise that he wouldn't go raw with anyone else tho and he doesn't.

ʚɞ really likes missionary bc he loves to see your face when you come it drives him INSANE how pretty you look taking him.

ʚɞ giving him head whenever he's stressed or having a bad day. he returns the favor tho <3

ʚɞ loves taking his time with you but also really likes rushed, messy quickies whenever you're busy.

ʚɞ one time you guys were hanging out with mutual friends and when your dress hiked up, he could see that you'd written his initial on your thigh and it took everything in him to not take you into the nearest bathroom and fucking the hell out of you ... instead he did that right after you two left xxx.

ʚɞ literally takes you to buy lingerie... ON HIS BIRTHDAY... and you try them all out for him later that night and he gets to be the one to take them off. accidentally rips one of the panties he bought for you but he orders a new pair right after <3

ʚɞ chokes you. nuf said.

ʚɞ your phone's wallpaper is actually a pic of his hand around your neck that he took with his signature ring on his finger.

ʚɞ whenever you see him out and about with sofia you accidentally send him a pic of you in lingerie. then you see his eyes widen and later that night he fucks you so hard you leave actual clawmarks on his back.

ʚɞ sometimes he leaves bruises on you, and even though he feels bad about it afterwards it also turns him on like CRAZY. he loves marking you up, and sometimes you end up with hickeys and your friends question where they came from and you just shrug. to them, he's just some mystery hook-up, but they have no idea it's your best friend.

ʚɞ you sometimes let him record you during sex and he watches the videos of you whenever he misses you. has a whole password-protected folder in his phone of your nudes and videos you took together.

[povlnfour]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ TALES OF CANDOR (LN4)

pairing: lando norris x f!author!reader

summary: lando’s girlfriend has a secret identity. she’s not quite the girl next door everyone assumed, and he might just be the inspiration for more than just her instagram captions.

warnings: some hate comments

* faceclaim: mélanie, aka wailcester on ig (please imagine her as you see fit)

ੈ✩‧₊˚ landonorris just posted a photo

liked by yourusername and 508,651 others

landonorris some days @ home

👤 tagged yourusername

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user i hope ur enjoying ur time off!

user no hate but like what does his gf actually do?

user literally nothing she’s jobless💀

user it’s giving🏅👷‍♀️

user lando i love u but half naked pics of ur girl isn’t helping how much we dislike her…

user what’s she reading!!!

yourusername a thousand splendid suns by khaled hosseini!!

user ofc u are. i totally believe u acc read well written books. u probably just read gossip columns but want to seem interesting🙄

ੈ✩‧₊˚ musingsofcandor just posted a photo

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musingsofcandor biscuit approves of the final draft🤍

👤 tagged acatcalledbiscuit

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user HELLO??? CANDOR DOES THIS MEAN WE R GETTING A NEW BOOK

user i love that we know more abt candy’s cat than we do her…

user can’t wait to read it🥹🥹

rickriordan has to be my favorite thing you’ve written!

user RICK’S READ IT??? OH YOU KNOW ITS GOOD

user lando norris in the likes he’s just like all of us fr

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo

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yourusername ‘when she finally got the camera film developed, seeing his face made it all come rushing back’🦋🫧🧚🏻

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user im sorry i know we r meant to be supportive but she annoys me sm. is she just living off of lando’s money?

user omg the caption!!!

user i recognise it, where’s it from?

user it’s from ‘tales of peter rourke’ by candor!!!

user 🤢

user we get it… ur dating someone rich. now get a job!

ੈ✩‧₊˚ mclaren interview

[captions:

interviewer: what have you been up to in your break?

lando: a lot of lounging around with my girlfriend. read a few books too!

interviewer: anything good?

lando: i’m really into magical reality at the moment! that kind of it’s all normal till it’s not stuff, you know?

interviewer: any good recommendations?

lando: if you like that same genre, i recommend ‘the right side of upside’ by candor! it’s pretty recent, i finished it last week.]

comments

user he likes candor??? he’s so real for that

user KNEW I COULD TRUST HIM

user bad taste in women good taste in books

ੈ✩‧₊˚ musingsofcandor just posted a photo

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musingsofcandor thank you for all the love lately on ‘the right side of upside’. insane seeing so many of you recommend it, biscuit and i are eternally grateful. love, candy🤍

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user QUEEN DID YOU SEE LANDO RECOMMENDED IT

user CANDY HAS A MAN???

user love u forever ur so talented

user CANT WAIT TO SEE WHAT YOU DO NEXT. CANT BELIEVE WE HAVE TO WAIT NOW

musingsofcandor it might be sooner than you think ;)

user UM. candor is this a soft launch?????

ੈ✩‧₊˚ landonorris just posted a photo

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landonorris got some super helpful race advice today

👤 tagged acatnamedbiscuit, musingsofcandor

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user OH MY GOD MY WORLDS ARE COLLIDING

user LANDO WE NEED TO KNOW EVERYTHING IS SHE CUTE I FEEL LIKE SHES CUTE

user break up w ur gf and date candor when

musingsofcandor biscuit says he can’t be held responsible for the outcome🐾

landonorris can i hold you responsible instead, candy?

user UHHHH WHATS GOING ON HERE

user i just know y/n is feeling THREATENED

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo

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yourusername all mine

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user LMAOOO U STARTED SWEATING HUH

user candor could steal ur man if she really wanted to

user GIRL YOU’RE SO OBVIOUS

landonorris yours🖤

user STOP LYINGGGG

ੈ✩‧₊˚ an exclusive interview with candor : entertainment weekly

interviewer: so candor! tell us how it really feels having the world at your feet!

candor: [laughing] honestly quite normal! it’s a blessing and a curse, really, not having my identity revealed. i get to live my life without those pressures, but i don’t get to see anyone and thank them for reading!

interviewer: do you ever get the urge to approach someone reading one of your books?

candor: all the time! whenever i go browsing in book stores and see someone looking at or buying mine, i have such a temptation to scream THANK YOU at them!

interviewer: do you see a future in which you reveal your identity?

candor: maybe! there are a few of my fans who know who i am, those who attend the secret events and signings, but i’m very lucky that they all respect my privacy and haven’t shared anything further. perhaps one day soon i’ll finally let everyone in on the secret.

interviewer: and we can’t talk to you and not bring up your cat — or rather, who your cat met the other day…?

candor: oh! i’m assuming you mean lando norris? yes! he’s a pretty good friend of mine, he’s been a big support over the last few years and we found some time in our schedules last week to meet up.

interviewer: so you’re a formula 1 fan?

candor: huge fan! i’m a big mclaren girl so lando and i met through their events!

interviewer: oh fantastic! see folks reading this, she really is just like us!

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo

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yourusername cars going vroom vroom makes my heart go boom boom

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user lmao posting before and after candor’s interview. girl ur not subtle.

user im so sorry but ur clearly so threatened it’s hilarious

user i don’t get all the hate in here??? she’s just in love n happy?

user shes a gold digger

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ੈ✩‧₊˚ musingsofcandor just posted a photo

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musingsofcandor told you it wouldn’t be long🫧 ‘thomasin jeffe, the cat, and the diplomat’ will be with you next friday. a lot of love poured into this one over the past few years, i just couldn’t wait any longer to give it to you🤍

already a member on my website? check your emails🦋

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user WHDHSJSJSJSJS

user OH MY GOD ITS HAPPENING

user THE EMAILLLLL🥹

user candy omg where do you live that looks so pretty!!!!

musingsofcandor monaco !!

landonorris 🖤

user lando using the black heart and candor using the white… i’m sorry to his gf (not really) but they’re meant to be

ੈ✩‧₊˚ user just posted a photo

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user the best day of my life!!! thank you so much candor for being the absolute sweetest human and taking time to talk to each and every one of us! i cannot wait to read thomasin jeffe, the cat, and the diplomat🥹🤍

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user YOU MET HERRRRE???

user WHO IS SHE TELL TELL TELL

user candor asks us not to share her identity so i’m gonna respect that but LET ME TELL YOU I WAS SHOCKED

user i recognise her from just that inch of her face but i can’t tell whERE FROM

musingsofcandor it was WONDERFUL to meet you! i hope you enjoy the story🤍

user wish people on twitter were as kind as this,,, there’s photos of her going around :/

ੈ✩‧₊˚ f1wags just posted a photo

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f1wags the internet has been in PIECES after famous author candor’s recent book signing. photos have emerged of the popular anonymous author from the event, revealing her to be none other than LANDO NORRIS’ GIRLFRIEND, Y/N! turns out, she has a job after all👀 (pictures taken from y/n’s instagram!)

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user i… cannot believe this

user see. when y’all were hating on her you were secretly worshipping her

user @ everyone who was an arse to y/n… KARMA IS A BITCH!

user WHAT????

user HOLY SHIT LANDO HAS BEEN DATING MY FAV AUTHOR THIS WHOLE TIME????

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yourusername well. the secrets out. it’s been a long few years, but it’s nice to not have to hold it in any more.

both my accounts will remain active for separate purposes, but i’m excited to be able to introduce you to candor as she is in her whole truth — just like her name suggests🤍

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user ironically this is exactly how i picture marian elsie from thomasine jeffe looking. full fairy

user i am. so sorry. so so so sorry. i know nothing can ever compare for the things we said but i really am

yourusername thank you. no hard feelings on my end🤍

ੈ✩‧₊˚ landonorris just posted a photo

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landonorris my candy. it may not have been how you intended, but i’m glad i get to show off how proud of you i am.

i’ve watched you as both candor and y/n for a while now, and i love both versions of you entirely. i cannot wait to see what you do now you have the freedom to be whoever you want to.

and hey, pretty cool to be able to say i’m the inspiration behind some of your characters, huh?🖤

ps. so glad i can finally share photos of mY CAT. even if he does hate me biscuit is MINE as well

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user love the clarification that the most important thing to lando is sharing photos of his cat😭😭

user MORE PICS OF BISCUIT PLEASE

user i’ve always been in love with her i can say that confidently

user oh so you’re a successful fanboy

yourusername biscuit told me to tell u ur smelly for using him for likes

landonorris you literally said to me omg i can post about biscuit now YOU FEEL THE SAME DONT LIE

ੈ✩‧₊˚ musingsofcandor just posted a photo

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musingsofcandor i’ve had a bit of inspiration for some time🤍

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user MOM AND DAD

user i can’t believe this. my worlds are colliding

user I KNEW CAPTAIN ROURKE FELT FAMILIAR IN THE TALES OF PETER ROURKE

user i can’t believe my fav ever love interest is based on lando….

landonorris i love you. thanks for immortalising me🖤

————

a/n: hello hello! another one whilst i recover!

so this was based on an anon request and i have had so much fUN writing it!!!! whilst i don’t normally do requests generally due to being overwhelmed easily, this one stood out to me as i Love books so i was inspired. to the anon who requested, i hope this is what you imagined🤍

in terms of further requests! whilst i can’t promise i’ll do them, if you have any pressing ideas you think would work with my style , do feel free to send them in ! i always love to hear your ideas (and any thoughts on my works!! please send feedback as well!!) and will try gradually to get through some🤍

fun fact: all the book titles are based on actual books i have written hehe

fun fact pt2: yes her pseudonym is chosen bc i watched divergent last night

taglist (found in pinned post): @idkiwantchocolatee @vellicora @alessioayla @bborra @crimeshowjunkie @minkyungseokie @paolexsstuff @celestialpato @champagnelovers101 @loxbbg @hobiismyhopeu @tsukishitm-a @moonypixel @champagneproblems17 @ironmaiden1313 @lqvesoph @sunflower-golden-vol6 @six-call @skatingiswalkingincursive @peqch-pie @m0cha-bunny @woozarts @he6rtshaker @iluvvmeeee @goldenalbon @izzy-marvel @lucyysthings @lichterfee @tallrock35

[cherryredcheol]

"baby"

tldr: all the way seungcheol uses your nickname a/n: this has been written and waiting to be posted forEVER but i'm finally ready (i am down horrific for this man)

seungcheol x reader fluff wc: 1k

reprimands: to make sure you know he's yours

“baby.” his tone is firm, controlling. he thought it would be a good idea to invite you to his shoot today, thinking you'd like to see him in the expensive clothes he was always put in for cover shoots. what he didn’t account for was you pouting over the friendly makeup artist assigned to him for the day. 

“don’t pout. you know i only have eyes for you.” he was trying to reason with you but his patience was wearing thin. you were being difficult on purpose and he couldn’t really do anything about it given the need to protect his image and act as professional as possible. you just huffed, frown settling deeper on your face. 

“you’re being a little unreasonable,” based on the look you gave him that was the completely wrong thing to say to you. he turned when he heard them call for him from set. it was time to shine. he walked over to where you sat, bending down to meet your eyes, “if you’re good for the rest of the day i’ll reward you when we get home, baby.” 

whines: when he doesn’t have your attention

“baby,” he could hear the pathetic tone in his voice but he just couldn’t help it. he’d had a long day of meetings and listening to presentations, the only thing keeping him going was knowing that you would be waiting at home for him when it was all over. you’d look at him with your soft eyes and dote on him all weekend, just how he liked. now here he was, waiting to be coddled and you were too busy giggling at your phone to spare him a glance. 

“what could be so entertaining on the phone that you can’t spend time with me?” he was laying it on thick but he was desperate at this point, especially when his question was only answered by another tittering laugh that was still not directed at him. at this point, he was fed up. he craned his neck to see what had you all giggly. 

“oh my god. you’re kidding me!” he couldn’t believe his eyes. playing on your phone was an edit of him from the most recent gose episode. the clip wasn’t even his best moment in the episode, but he did look quite handsome that day so he can’t blame you for watching. he still really wanted to be fussed over, “seriously, put your phone down. i’m much cuter in person, baby.” 

cat-calls: as you walk by in his favorite dress

“baby!” he called out to you, dragging out the ‘y’ sound. you paused, stopping in the middle of the bedroom as you crossed from the closet to the ensuite bathroom. he was seated on the bed, tying his shoelaces when he caught sight of you in the soft pink sundress he loved so much. you looked at him with big, curious eyes, wondering why he had stopped you in the middle of getting ready for your date in the park. 

“spin for me.” he got up from the bed and reached for your hand. he held it up, above your head and twirled you in a circle, eyes taking in every inch of you. he was excited to have a picnic with you but now he was considering scrapping the whole thing to stay behind. seeing you in a sundress always did something to him. 

“you’re so beautiful,” he was full of compliments, making sure you knew exactly how beautiful he thought you were. he considered himself a lucky man every day he got to spend with you. he supposed his desire for you could wait a few hours. he should spoil you rotten with a date in the park, before spoiling you in bed. “sure you really want to go out, baby?”

admires: because he’s proud of you

“baby,” his voice is soft, eyes even softer as he cups your face. he’d just gotten home from his schedule and you’d greeted him at the door, immediately sharing the news of your promotion with him. it was a small, mostly lateral move, with a tiny raise but you were still excited to share the news with him. he kisses you deeply, trying to convey his pride to you wordlessly. 

“i should tell my mom. she’s going to be so happy for you.” this made you blush. you knew he’d be proud but you didn’t really expect him to be so happy that he’d want to tell everyone. it wasn’t even a big deal. you begged him not to call his mom right that moment and instead conceded to a spontaneous celebratory dinner at your favorite restaurant. 

“i’m so proud of you,” this was now the sixth time he told you this since you shared the news with him, the second on the car ride to the restaurant. you blushed every time he said it, and had asked him to stop, to which he refused. in fact, he had doubled down. he threatened to have a cake brought to the table at dinner if you tried to silence him again. at a red light, he fished his phone out of his pocket, handing it over to you, “call my mom, for real. i want us to share the news with her. she’s going to be so proud, baby.”

barks: on accident

“baby!” the name came out harsh, frustrated. you’d never heard it that way before; this time, it wasn’t even directed at you. the dressing room fell silent and you watched the blush creep up his neck. the boys were never going to let him live this down. he turned from you, the conversation you were having before he went on stage now gone from his mind. 

“sorry, i meant to say ‘seungkwan’”. he was trying to save the situation but it was awkward. not only had he tried to reprimand his members but he’s accidentally used your name to do it, embarrassing himself in front of his members, staff, and you. what was once a bustling hub of movement and concert preparation came to a screeching, uncomfortable halt at his faux pas. 

“we know you like seungkwan, but we didn't know you liked him that much, hyung.” jeonghan broke the tension saving his leader and ushering in some polite laughter. the commotion slowly began again and he turned back to you. his face looked normal, probably due to the makeup, but his neck was bright red. he was flustered, “they’re never going to let this go, baby.”

[covenofagatha]

could you write something about divorced reader and agatha? them being mothers to a child, both decided to put what happened that lead to the divorce aside and keep communicating to each other as to try and keep a health relationship with their kid. they think their kid deserves to have both mothers present in his or her life.

then one day agatha discovers that reader is planning to go on a date, meaning she's trying to move on with her life. agatha is furious (in the jealous way), they argue a lot, it's very angst, full of emotions, they end up fucking and in the end they talk to each other about trying to restart things to be together again. they know it's not going to be easy but they realize their feelings for each other are still there. thank you!! (if you could angst and nsfw)

Okay this is genuinely one of my favorite things i've ever written so I really hope everyone likes it

Also my first time writing real angst so hopefully it wasn't terrible

Title is from a Taylor Swift song

That's when

Word count: 6100

Warnings: angst, smut, hate sex, fingering, scratching, biting

Going to be a few minutes late to pick-up today, got caught up at work. 

The text from your ex-wife makes you chuckle humorlessly. Of course she did. 

“What’s wrong, Mama?” You look up from your phone at the four year old bundle of joy you and Agatha shared. 

You give him a smile. “Nothing, Nicky. Mommy’s just going to be a little late today.” He shrugs and goes back to playing with his toys. 

You can’t stop the twinge of bitterness growing in your chest as you give a thumbs to the message, not even giving her a dignified response. 

Was it stupid to think that anything would change? 

When you and Agatha had first gotten married, you saw forever with her. She made you happier than you had ever been, and there was nothing she wouldn’t do for you. She always knew how to make you laugh and feel loved, and she was such an amazing partner. 

Plus the sex was mind blowing. She made you feel things you didn’t even know it was possible to feel. The older woman knew exactly what you needed all the time and it was like your body had been made for her. 

A year into the marriage, you both decided you wanted to have a child. Agatha carried the baby, using a donation from a sperm center, and then Nicholas was born. 

The moment you first saw Agatha holding him in the hospital room, your heart exploded with all the love in the world. You had kissed Agatha’s sweaty lips and told her that you loved her and Nicky more than life itself and that nothing was ever going to change that. She had told you that everything she’d ever wanted was right here in this room.

And for the first few years, things were really good. 

Agatha went back to work after her maternity leave ended, so you stayed home with Nicky. Some days were harder than others, but Agatha always made sure to come home as soon as possible to give you a break. She would cook dinner for everyone and after Nicky went to bed, she would hold you on the couch and the two of you would just soak each other in. 

But then, after Nicky had turned three, something started to change. He was in his toddler phase, so being home with him all day started to take a toll on you. Agatha would come home and find you absolutely exhausted, but at that point, she was moving up higher on the corporate ladder, so she was tired too. It felt like a distance had grown between you, and you didn’t know what was happening. 

She started to stay late at work, the need to become a partner at her law firm becoming all-consuming.

You still remember the first time it happened, the first time you tucked in Nicky alone, his big, sad, brown eyes looking up at you and asking why Mommy didn’t want to come home and see him. 

Your heart had clenched and you had to blink back tears before telling him that she was just busy at work and would come in and kiss him goodnight when she was able to. 

That had been the first fight of many about it with your wife. 

You had told her that she wasn’t putting her family first. She had told you that you weren’t giving her enough credit for everything she was doing for you and Nicky. You had told her that all you wanted was for her to be here to tuck your child in. She had told you that you weren’t being fair or understanding about her job. 

Agatha had slept on the couch that night and was gone before you woke up the next morning. 

Deep down, you could tell it was going to be the beginning of the end if something didn’t change. 

So you tried to. You tried to control your anger whenever she was late, you tried to make the best of it for you and Nicky. Bedtimes became a special thing for the two of you, when you would read him a story and kiss his forehead and then slip out once he drifted off to sleep. 

He stopped asking where Agatha was entirely. 

Occasionally a tense comment would escape from you when she got home an hour or two later and it would turn into an argument. 

That arrangement went on for almost a year, but fights were getting more common between the two of you. She made you feel crazy for being upset, which in turn, only made you more upset. 

One time, you told her that she needed to make more of an effort or else and she had scoffed. You had seen red and gotten in her face and you were almost yelling when she shoved you against the wall and shut you up by furiously kissing you. Her fingers had slipped down into your pants and she fucked you for the first time in months. 

You didn’t know hate sex could be so hot. 

After that, things seemed to be getting better and you thought that maybe the two of you had just needed to blow off steam. Your sex life certainly seemed to be back on track. 

And then it was Nicky’s fourth birthday. 

Agatha and you had planned a big party and invited all the kids from his daycare to your house for pizza, cake, and a bounce house. It was the first time in a while that you actually felt like your marriage was on steady ground, like you were on the same page again. 

You remember smiling at her in the kitchen while hanging streamers and thinking that everything was going to be okay, because you loved her and more importantly, she loved you. 

But then she got a phone call and your heart dropped when she left the room to take it. 

When she came back in five minutes later, a pained expression on her face, you felt nauseous. Of course. 

“It’s just going to be a short thing,” she had promised, and you had begged her not to go. It was Nicky’s birthday, he needed both of his moms and it was her day off. You told her that if she left, you didn’t think you could ever forgive her. 

She left anyway, vowing to be back within an hour. 

You weren’t even upset this time. You were just numb. 

The party went by in a blur and it didn’t even feel like you were present in your body. The only thing you remember was finding Nicky sitting under the table while all his friends ran around the yard and crouching down to ask him what was wrong. 

And he had looked up at you, bottom lip quivering, and told you that the only thing he wanted for his birthday was for Mommy to not have to work so much so that the three of you could be together again. 

You had to turn your head and bite onto your finger so you wouldn’t cry in front of him, barely holding it together while you consoled him and promised that Agatha would be back soon. 

Except an hour passed, and she wasn’t back yet. 

The party ended another hour after that and she still wasn’t home. 

After you had rocked a sobbing Nicky to sleep that night, you had gone downstairs, poured yourself a generous glass of wine, and sat by the fireplace, waiting for Agatha. 

And finally, at a quarter until ten, the front door swung open. Your wife crept in, gently setting her keys down so as to not cause a disturbance, and then turned to go upstairs. 

“You said an hour,” you said in a shockingly calm voice, startling her, making her freeze. She launched into an excuse about getting a new case and it was a really big one and she couldn’t get away, but you had cut her off and told her that you didn’t want to hear it. Thus started your biggest fight yet. 

You called her selfish and told her that she was being a bad mother to her child, she told you that you couldn’t possibly understand what it was like for her because you didn’t have a job. You had argued that it shouldn’t matter, that she needed to sort out her priorities, and she said that you needed to stop nagging and accept that she was an integral part of her company now. 

“You’re also an integral part of this family,” you had snapped. “Nicky needs both his moms. He was crying today because you weren’t there, Agatha. He said all he wanted was for you to work less. You need to fix this.” 

She had just stared at you like she didn’t understand what you were saying. “I’m so close to having everything I want. Just give me a few more months.” That was like a stab in the heart.

“A few more months until what? Until you become a partner and have to work even more?” Tears were streaming down your face in the flicker of the fire. “Since when is this not everything you want? Since when are me and Nicky not enough?” Your voice had broken at the end but you didn’t care.

A hint of pain appeared on her face but she had hardened. “I have to do this. You can either stand by my decision or not.” 

To this day, you don’t even remember squeezing the wine glass so hard that it shattered, but the next thing you knew, there was a sharp pain in your palm. You had looked down to see shards embedded in your skin, but the blood made you eerily calm. The wound was almost a wake-up call, a physical manifestation of what she was doing to your family. 

You met her eyes again. “I’m not going to stand by it. I’m done, Agatha. I’m not going to put Nicky or myself through this torture anymore.” 

You could tell that she wasn’t expecting it; she opened her mouth to say something but you had breezed by her to go upstairs, feeling lighter than you had in awhile. 

You had called a lawyer the next day. A small part of you kept hoping that she would promise to do better and beg to work it out. You would’ve called it off in a heartbeat. 

But she didn’t. 

The divorce was simple, for the most part. You had both agreed that you wanted it to be painless for Nicky so you decided that you would be civil and put your problems aside for his sake. He deserved to have both his mothers in his life, and the two of you were going to make that happen as cordially as possible. 

Nicky took the news about as well as any four year old would, but you both assured him that you loved him very much and that this wasn’t a bad thing. 

Things were awkward at first, especially Sundays at six when she would pick him up from you and vice versa. You didn’t know how to talk to the woman you swore you’d die with anymore, but four months in now, it’s gotten easier.

There’s light conversation now, maybe even some casual joking. But it always ends the same way: a terse smile, a kiss on Nicky’s cheek, and then a strained wave before the door closes.

You miss her, though. The way she smelled when you cuddled with her, the way her lips felt tracing your skin, the way she would laugh at some stupid joke you made. 

You try to ignore the pang in your heart whenever Nicky talks about her. It’s honestly been good for their relationship, now she has to make time for him because she doesn’t have you to depend on. 

If only she could’ve done that four months ago. 

And yet, it seems like she’s still putting work first, if being late today is any indication.

“Mommy says we’re gonna go to the park tomorrow!” Nicky squeals, jolting you out of your acrimonious thoughts. 

You look back at your son. “Oh, yeah? That will be a lot of fun, won’t it?” 

He nods. “She’s gonna push me on the swings! I went so high last time I almost touched space. It was so cool.” 

“Wow, Nicky!” You exclaim, laughing despite yourself. “You better be careful though. I’d miss you too much if you went to space.” 

He frowns, deep in thought. “I’d miss you and Mommy. Maybe you could both come!” His face brightens like he just told you a million-dollar idea. 

“Whatever you want, baby,” you say softly, leaning over to tousle his hair, and the doorbell rings. Every time she does that instead of just walking in, it feels strange. This used to be the home you two shared. You give Nicky a tight smile. “Go get your stuff.” He runs up to his room and you go answer the door. Agatha looks as good as ever and you swallow hard. You knew the whole thing was going to be tough, but you didn’t think being so close to her but somehow so far away at the same time would be the worst part.

“Sorry I’m late,” your ex-wife says, sounding genuinely apologetic. You shrug, not wanting to start anything. 

“Don’t worry about it. Nicky’s just grabbing his stuff.” Except it’s taking longer than you thought, so the two of you are just stuck standing there, trying to avoid eye contact. Some pick-ups are better than others.

“Um, so how are things? How have you been?” Agatha asks. 

“Oh, yeah, good. You know, starting to look for a job just to have something to do. Maybe down at the community center,” you tell her. She nods interestedly. 

“That would be good, yeah,” she says. She’s clearly racking her brain for more small talk to make. 

“And you?” You ask before the silence gets too much to bear again. 

She looks at you like she’s trying to figure out what to say. Her work has become sort of a sore subject to talk about, especially now. “I actually just made partner,” she says finally. 

“Oh, wow, congratulations.” It sounds hollow even to your ears. “So, um–” You start a sentence before knowing where it’s going, but thankfully, Nicky runs downstairs at that very moment. 

“Hi Mommy!” He cries out, sprinting over and almost knocking the wind out of her when he barrels into her with a hug. She takes a step back when she absorbs the hit and you instinctively reach a hand out to grab onto her to keep her balanced. 

Her eyes meet yours, a jolt running through you when you realize this is the first time in four months that you’ve actually touched her. 

You yank your hand back before you get too carried away in your thoughts. 

“There’s my little prince,” Agatha says, ruffling his hair, still looking at you. “Did you have a good week?” 

He lifts his head to peer up at her and she finally breaks away from your stare. “It was fun! Jack let me have some of his chips.” You chuckle, remembering the day he had come home from daycare and happily told you that he had made a new friend. Agatha quizzically glances at you and you shake your head fondly. 

“Wow, well I can’t wait to hear all about it,” she says, matching his energy, and you feel your throat pinch. Despite everything, Agatha was a great mom when she was around. “Alright, are you ready to go? I’m thinking we can get pizza for dinner?” 

“Yes!” Nicky pumps his fist and lets go of her to throw his arms around you. “Bye, Mama. I’ll see you next week.” 

You lean down and kiss his cheek. “Have a great week, okay, baby?” He nods, eyes sparkling like they always do. 

You stand back up and Agatha gives you a smile before leading Nicky back to her car. Watching them drive away tugs at your stomach like it always does, and when you can no longer see them, you go back inside to the empty house.

Grief rolls over you in waves sometimes when you’re alone, and this is one of those times. It’s like you’re being pulled under the surface if you think too hard about what it used to be like before things started getting bad. 

This home used to be full of love and warmth and happiness. 

Now it’s a cold, vacant shell of memories. Even the silence feels too loud as you walk to the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of wine.

You drink a lot more when Nicky is with Agatha, and you find yourself wondering if she’s as affected as you are. 

Doubt it, you snort. She’s probably living her best life on her off-week, when she can come home at whatever time she wants and doesn’t have a nagging wife to answer to. 

You settle on the couch, glass in hand, and scroll through your phone. You down it quickly, and then another, and you decide to keep going. It doesn’t take long at all before you’re absolutely hammered. 

Fuck Agatha. Fuck her for choosing her job over you and Nicky. Fuck her for tearing your family apart. You would’ve been so happy with her. You wanted to spend the rest of your life with her. 

And now, what? You’re just supposed to start over? With some random woman? Supposed to go on first dates again, and talk about your favorite color, while the person who you loved the most and knew everything about you ripped out your heart?

Fuck Agatha. 

And then you get a genius idea. Maybe you should date. It could be meaningless, just a way for some company, maybe even sex. 

You’ve been waiting, hoping, for Agatha to change her mind. But she’s a partner at her firm now. 

She’s made her choice. 

Giggling out loud to yourself, you download Tinder and set up a profile. You scroll through your camera roll and are depressed when there’s mostly only pictures of you and Agatha, you and Nicky, or the three of you together. 

So you take some. Selfies have never been your thing, but in your drunken state, you have never been more confident. Some of the pictures you take are soft, some are a bit sexier, some are neutral. 

You upload them all, set the location for within five miles, and get to swiping. 

At first, it feels wrong, like you’re cheating on Agatha. When you get nervous, you still find yourself fiddling with the spot where her ring used to be, because it used to bring you comfort. The imprint she has on your soul will forever be there, you think. 

But it’s done. 

You steel your nerves and keep going, but no one is catching your eye. You frown, disgruntled, until finally you get to an attractive woman. 

Rio. 41. Loves nature and witchy things. 

You click through her pictures and are intrigued. You have a thing for brunettes, and her brown eyes are pretty pools of honey with a knowing look in them. There’s something intense about her, but you can’t ignore how hot she is. 

Before you can think twice, you swipe right and your stomach lurches when it says you have a match. 

Heart racing, you tap on the message icon, staring at the page. Do you make the first move or wait?

The alcohol decides for you. 

Hey. You hit send and immediately inwardly kick yourself. What a stupid thing to say. 

You turn off your phone and pinch the bridge of your nose until it buzzes in your lap. You look down and find that Rio replied. 

Nice pictures. 

You squint and click back to your profile, and attempt to really study them with a clear head. Turns out, all of them are blurry and it’s incredibly hard to make out any distinct features. You raise your phone again to take a new one and this time, you make sure that it’s clear before sending it straight to her with the message: Sorrrry i’m drung

It’s wrong, but you don’t care enough to correct it. 

Wow, doll. I’m glad you posted the blurry ones because you are too hot for anyone else to see. 

A blush spreads through your cheeks. It’s the first time you’ve been flirted with in ages. Feeling emboldened, you send a flirty text back. 

You keep talking for hours, until as you’re dozing off, she texts and asks you if you want to get dinner tomorrow night. 

The question is like a bucket of cold water being thrown on you and you start to panic. Thoughts of Agatha swirl in your mind, meeting her in a cafe, your first date, the first time she touched you, her proposing, her on your wedding day, her and Nicky in the hospital the day he was born –

– her working late, making Nicky cry, making you tuck in your child alone and explaining that of course Mommy still loves him and she’s just really busy, making you wait up to see her, breaking your heart a million times over again because she refused to change. 

You exhale slowly. 

I’d love to. You type back, and you turn off your phone before you can second guess yourself. 

You fall asleep on the couch, phone still in hand, a war being waged in your heart. 

The next morning, you’re awoken by your phone buzzing. You groan and hold it up in front of your face to find Agatha calling you. 

“Hello?” You say groggily, rubbing your head. 

You can tell she’s in the car by the loud sounds. Probably on her way to work. You roll your eyes, and then feel guilty. “Hey, Nicky realized that he left his pair of flip flops at yours and I was going to take him to the pool tomorrow. Can I come stop by this afternoon and pick them up?” 

You raise an eyebrow. “The pool on a Tuesday?” Who is this woman, and what has she done with your ex-wife? 

“I know, I know,” Agatha chuckles and it’s nice to hear her laugh. “I took off the afternoon because he’s been wanting to go swimming. Thought it would be a nice surprise.” 

You try to ignore the effort she’s putting in now versus when you were married. “Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll be here pretty much all day. Just text first.” You don’t mention the date with Rio, you don’t even wait for her to respond before hanging up. 

Trying to push Agatha and Rio out of your mind, you go take a shower to wash the smell of alcohol off you, and then run some errands. Grocery shopping is always easier when it’s your off-week but you still find yourself reaching for Froot Loops and Dinosaur nuggets. 

It’s about four in the afternoon when Agatha texts you that she’s on her way. You’re in denial about why you make sure your hair looks nice or you put on a bit of makeup, but it’s the first time you and Agatha have been alone since the divorce. 

Not that that has any correlation. 

And then the doorbell rings and your palms start to sweat. 

You swing the door open to find her leaned against the pillar outside, wearing a suit that has your chest squeezing. It’s your favorite, the maroon one that hugs her curves perfectly and the one she’s fucked you in more times than you can count. 

Agatha doesn’t wait for you to invite her, just walks in and up the stairs to Nicky’s room. You chase after her. 

“I’m surprised you’re not working right now,” you say, and she gives you a warning look. 

“I’m a partner now,” she answers, rummaging through Nicky’s closet to find his shoes. “I can delegate the busy work to others in the office.” 

You hum and reach around her to pull his flip-flops off a shelf and hold them up to her. You organized his room, you know where everything is. 

“Thanks,” she says, taking them, standing up, and awkwardly waiting for you to move first. 

You glance around the room to see if there’s anything else he would need for swimming. “Does he have his swim suit?” 

“I have a few pairs for him,” she replies, watching you carefully. You tuck your hair behind your ear, another nervous habit. 

“Well, guess he should be all set then.” You clap your hands together and she smiles sadly and walks out of the room. She pauses in the hallway next to your room, the room you used to share, and your breath catches, but she keeps moving toward the stairwell. 

“Do you, uh,” Agatha starts, turning around when she gets to the kitchen. You freeze. “Maybe want to have a drink or dinner or do something tonight? Nicky has a playdate with one of his friends, so it’ll just be me. Figured we could both use the company.” 

“I actually have plans,” you say carefully. Part of you wants to cancel with Rio, but you know you shouldn’t. This could be good for you. 

Agatha raises an eyebrow. “Working late?” She jokes, although it doesn’t land how she wants it and you both know it. 

“I have a date.” 

And it’s like all the air has been sucked out of the room. You see the exact moment Agatha’s face changes, becomes darker almost. 

“What?” She growls. “With who?” 

You chew on your lip until she asks again. “I went on Tinder last night.” You don’t offer more than that, but her lip curls and you can tell that she’s angry. 

“So now you’re just whoring yourself out online?” She spits and your blood boils. “You were going to, what, bring some slut to the house my child sleeps in?”

“He’s not here this week, Agatha,” you remind her and she scoffs like it doesn’t matter. “You haven’t been on a date yet?” Now that’s a surprise to you. 

She rolls her eyes. “Of course not. I’m too-“ 

“Busy? Yeah, tell me about it,” you cut her off, poison dripping in your tone and she fixes you with a glare, throwing her hands up in the air. 

“Don’t even fucking go there,” she warns. “That’s what this is always about with you. I’m so fucking sorry that I was ambitious and wanted more.” The sarcasm hits you like a brick and you grit your teeth. 

“It was about more than that and you know it,” you snarl. “You constantly neglected Nicky and I, you put everything else above us. You weren’t there for your own son’s birthday party, so fucking sue me for going on a date. We’re divorced, I can do whatever the fuck I want. At least she won’t completely ignore me.” 

It’s the wrong thing to say and you know it the second it leaves your mouth. She explodes. “Ignore you? I didn’t ignore you, do you even hear yourself? I tried to be there for you, I really did, and now you’re just throwing that away. I was doing the best I could, I was under so much stress with my job and then a toddler, I was fucking drowning.” 

“Why didn’t you talk to me then?” You cry out, digging your nails into your palms. “You could’ve told me how you were struggling instead of just fighting with me! And I’m not throwing it away now, Aggie, you were the one who did that when you gave me that ultimatum.” You can hear her breath suck in when you call her that nickname and tears prick your eyes. How did you two get here? 

“I didn’t think you would just give up,” she says, voice strangled, and a weight comes crashing down on you. 

“What?” You whisper, and for the first time, you can see that the older woman is affected too, hurting. 

She wipes her eyes and sniffs. “I didn’t think you would just walk away like you did. I thought you’d say that we could work it out, like you always do.” 

And then you get it. That night, she wanted you to cave again. She thought you would give in and let her get away with it. Like you always did. “Stop,” you say coldly and she looks at you with surprise. “You don’t get to manipulate me anymore and turn this on me. I tried so hard to fix this and to be okay with it, but you were never going to change. Except now you have, for Nicky. So what, was I just not worth it?” 

“Do you know how many times I wish I had changed? I should have listened, I’m sorry,” she says, and you wish you could believe it. 

“It doesn’t matter now. I’m going on this date and you should go,” you snap. You start to walk out of the kitchen and to the front door when her hand shoots out and grabs your wrist. You move your arm, trying to get free, but she yanks you back against her, your chest colliding with hers. 

You lose the ability to breathe and you try to avoid looking at her lips as she walks you backwards until you hit the wall. 

“Tell me you don’t still think about me,” she hisses into your ear. “Tell me you don’t miss the way I made you moan louder than anyone else ever has. Tell me you don’t miss the way I fuck you.” 

Your nose twitches in anger and you lean in closer to her. “I don’t,” you glower, even though it’s not the truth at all. She knows it too. Her grip on your arm tightens. 

“Really?” Her voice is slippery smooth now, dropping an octave to the tone that always made your stomach heat up. “When you’re alone in this big house, you don’t think about my fingers or my mouth or my cock, fucking you the way only I can?” 

You shiver, body betraying you. But you hold your ground and deny it again. 

Her other hand comes up and pulls your hair, forcing your head to the side, and she puts her face next to your ear. “You forget, baby, I know what it looks like when you lie.” Her tongue licks your earlobe and you bite back a moan. 

It’s been so long, too long, since you’ve been touched. You’d have this reaction if it was anyone else, you tell yourself. 

“Do you really think that Tinder slut can fuck you right? Let me tell you a secret,” she says dangerously, one hand sliding down your body and stopping at the waistband of your shorts, giving you ample time to stop her. You don’t and she smirks, knowing she’s won. “She can’t. Only I can.” 

Her fingers dip inside and cup you over your underwear and your mind goes blank. 

“You’re telling me that you don’t think about me while you’re this wet? You’re an even worse liar than I remember,” she taunts, but you don’t care. 

You need this too bad.

“Shut up and fuck me,” you bark, moving your hips over her hand, trying to get any kind of stimulation you can. She doesn’t give you what you want. 

“Tell me the truth,” she coos. 

You’re so angry right now, but you also haven’t felt this alive in four months, so you drag her in for a bruising kiss. Her teeth clash against yours and she practically shoves her tongue down your throat and roughly bites your lower lip. You moan into her mouth and rip your arm free out of her grasp so you can scramble to get her suit jacket off. 

Figures this would be happening while she’s wearing that. 

You claw at her bare shoulders, making sure to rake your nails across her skin and she hisses with pain, so you do it again. She trails her lips down and sinks her teeth in hard to the juncture between your shoulder and neck. You yelp but it quickly turns into a moan when she moves your underwear to the side and shoves two fingers inside your waiting cunt. 

Agatha’s head drops back as your eyes roll in your head. “Fuck, baby girl, I’ve missed this,” she sighs and you pull her to you urgently for another kiss, needing to make up for lost time. 

It’s like nothing changed at all, and yet everything has, when she sets the same familiar fast pace from all those times before. 

“She’s not gonna know what you need,” Agatha pants against your lips, thumb roughly swiping at your clit, pulling frantic gasps from your mouth. “Only I do. God, I’ve missed your cunt. Say it.” 

“I’ve missed your fingers,” you finally give in and groan. 

She thrusts them particularly hard and it has you clenching around her, biting onto her shoulder. 

“And?” She urges. 

“I’ve missed you,” you whimper, and she rewards you with a twist of her digits that has you groaning. 

“Good girl,” she moans. “I’ve missed you, too.” Her admission sounds choked, and it makes the fire only burn brighter in your stomach. 

And you want more. “Tell me you think about me,” you beg, and she raises an eyebrow, stopping her thrusts to fit a third finger into you. She curls them and you whine. 

“I fucking think about you all the time,” she says like it pains her. “I miss you so fucking much.” Your breaths are intermingling with how close you are and you lift a leg up so she can get in deeper. 

“I think about you too and I fucking hate it,” you snarl witheringly and she just chuckles and scissors her fingers inside you, effectively cutting your words off for a second. “You’re always on my mind and I can’t get you out of it.” 

You’re getting closer and you know she can tell by the way your walls are fluttering around her. 

“Tell me you still want me,” she orders and you keen, hands grappling around her to pull her even closer if it’s possible. You’ve missed her so much, the way she feels against you. Everything feels right again. 

You’re clenching, getting tenser, and you know you’re about to cum. But she slows her movements and you think you could cry. 

“Tell me the truth and I’ll keep going,” she says, voice getting softer. Tears form in your eyes and you know that you’re about to change anything. 

You press your lips to hers and then pull back. “I still want you, Aggie, I still fucking love you so much.” 

And her eyes get a feral look in them that you’ve rarely seen, even when she gets most possessive. 

“Say it again,” she demands, voice low, as she starts fucking you roughly again. 

“I love you, I still love you,” you practically sob and she kisses you harder than she ever has. 

“I still love you too,” she says into your open mouth, and you cum all over her fingers. 

She gently thrusts into you while you come down from one of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever had. 

“I should’ve made more time for you and Nicky,” Agatha says softly. “I’m sorry, baby. I went too far and I wasn’t listening but I promise, I want to do better this time. Please, just give me another chance.” 

This is the first time you’ve ever believed her. You’ve already seen what she’s doing when she has Nicky. And to be honest, you don’t think you’ll ever stop loving her. 

“Are you sure?” You ask, just needing to be certain. “We have a lot to work on.” 

She nods. “I know, baby girl. But I love you and these last four months have been hell. I know it won’t be easy but I want to make this work. For you and for Nicky.” 

Overwhelmed, you pull her in for a long hug, finally admitting to yourself how much you need her. It felt like there was a piece missing from you, and you just got it back. 

“Okay,” you say and you feel her smile against your cheek. “Let’s do it.” 

She kisses you so sweetly it reminds you of your wedding day and then breaks it to laugh happily. 

“So what now?” You ask. 

She smirks. “I think you have a date to cancel.” 

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Toto Wolff with wife reader. Doing a hot lap together with him driving. (You choose which circuit) Thanks!! :)(

Hold on tight

Word count: 1.1k

Pairing: Toto Wolff x wife!reader

Summary: Toto and Y/N Wolff’s Nürburgring hot lap showcases Y/N’s hilarious reactions to Toto’s driving, with Jack adding his adorable excitement.

Because I thought it was very similar to the other Fics I’ve written I made this one in to part four of the social media Toto Wolff x wife!reader fic series

Part one: Unscripted Moments

Part two: A guide to modern slang

Part three: Getting It Right (and Wrong)

________________________________________________________

The sun was shining brightly over the Nürburgring, casting a golden glow on the iconic circuit as you and Toto prepared for yet another video, the third in a series that had quickly become a fan-favorite. The sleek Mercedes-AMG GT gleamed behind you, the anticipation of what was to come buzzing in the air.

Standing side by side, you and Toto exchanged playful glances as the camera crew set up. This wasn’t your first rodeo; the first video had been a fun “This or That” challenge, where you’d both revealed surprising things about each other. The second video had tested your knowledge of Gen Z slang, which had led to a lot of laughs—and a few hilarious misinterpretations on Toto’s part. But this time, things were about to get a lot more intense.

As the camera began to roll, you and Toto turned to face it, ready to introduce what was sure to be a wild ride.

“Hello, everyone!” Toto greeted the camera with his signature grin. “Welcome back! For those of you who’ve been following along, you’ll know that we’ve done a couple of fun videos already—first, a ‘This or That’ challenge, and then we tried to guess some Gen Z slang. Both were… let’s say, very educational,” he added with a wink in your direction.

You chuckled, nodding in agreement. “Educational is one word for it. I think we both learned that Toto is definitely not up-to-date with the latest slang.”

Toto laughed, shaking his head. “True. But today, we’re doing something completely different. And a bit more in my territory. We’re here at the Nürburgring, and we’re about to do a hot lap in this beautiful Mercedes-AMG GT.”

You turned to the camera with a slightly nervous smile. “Which means I’m going to be the terrified passenger, holding on for dear life, while this guy here,” you nudged Toto, “drives like a madman.”

Toto put his arm around your waist, grinning widely. “She says madman, I say skilled professional.”

“Tomato, tomato,” you replied with a smirk, earning a chuckle from the camera crew.

One of the cameramen stepped forward, asking, “So, Y/N, on a scale of 1 to 10, how nervous are you?”

You didn’t hesitate. “Eleven. Definitely an eleven.”

The cameraman then turned to Toto. “And how excited are you?”

Toto grinned, his eyes lighting up with excitement. “A solid twelve. I’ve been looking forward to this.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at the camera. “Well, there you have it. I’m nervous, he’s excited, and we’re about to take off. Wish me luck!”

Toto opened the passenger door for you with a teasing flourish. “Your chariot awaits, madame.”

You took a deep breath and slid into the seat, glancing up at him with a mix of affection and exasperation. “Just remember, we’re doing this for the fans. And don’t forget—I’m holding on to whatever I can if you scare me.”

Toto chuckled as he settled into the driver’s seat. “I’ll try to keep it interesting. Ready?”

“Not really,” you admitted, your voice a mix of nerves and excitement as you buckled your seatbelt.

With that, Toto started the engine, and the car roared to life. He shot you a quick grin before hitting the accelerator, and the Nürburgring immediately became a blur around you. The speed and intensity of the hot lap were unlike anything you’d ever experienced before, and as the car whipped through sharp turns, you instinctively reached out, gripping Toto’s arm.

“Toto, langsam!” you yelled, slipping into German as the adrenaline took over. “Du bist wahnsinnig! Scheiße!” ("Toto, slow down! You're insane! Shit!")

Toto only laughed, clearly enjoying himself. “Liebling, bitte,” ("Darling, please,") he replied with mock seriousness, the grin on his face widening as he expertly navigated another sharp corner. “This is just getting started!”

“Fucking hell,” you muttered in English, switching between the languages as the car sped through another tight curve. “I’m holding on to you whether you like it or not!”

As the car took a particularly steep turn, you instinctively grabbed onto Toto’s leg, holding on for dear life. “Verdammt, Toto! Du bist verrückt!” ("Damn it, Toto! You're crazy!")

Toto glanced down at your hand on his leg and shot you a teasing look. “Oh, holding onto my leg now? Didn’t know you were so eager, Schatz.”

Despite the fear coursing through you, you managed a glare. “Not the time for jokes!”

He just laughed again, thoroughly enjoying your flustered state. “You know, there are other times when I wouldn’t mind you holding onto me like that…”

“Toto!” you exclaimed, your face flushing as the car finally began to slow down, signaling the end of the lap.

Toto brought the car to a smooth stop in the pit lane, turning to you with a wide grin. “Well, that was fun, wasn’t it?”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. “Fun is relative. I think I just aged ten years.”

As you both got out of the car, the camera crew was still filming, capturing every moment. One of the cameramen walked over, grinning. “That was amazing! The fans are going to love this. You two are hilarious together.”

Toto chuckled, clearly pleased. “She’s the best co-driver I could ask for.”

Before you could respond, you heard the sound of little footsteps running towards you. Jack came charging over, his face lighting up when he saw you.

“Mommy!” Jack called out, reaching up for you as he ran to your side.

You bent down, scooping him up into your arms, feeling a wave of relief and joy as you held him close. “Hey, sweetheart,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to his hair. “Did you have fun watching?”

Jack nodded eagerly, his eyes wide with wonder. “You were so fast, Mommy! Like a race car driver!”

Toto walked over, wrapping an arm around your waist and giving Jack a playful ruffle of his hair. “Your mom was very brave, wasn’t she, Jack?”

Jack nodded again, looking up at you with wide, admiring eyes. “Yeah! But why were you holding onto Daddy’s leg?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, your face flushing as you glanced at Toto, who was grinning mischievously. “Well, Daddy was driving really fast, and it was a little scary.”

Toto leaned in close, his voice low and teasing as he whispered just for you to hear, “I didn’t mind it at all, you holding onto me like that… Maybe we could try that again later?”

You blushed, swatting at him playfully. “Behave yourself.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Can’t promise that, Schatz.”

Jack giggled, oblivious to the teasing between his parents. “Can I come with you next time, Daddy?”

Toto smiled, his hand gently squeezing Jack’s. “Maybe when you’re a little older, buddy. For now, let’s keep your mom safe from my driving.”

You laughed, leaning into Toto as you held Jack close. “Yes, let’s do that.”